The Runaway Asteroid Part 8

"I'm saying that we shouldn't discount an old tale just because it sounds foolish or superst.i.tious. George knew we were coming. He couldn't have known unless Montezuma sent him a message, even though we warned him against doing so. If he sent George a message, he wasn't taken over by the pirates. These aren't the same s.h.i.+ps. These are another part of Zimbardo's fleet sent out to find George St. George.

They must have tracked him down through the message Vly sent-not because they landed on the Castle and threatened him."

Zip looked deeply thoughtful. Joe looked incredulous.

"Mark, you can't be serious!"

"It's not a matter of being serious or not, Joe; it's a matter of being open-minded."

"George described it himself! He's been out in the vacuum too long."

"I don't think George strikes me as an unbalanced man. Unusual, for sure. But not unbalanced. Not unbalanced at all." Mark looked over his shoulder. George had his arms around two of his men and was talking to them in a low voice. The rest of them were gathered around, paying close attention to what he was saying. Already the atmosphere was one of peace. No one seemed afraid now.

Through the window beyond, a portion of the vast arm of the Milky Way spread out in its eternal beauty. The Starmen were silently wondering the same things: How long would it be before they met Lurton Zimbardo?

Would he recognize them? Why did he want St. George alive?

6: Battle Lines

THE PIRATES' ASTEROID swung in a smooth, private orbit about a thousand miles beyond the farthest extremity of the Asteroid Belt. Lurton Zimbardo was in his private sanctum, a well-equipped workroom with precision astronomical equipment, sky charts, and an enormous inventory of computer files. As he turned his telescanner toward the Inner Planets, he saw the spread of the Belt before him.

Countless celestial bodies moved in an incredibly slow pattern like a stately dance. Reflected sunlight glinted from oblique surfaces into the light-gathering lenses of the telescanner. When the occasional crystalline surface or frozen lake on a pa.s.sing asteroid caught the radiance just right, an intense but transitory sparkling brilliance was generated, and created a pattern of astonis.h.i.+ng beauty on the scanner's computer screen.

Zimbardo entered a few more bits of data into the criteria of his search pattern and then said, "Enter." Within seconds several asteroids were marked in his files. He brought their profiles up one by one.

M253.

SHAPE: OBLONG.

MAXIMUM LENGTH: 0.683 MILES.

MAXIMUM WIDTH: 0.307 MILES.

COMPOSITION: 90.568% IRON, 6.443% TIN, 0.752% ICE, 2.237% TRACE ELEMENTS; CLICK HERE FOR DETAILS.

Other information was provided, including the asteroid's precise location and its speed of motion and rotation. Zimbardo hesitated a moment, then said, "Delete." He went on to the next entry.

M3366.

SHAPE: ALMOST PERFECT SPHERE; VARIATION <>

MEAN DIAMETER, 0.057 MILES.

The other information was provided. Zimbardo smiled. "Ah-nearly solid iron and about 100 yards exactly!" he thought to himself. "That makes five." He told the computer to save that file, then opened the intercom.

"Gene," he said.

"Yes sir," came the immediate response.

"Contact Mr. Cra.s.s and tell him I want M3366."

"Right away, sir."

"Then call the five lieutenants up to my study at once, please. Get Kimball, Lorry, and Jenner also. Once you've called them, come up yourself." Gene nodded and activated the personal contact codes of the men Zimbardo wanted to see.

A quarter of an hour later, the ten men were in the lounge in Zimbardo's quarters. He was playing host, and pouring out a dark golden sherry wine into luxurious spun gla.s.s goblets.

One of the men lifted up the goblet so the illumination reflected from it, highlighting subtle rainbow whorls in the surface. He swirled his wine before he sipped it.

"Very nice, Lurton, and the gla.s.s here is pretty top stuff."

"The wine came from Earth but the gla.s.sware came with the asteroid, Jeff. This place has so much in it that I haven't found a hundredth of what it contains, but all of it is high quality."

The men relaxed in the comfortable chairs. The chairs automatically adjusted to the body weight and shape of whoever sat in them. Soft, almost imperceptible music was playing in the background. A light fragrance in the air eased tensions and sharpened minds for thought.

Zimbardo had nothing to do with creating this atmosphere-these features came on automatically whenever anyone entered the room.

"Petty soft life you got here, Zimbardo," sighed the man named Lorry, easing himself down into his chair. