Ceres was the hub of the Asteroid Belt. Nearly 600 miles across, it was the largest body in the ring of planetary debris that swirled and turned in a large swath between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter. It was the place where professional miners first arrived from Earth before their companies farmed them out to the mining centers on various asteroids. Independent asteroid miners came to Ceres once in a while for supplies, and corporations picked up equipment imported daily from Mars. Ceres, located several days’ travel from the nearest sizable population center, was a buzz of activity.
The Star Ranger approached the large asteroid after a fast but uneventful journey of six days.
“Quite a cloud of starships!” remarked Joe as Yellow City came into view. A swarm of at least forty ships of an amazing variety of sizes, shapes, and vintages was moving over the port. Some were hovering, others were heading in toward the landing field and a few others were departing. None moved very fast since the space was as crowded as bees around a hive.
Yellow City was a well planned settlement, in spite of having been developed jointly by several different mining companies. Although the competition was fierce for the rich minerals of the Belt, cooperation was necessary to build the city, especially in the earliest years of settlement. The result was beneficial to all, as Yellow City could easily supply the needs of miners of all kinds as well as serve the traffic to the Outer Planets that almost always came by way of Ceres. Advancements in propulsion systems were making it possible for some of the newer ships to bypass Yellow City on their way to Jupiter and beyond, but Ceres was still a major stopping point.
Zip spoke quietly to Mark. “Mark, please let them know that we would like to land.”
Mark opened the microphone. “Starman Mark Seaton on the starship Star Ranger requesting permission to land.”
The response was immediate. “Yes sir, Starman! Ceres is proud to welcome you!” The operator went on to give directions for landing.
“Why is he so deferential?” queried Mark after communications had been completed.
“We’re famous!” responded Zip. “We’ve been aboard ship since the end of the attempted takeover on Mars and haven’t kept up with the news, but we’ve become household names. Oritz Konig told me that just as we were leaving the Base. We’re the men who liberated Mars! The people in the Belt are especially pleased since the pirates had planned to blockade them once they had a strong hold on Eagle City. Why, you couldn’t find another place in the Solar System that’d be happier to see us than Yellow City!”
The Star Ranger was given priority docking. Once its engines were shut down, a large crew ran to secure it and welcome the Starmen. As Zip, Mark, and Joe descended the ladder, eager hands reached up to help them down the last two or three rungs. Through the bubble helmets on their suits, the mechanics and service personnel were all smiles.
When Zip inquired about the offices of Starlight Enterprise, the Starmen were ushered to a small moonbus and driven directly to the site. The complex was a small two-story building set in a row of offices, workshops, and garages not far from the landing field. All buildings on Ceres were made of the gray rock native to the asteroid. Building material was cheap and solid, but plain.
Although the city itself was covered with an atmosphere dome, the SE office was located close to the landing field, not within the city proper. Entrance was through an airlock. Once through the airlock, the Starmen removed their helmets and placed them on the rack.
“Whoopee! This is fun, being famous!” exclaimed Joe, his eyes alight. “I hope it lasts until we get back to the Earth-Moon system! I’d like to enjoy it!”
“I hope so, too, for all our sakes. Your exploits have given all the Starmen a good name!” Joe whirled.
“Kathryn Mullaney!” cried Joe. Mark and Zip smiled widely.
“What are you doing on Ceres, Kathryn?” asked Zip. “I haven’t seen you since your last visit to the Academy at the beginning of our senior year.” Kathryn Mullaney had graduated from Starlight Academy a year before Zip and his partners; her first assignment as a Starman was in the Outer Planets. She was twenty years old, wore her strawberry blond hair short, and had a few freckles spangled across her nose below blue eyes which had a touch of green in them.
“Finished my assignment on Ganymede and I’m coming back home for a leave which I hope will be very long! I spent eight months in the smallest population center in the Solar System, and can’t wait to get back where there are crowds of people! I’m just staying here long enough for a quick once-over on my ship, refueling, and then I’m Earth-bound. In fact, I’m on my way out now.”
There was a little more pleasant conversation, then Kathryn said, “I’ve got to be going, and Sim is waiting for you upstairs. Good luck!”
Zip, Mark, and Joe ascended the stairs and came to the landing. The stairway and corridors were very plain. There was no unnecessary ornamentation of any kind, and lighting was minimal. They found a door with a sign on it that read STARLIGHT ENTERPRISE in bold letters. A second line provided the name of SE’s resident operations officer on Ceres: “Sim Sala Bim.” Joe knocked.
“Come in,” said a voice. The Starmen entered the door. The occupant, a tall, slender man of Indian extraction with black thinning hair, was already coming toward the door to welcome his visitors. “Welcome! So glad to see you! Welcome, please come in!” He ushered them into the room.
“Nice to see you again, Sim,” greeted Zip. They sat down in a circle of chairs, Sim sitting near a table on which were placed all the makings necessary for tea. There were already two cups set out, which had been used recently. Sim took one for himself and set the other aside. “This was Kathryn’s,” he said as he produced three new cups for his visitors. “You probably passed her on your way in.”
The conversation continued as Sim poured the tea from a very large brown earthenware teapot. Before long, Zip brought up the subject of their visit.
“I wish we had more time to visit, Sim, but our assignment is extremely urgent. We must find George St. George as fast as possible, and Oritz has told us that only a miner named Montezuma Vly can tell us where he is. We’re on our way to Montezuma’s Castle.”
“Ah, yes,” said Sim Sala Bim, “Sabbath George. He is well known here, but we haven’t seen him in almost a year, I think. Almost a year.”
“Sabbath George?” asked Mark.
“George St. George is a devout man—genial, generous, liked and respected by everyone. Honest to a fault. He’s called Sabbath George because of his beliefs. The nickname is intended to kid him a little bit, but is really meant as a term of respect and affection. But to find him in short order, you will indeed have to go through Montezuma Vly. Montezuma’s Castle is not hard to find, but getting in will be difficult.”
“We are familiar with Mr. Vly’s convictions and we wouldn’t bother him if there were any other way to find St. George. Given the time constraints, we have no choice.”
Sim nodded. “Montezuma’s Castle is easily recognizable by its unusual shape. It is a true crescent, a sliver of stone with Vly’s operation in its very center.” Sim went on to provide its coordinates and other information the Starmen would need to find it.
Zip continued. “On this assignment secrecy is of the utmost importance. It is vital that no one knows who we are or what we’re doing. We obviously can’t take the Star Ranger, as the news media have made that ship easily recognizable. We learned that when we landed on Ceres. I think we’re going to need to use another ship.”
With Sim, the Starmen made plans to leave the Star Ranger on Ceres while the Starmen, dressed in ordinary clothes, quietly departed for Montezuma’s Castle in another ship.
“I’ll let you have the Vigilant Warrior,” said Sim. “It’s a local ship, designed for operating in the Asteroid Belt. We own it, but it hasn’t been used in a while and probably no one will recognize it as an SE ship. It’s the best I can do on short notice, but it should serve you well.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine, if you say so,” answered Zip.
Sim Sala Bim got right to work, and the Vigilant Warrior was ready for takeoff within two hours. As soon as it was ready, the Starmen lifted off from Yellow City. As Joe piloted the ship into the heart of the Belt, Zip looked back for a brief, wistful moment and saw the unusual dark red color of the Star Ranger, his ship, on the field of Yellow City.
“That’s it,” said Mark, as the navigation equipment locked onto the asteroid that was the home of the elusive Montezuma Vly.
“Hmmm. No wonder it’s so hard to find,” observed Zip, looking over Mark’s shoulder for a moment. “Not far from major travelways but so unobtrusive you’d never notice it.”
“It just hovers almost in the shadow of that large, worthless chunk here. Should be able to see it out the window before too long.”
Joe was busy threading the Vigilant Warrior through the asteroids for the next few minutes. He kept the ship at a moderate pace and passed easily around the slowly turning asteroids. They were all moving at about the same speed and maneuvering was not difficult.
“Should be coming up on it about now,” offered Mark.
“There it is,” said Zip almost immediately. The Vigilant Warrior had eased its way around an oblong worldlet—the “large, worthless chunk” that Mark had just mentioned—bringing into view a crescent-shaped, stony asteroid about a mile long. It looked almost like a fat banana with the ends tapering into sharp points.
“Montezuma’s Castle,” breathed Zip. “Kind of looks like a moon for that large asteroid.”
“I think it is,” answered Mark. “It rotates around the larger chunk and the two make almost a helix pattern in their journey through the Belt. They were probably a single asteroid at one time. One powerful impact must have split them, but the pieces haven’t drifted far apart.”
“Well, let’s get down there. There’s no mistaking the shape of the ‘Castle.’ Whatever odd shapes you can find in the Belt, that’s got to be unique.” The Starman brought the Vigilant Warrior slowly into the proximity of Montezuma Vly’s refuge. “See if you can raise him, Mark.”
Mark Seaton flipped on the communicator.
“Starman Mark Seaton on the starship Vigilant Warrior calling Montezuma Vly on the Castle, requesting permission to land.” His voice was smooth, intimate, and confident. There was no response. A minute later, Mark repeated the message. The metallic voice of an automatic response system came on.
“This asteroid is private property and visitors are not welcome.”
“We understand that, sir,” Mark replied, “and we would not request permission to land if it were not a matter of urgent business of personal concern.” A human voice came on.
“Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before! I don’t want visitors! If I wanted a social calendar, I’d go live in a big population center like Ganymede. Keep going! Next services are 3,000 miles away.”
“Mr. Vly, this is Starman David Foster, Commander of the Starlight Enterprise ship Vigilant Warrior,” Zip broke in. “We understand and respect your reluctance to receive visitors and will stay no longer than necessary. We are calling on you because your friend George St. George has information we need which is vital to the safety of all the settlements on Mars and even the Earth-Moon system. We also believe it possible that he is in danger from violent men.”
“Well, that’s a new one. George in danger? What about it?”
“May we land, Mr. Vly? I don’t want to take the slightest risk that our conversation can be overheard. We won’t stay any longer than necessary.”
“You’ve found me. May as well come in and state your business.” The communicator was shut off from Vly’s end.
Zip came up on the Castle. It didn’t take long to find the landing site. There were two spacecraft in position in about the middle of the asteroid. One was a small ship suitable for local jaunts, and the other was a normal-sized craft capable of interplanetary travel. The name Sentinel was painted on the side of the larger craft. Both were very old and in places a little battered, but were clearly cared about and well kept up.
The Vigilant Warrior touched down about fifty yards from the closest of Vly’s craft. Joe shut off the engines and pressed the security button. A slight shudder ran through the ship as bolts shot from the fins, securing the ship to the surface. The Starmen disembarked and descended the ladder.
“Over there,” pointed Joe. The entrance to the airlock was discernible across the tiny landing area. The Starmen began walking toward it. The starfield swept away to right and left, with a couple of nearby asteroids visible to the eye. A great horn of stone rose up before them, sweeping to a point above. Behind them a similar horn curved up in the opposite direction.
The ground was uneven, with contours sharply defined. Jagged, broken rock comprised most of the terrain, with a few smooth ripples which rose about twenty or thirty feet from the plain. Shadows were utterly dark in the vacuum of space. The Starmen wore asteroid shoes, designed for walking in low gravity conditions. Their soles had an automatic “smart grip” function that gripped the ground when weight was placed on them, but released when the walker took another step. Without the asteroid shoes, the minimal gravity of “Montezuma’s Castle” would have made walking a difficult, even dangerous, task.
The Starmen saw that the airlock was set into the side of a hill. The hill had been artificially cut away in front of the door. As Zip, Mark, and Joe approached the airlock, the outer door opened. When they had passed through, it shut behind them. Joe kept watch on the instruments as air filled the compartment. When the atmosphere had become normal, he removed his helmet, and Zip and Mark followed suit. They opened the second door and passed through. A dimly-lit stairway led down in front of them. About twenty-five steps brought them to the beginning of a short passageway. At the end was another door. It was solid.
Zip approached the door and paused. He turned his head to the other two, lifted his eyebrows and shrugged. Mark and Joe nodded. Zip knocked. The door was opened almost immediately.
A good-looking, clean-shaven man with dark brown wavy hair looked them over once quickly, then stepped aside. “Come in,” he said, waving a hand while the other held the door. “I’m Montezuma Vly.” He had powerful hands, obviously used to hard labor. His nails had grit under them. Strong as the hands were, they were also clearly the hands of an artist, capable of fine work. He shook hands with the Starmen as they entered.
“Wow!” said Joe, the last to enter. Vly shut the door. The three Starmen gazed about them. They were standing in a small room packed with machinery—old-fashioned machinery used for rock cutting, polishing stones, and mounting specimens. The heady smell of machine oil hung in the air, not heavy like that of an aircraft hangar but attractive and energizing, almost like a perfume.
The machinery was made of cast iron, with wheels and gears, rods and chains visible inside the cases. Mark noted that each machine looked lovingly maintained. The newest machine must have been at least fifty years old, but all were in top quality condition.
“They’re made to be used,” explained Vly, discerning their thoughts. “You can’t get better machines than these today. The new stuff doesn’t last and can’t be depended on.”
Mark, the engine master of the trio, immediately thought of the precision instruments produced by Starlight Enterprise. He opened his mouth, but said nothing. He knew that SE made quality machinery, but little of it was iron. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself by talking about something of which he knew little. Instead he smiled and decided to take a closer look.
He leaned over the closest apparatus. His mild skepticism quickly turned to awe. “My goodness, Mr. Vly! This is incredible! These machines are beautiful!” Vly didn’t smile, but his face softened a little.
Joe and Zip were looking around the room. On two walls were hung various hand tools. Several shelves held cans of oil and paint, boxes of supplies, and dozens of samples of minerals and crystals. The other two walls were lined with books, half of them behind glass.
Zip turned his head to the side to read the titles of some of the books. He saw The Complete Works of William Shakespeare; Kon Tiki by Thor Heyerdahl; Homer’s Odyssey; and several advanced textbooks on mineralogy, metallurgy, engineering, and electronics. Zip’s eyebrows lifted. He was impressed.
Mark was looking at the books on the other wall. Basic Watercolor, he read. The Stories of Edgar Allen Poe was next to The Life of Johann Sebastian Bach. Mark whistled. “Not what I expected, Mr. Vly,” he said. “Not at all what I expected.”
“Uh huh,” murmured Montezuma Vly. “Let’s get down to business. Follow me.” He squeezed past Zip in the crowded little workplace, passed through a narrow door on the other side of the room, and through a passageway. The Starmen followed.
A small furry shape leaped through the air in front of Joe. “Ack!” exclaimed the lanky Starman, stumbling backward, knocking over a couple of small boxes as his arms flailed. Nuts and bolts scattered on the floor. Joe backed into another box and sat down hard on it.
“What—?” exclaimed Vly, turning.
“What was that?” cried Joe. “Something jumped across the corridor. I think it went into this recess here.” He pointed to an opening between a few stacked boxes.
“One of my koalangs,” answered Montezuma. “I’ve got four of them here. There are a few more in the living quarters. Good company. They can startle you, though, and they can make an awful mess. More than once I’ve threatened to make stew out of ’em and eat ’em for dinner.” The Starmen looked at one another, wondering if he was joking. His next action showed that he was.
“Come on, Howard,” said Montezuma gently, bending over and calling into the dark place where the koalang had hidden. “They won’t hurt you. I know you’re not used to company, but no one’s gonna hurt you. Come on out. That’s it, come on.” He reached in gently and drew a small creature out of the darkness. It had a small furry face with large, frightened eyes, and snuggled up against the miner. Its fur was caramel and white. He folded it into his chest and covered it gently with both hands. He crooned to it lovingly for a moment or two, then said, “That’s right. You’re okay. Go play.” Then he added with mock fierceness, “Just stay out of the paint!” He set it down and turned back to the door at the end of the corridor.
“In here,” he directed, leading the way into the room beyond.
4: Sabbath George
THE ROOM was smaller than the Starmen had anticipated. Its small size was accentuated by being packed to the ceiling with a variety of items. Hand tools identical to those used by rock hounds for centuries lay on tables and on shelves. Stacks of paper, most of which showed signs of being bound by hand, covered much of the remaining space. On one shelf was a large, clear sphere on an ornately shaped stand. The eyes of all three Starmen were drawn to it.
“Have a seat,” offered their host.
There were three chairs. Montezuma sat in one placed before a desk and swiveled to face his visitors. Zip and Joe took the other chairs and Mark sat on a short stack of crates filled with rock samples. A thick book rested on a table in the center of the room. Mark glanced at the title, turning his head slightly to do so. It was The Flying Carpet, by Richard Halliburton. There was a bookmark about halfway through the book.
The asteroid miner leaned forward. “What about George?” he asked.
Zip filled him in. Montezuma Vly paid close attention. His eyes never wavered from Zip’s face as he spoke. When Zip was finished, Vly nodded.
“Mm hmm,” he murmured. “This could be bad for George. I’ll tell you where to find him. I expect that you’ll be able to keep him out of the clutches of the space vultures. You’ve got an enemy to be reckoned with in this Zimbardo psychopath, but I believe you can handle him.”
“You seem to know a lot about our recent exploits, Mr. Vly,” said Joe, conversationally.
“I’m not the complete recluse people think, Mr. Taylor. People have a lot of wrong ideas about me. I don’t want to be listed in the Register of Peoples, and I don’t want people butting into my business or telling me how to live, but I keep up with the news. If I hadn’t recognized you, you wouldn’t have been allowed to land on my asteroid. You’re not wearing Starman’s red, you know.”
“We’re grateful to you, Mr. Vly,” nodded Zip.
“May I ask—” began Mark, then hesitated.
“Yes, you may ask. Go on.”
Mark turned his head toward the sphere. “The sphere...”
“Oh yes. It’s pure crystal, all right.”
The Starmen gasped. “Pure...crystal...?” stammered Mark. “Why, there can’t be a larger one in the Solar System! It’s priceless!”
“Next largest was in the Smithsonian Institution, a little more than twelve inches in diameter. This one’s sixteen and three-quarters inches. Found it myself on Adamant—that’s the parent asteroid from which this sliver I live on was busted off a few millennia ago.” Mark knew he was referring to what he had called a “worthless chunk” before they landed.
Vly went on. “Shaped it myself in those old machines you saw coming in here. Had to redesign some of ’em to fit a crystal this size, but we did it.”
“It looks flawless!” breathed Joe.
“Looks it, but isn’t. Its flaws are its greatest treasure. Watch this; you haven’t seen anything yet.” Vly picked up a small cutting tool with a laser guide at the end. He turned off the lights and then pointed the laser at the crystal sphere. The beam struck the surface and then scattered throughout the interior of the globe, igniting sparks of spectacular glory. Mark could feel tears come into his eyes from the unearthly beauty the light created. Many dozens of flakes, invisible to the naked eye, were revealed when the laser beam pierced the near-perfect sphere. They exploded in glorious colors—gold, orange, deep red, flaming yellow, silver; even a few brilliant green, deep blue, and violet sparks traced across the inner world.
The Starmen were speechless. They couldn’t take their eyes off the resplendent glory of the sphere under the laser light. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” asked Vly, gently. There was no need to answer.
“Where do the colors come from?” asked Mark. “Laser light has only one wavelength, so it can’t be refracting in there.”
“The crystal’s impurities are almost invisible to the unaided eye,” answered Vly, “but the laser hits the impurities and causes secondary emissions of light of all sorts of color—the more impurities, the more colors. It lights up better than a fire opal.”
As he moved the laser beam slowly around the globe, the interior lights changed—first one, then another “flaw” taking the light and surging into radiance.
All too soon, he switched off the laser and turned the room lights back on. It was almost as if a spell had been broken.
“C’mon,” he said. “I’ll show you just where George is on the chart.” He moved back down the hall, the Starmen following. When they were back in the room they had first entered, Vly reached up into a recess where there were several rolled sheets of paper. “Move aside,” he said quietly, pushing a reluctant koalang over and pulling out a large roll. He unrolled it over a rock polisher and gestured for the Starmen to take the corners. It was a map of a portion of the asteroid belt.
“Here’s where we are,” said Vly, pointing to a spot on the map, “and here’s where George is.” His finger swept across the map to where a tiny dot had been placed. “It’s a mining operation of moderate size called Z25. He runs it there with a fair-sized crew—maybe a dozen men.” There were equations, sketches, and notes scribbled all over the sheet.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Vly,” said Mark, “but I don’t follow you. I’m used to plotting coordinates and thinking in three dimensions.”
“See these figures?” asked Vly. “They’re your coordinates. It is a three-dimensional map, in a manner of speaking. If it weren’t, I couldn’t get around. I’ll write down what you need. But you’ll find George on that little plunk of a rock. He’s been there several months now and won’t be hard to find, once I point it out to you. I just spoke to him a few hours ago and I’ll get ahold of him again and tell him you’ll be coming.” He began to write some notes down for Mark.
“Must take a lot of power to run your operation here, Mr. Vly,” observed Mark while he waited for Montezuma to finish writing. “Don’t you have to conserve energy?”
“Haven’t had to conserve energy since I developed a new process for drawing energy directly from the sun.”
“But out here the solar radiation is so weak. You can’t get much energy from solar panels, no matter how efficient—certainly not enough to run your machines without some sort of supplement.”
“I don’t use solar panels any more, Mr. Seaton. I mine energy from the sun directly with an entirely new process. I can pull in and store about four gigawatts. Gives me all I need and plenty left over.”
“Four gigawatts?”
“Four gigawatts. That’s a four with nine zeroes after it.”
Mark almost shouted. “I know how much it is! Mr. Vly! You amaze me! There’s nothing like that anywhere else in the Solar System! Nobody has anything like that, nobody! Not even Starlight Enterprise! You could make a fortune if you sell your design!!”
“Really?” said Mr. Vly, lifting his eyebrows slightly, handing him the sheet with his notes on it. “Excuse me a moment while I write that down, so the next time I want to turn my whole life over to lawyers and businessmen I’ll know just what to do.”
“But, but...” Mark spluttered. Joe laughed and Zip smiled.
“Thank you, Mr. Vly,” said Zip, extending his hand. “It has been a remarkable visit, and we appreciate very much your letting us drop in.”
Montezuma shook Zip’s hand. “Wait a minute, Starmen. Let me give you something to help you while away the long hours in space.” He turned and rummaged through a box, then scanned a shelf behind him. After a moment he pulled out a gold disc in a flat, clear container.
“Take this,” he said, handing it to Zip. “It’s a recording of the entire works of Johann Sebastian Bach. That’s more than 1,200 compositions. The music is so complex that some of its mysteries weren’t even discovered until the computer age. Lily made this disk. She’s an expert in the music of the Renaissance. Does research all the time.”
“Lily?”
“Lily and I have been partners out here for over twenty years. Us and the koalangs.”
Zip put the disk into his pocket. “Thank you, sir. Best wishes to you.”
“You too. An occasional visit once in a while is welcome, especially when people respect my way of life. Most don’t understand. I think you three do. Just protect George. He’s a good friend, and they’re hard to find.”
About 56 hours later, the Vigilant Warrior came into the proximity of Z25. Joe eased the ship through a scattering of moderate-sized asteroids and then came into a space where there were relatively few chunks of stone and iron moving through space. On the far side of the open area was an asteroid nearly twenty miles long and half as wide.
“There it is,” announced Joe. “Z25.”
Zip gave a nod to Mark, and Mark opened communications.
“Vigilant Warrior calling Z25. We have arrived in your area and seek permission to land.”
“You made good time, friends,” came a voice instantly. “Come on in and welcome.”
The Starmen had spoken to St. George once during their journey from Montezuma’s Castle, but only briefly. The communications were encrypted, but even the encryption could be a tipoff to an enemy who might be listening in.
As they made their final approach, the Starmen had a good view of Z25’s horizon near the time of local sunset. The surface was dark because of the oblique illumination, but several boulders caught the sunlight and appeared as bright sentinels on the landscape. The brightest of the boulders, just to the upper right of a deeply shadowed crater in the foreground, marked the landing area. A cluster of artificial structures was visible nearby, and several spaceships were parked in an informal array. A dome covered the buildings, and reflected the sun in a burst of brightness. Mark had a quick memory of dewdrops in the garden of his home on Earth when he was a child. He recalled thinking that each dewdrop held a small sun.
In moments the Starmen were sitting in George St. George’s study. He was a man in his middle-fifties, of average height and weight, with a full head of wavy blond hair. It was obvious that he cut his own hair, but long practice had made him skilled at it. Though his eyes were ice-blue, he exuded warmth. He had a ready smile. The Starmen were sitting in a makeshift room under a temporary atmosphere dome on an isolated asteroid, but St. George’s courtliness and genuine respect for his visitors made them feel as if they were in a manor house. On his desk lay a thick book with the title Commentary on the Letter to the Romans, and several sheets of paper and a pen were set beside it where he had obviously been doing some study.
“I hope you men won’t mind waiting for refreshments. It’s almost dinnertime and the crew will be coming up for a meal in about half an hour. Of course, you’ll join us, won’t you?”
“Thank you Mr. St. George,” responded Zip. “We’d be pleased to meet your men and see your operation.”
“Monty tells me you three are real ripstavers, and he doesn’t say that very often about anybody. You must have impressed him!” St. George was full of smiles.
“May we sit down, Mr. St. George? Our business is rather urgent!” Zip continued.
“Of course, of course. Please forgive me! We don’t get visitors of any kind out here and I’m just not used to entertaining. Please forgive me!” St. George rushed busily setting out chairs, bringing in two from a room next door. “And please call me George.”
Once they were settled, Zip began to tell George about the pirates and Zimbardo’s likely determination to find and eliminate the one man who knew where the pirates’ asteroid could be found. Before he got too far into the story, George lifted a hand and smiled. “Yes, yes, I know,” he said. “Monty told me all about it.”
The Starmen leaped out of their chairs, absolutely stunned. Before they had left Montezuma’s Castle Zip had impressed upon Vly how vital it was for St. George’s safety that they not communicate until his friend was safe. Zip had begged him to send just a quick, encrypted message that Z25 was to expect three visitors who had Vly’s seal of approval—no more.
“George!” gasped Joe. “That message could have been intercepted by the pirates! They must be looking for you!”
“We told Vly not to communicate with you! It could mean your life!” continued Mark, suddenly heartsick with anxiety.
George chuckled. “Don’t worry, Starmen! The pirates already tried to find me through Monty, but the greegles protected him, and the pirates’ll never find me without cooperation from Monty—which they’ll never get. There’s really no need to worry. We’re completely safe here. We’ll have dinner, you’ll stay here to sleep, I’ll show you around the operation, and you can go back to Ceres.”
The Starmen were speechless for a moment. Joe’s eyes nervously scanned the room and Mark stared at George with his mouth agape. Then Zip spoke.
“What are greegles, George?”
George chuckled again. “You haven’t heard of this ‘asteroid miner’s legend’? Most people think it’s in a class with leprechauns and mermaids, the story of the greegles, but it’s all true. The greegles are the inhabitants of the asteroids. Don’t know if they’re alive or not. They’re made of metal—some kind of metal—or maybe they just wear a metal suit. They’re about a foot high. Now, don’t stare at me like that; you’re looking thoroughly obflisticated, probably thinking I’ve been out in the vacuum too long, but I’ve seen them! They’re little and they’re old, very old, but they’re powerful! No one can beat them! Usually no one ever sees them and they don’t have any need to interfere with human beings. They don’t mind it too much, though, if a solitary asteroid miner sees them once in a while.”
“And wh—, what do they have to do with Montezuma?” asked Zip, keeping his voice steady.
“Why, a short time after you left the Castle, about five ships tried to land on the Castle by force—pirates, for sure. No doubt they wanted to force Monty to tell ’em where I am. But Monty knows how to contact the greegles. There’s a lot of greegles on Adamant.” George chuckled again.
“Those poor fellows—the pirates, that is! When the pirates told Monty they were going to land whether he wanted them to or not, why, he just called the greegles for help. They cut four of the ships into pieces in a matter of seconds, leaving the crew floating in their spacesuits. Then they grabbed them with some sort of invisible grappling beam or something and herded them toward the fifth ship. That ship gathered them in and took off.”
Now George laughed out loud. “They got the message real fast! Go away and don’t come back! And they scrammed! Never even set foot on Montezuma’s Castle. Monty will make good use of the floating space junk the pirates left. Serves ’em right!”
Just then a gentle buzz sounded. “That’s the call for dinner, friends. Come meet the others!”
Almost immediately another sound came through the communications system—an urgent clangor. St. George’s face became taut and a look of surprise and anxiety came over his features.
“What’s that?” asked Zip.
“It’s the alarm,” St. George whispered. “It’s never sounded before.” The alarm abruptly shut off and an excited, panic-stricken voice came through the intercom.
“Five ships approaching! Coming in fast! They’re commanding all hands to come to the landing field and threatening to destroy the whole operation if we don’t cooperate! They’ve already started to destroy the base!”
5: The Destruction of Z25
JOE dashed from the room and sped down the hallway to the control center of the mining base. Each strike of a laser beam colored the interior of the buildings with ruby red as the attackers’ targets were vaporized, and the flashes were coming with disturbing frequency. He hurled himself into the tiny office where a frantic young man sat at a console.
“We’re going to die!” cried the young man. Joe looked through the large window and saw five ships hovering over the base. Their laser cannons were rapidly destroying the outlying parts of the mining base. There were no defensive weapons. Joe glanced at the radar screen and his hair stood up as he saw that the screen showed nothing. To the surveillance system, the ships were invisible. The technician was babbling in abject, helpless fear, but Joe’s pulse leaped when he realized that the frightened young man might be right. They could all be dead at any moment. The man fled the room crying.
Joe looked out the window again and saw that laser cannons had begun to destroy the ships. Through the horrifying, rapidly expanding concentric vapor shells, he saw the Vigilant Warrior crumpling into a heap. The other ships were either completely destroyed or well on the way.
“What is this? Who are they?” exclaimed Mark. He, Zip, and George had followed Joe to the control center and were watching the laser beams sweep the landing field. The ships were being indiscriminately reduced to molten slag.
“Their laser beams are immensely powerful, and they’re operating at full capacity,” observed Zip, grimly. Just then the lights went out and every apparatus in the control center went dark.
“They found and destroyed the power plant,” whispered George, the tenseness evident in his voice. “But they’re not touching the inhabited parts of the base.”
Suddenly Zip turned to their host. “George!” he said urgently. “Do any of your crew know that we are Starmen?” George turned a distracted face to Zip and stared as if he wasn’t comprehending what Zip had said.
“Do any of your crew know that we are Starmen?” Zip repeated carefully.
“I—I don’t know. I didn’t tell anybody, I think, but I didn’t keep it a secret.”
“Look! Gather them all together and tell them not to say anything about us to these invaders! Our safety may depend on it, as well as any chance we all have of eventually escaping!”
“Ah—all right,” George stammered.
Since the power was out, there was no way to make an announcement through the communication system, but the rest of the crew was assembling anyway. The refectory was located not far from the control center and the men were coming together there, so the Starmen and George went to join them.
In a moment, there were about a dozen men in the room. Some sat on the benches, others stood. There was palpable fear in the room, as if they knew that sudden, violent death was near.
Zip asked George, “Is this everyone?” George took a quick glance around the room.
“I, I think so, yes.”
Zip took charge. “Men, listen to me. We’re about to be taken captive. I don’t think anything worse will happen to us, or it would have happened by now. My friends and I have come to visit Sabbath George. Just got here from Ceres and sure didn’t expect this!”
George took over. He was showing more confidence now. Alone of the Z25 crew, he had never shown fear, just shock. “We’ll just wait right here, men, and see what’s next. I don’t know who these attackers are or what they want, but don’t volunteer any information of any kind. You hear me? No information of any kind, beyond the most basic.”
The men were silent and collapsed in on themselves. They were afraid, but the panic seemed to have diminished somewhat. Outside, the five ships had landed and about twenty space-suited men had emerged. With weapons in hand, they were approaching the dome. The leader gestured to several of them, who spread out around the dome. The others remained at the main airlock and waited. Their feet were spread in an attitude of defiant power.
“They want the airlock open, Mr. St. George,” said the young man who had fled from the control center. His voice was dry and squeaky.
George said, “Can’t open it. No controls. Those fools destroyed the power center. If they’re coming in, you’ll have to get your spacesuits on because the atmosphere is going to disappear. Make it quick before they blow the airlock by force.” The men scattered. George and the Starmen went to the airlock and looked at the invaders from the inside of the dome. George said to the Starmen, “Of course, there’s a backup power system, but I don’t feel a compelling need to make it any easier for these strangers.”
When the leader saw that there were people coming, he kicked the airlock savagely and aimed his weapon at the mechanism. As was customary, the helmets were lined up on a rack on shelves just inside the airlock. George put on his helmet and the Starmen put on theirs. The rest of the mining crew began to show up with their suits on and found their helmets. When all were suited up and the intercoms were on, George told the mining crew to stand aside. Then he told the leader of the invaders that he could enter.
The man fired a stupendously powerful beam at the airlock that melted it like ice in a furnace. In seconds, the air inside the dome whooshed out into the vacuum of space.
“Get into the ship,” growled the leader of the invaders, indicating the closest of the five spaceships. “No one is going to be hurt, but I’m not guaranteeing that that situation will last. I’m not a patient man and I don’t like wasting time.”
“What about our belongings?” asked George.
“You won’t need them. Move to the ship. Now.” The voice was even and quiet but as hard as iron. Zip started the procession. He slumped down as if completely disheartened and walked like a prisoner, his eyes pointed to the ground. The others followed. The invaders kept them surrounded as they walked the short distance to the pilot ship. Several invaders entered first and then kept watch on the prisoners as they ascended the ladder into the staging area. Once the asteroid miners were aboard, the other invaders entered their ships.
When the door was sealed, the invaders removed their helmets. The miners followed suit. The leader took a quick inventory of the prisoners, and then settled his gaze on George.
“You are George St. George,” he said in a tone that knew he was stating a fact. “My name is Lather. You and your men are now prisoners of Lurton Zimbardo. I am taking you to him. As long as I’ve got you, I don’t care about anything or anyone else. Don’t make any trouble and I won’t see any need to put anyone off the ship. It doesn’t make any difference to me whether any of your men is in deep space or my guest room, but it might make a difference to you—and them.”
Without turning his head, Lather addressed one of his crew. “Blaze, see that this base is melted into the bedrock.”
“Yes sir,” said the man addressed and left the room.
Lather addressed another of his crew. “Spelford, escort the prisoners to their quarters.”
Spelford lifted his weapon and nodded in the direction they were to go. The prisoners went, under the guard of several armed men.
They were taken to a room set up to accommodate up to twenty passengers. There were niches with beds in them, and couches for use during acceleration.
“Prepare for lift-off,” ordered Spelford. The prisoners sat down and strapped themselves in. Spelford and his men left, locking the door behind them. In a moment the warning signal for lift-off was given. The ship raised itself gently from the surface of the asteroid. The fierce glare of destructive laser strikes came through the quartz window for nearly a minute, and the prisoners knew that the living quarters of Z25 were being systematically destroyed.
“They’re ramsquaddling the whole operation,” said Sabbath George in a voice that sounded almost matter-of-fact. “Never had anything like this happen before. This is a first.”
When the glow ceased, the ships accelerated. The Starmen and their companions felt themselves pressed into the chairs.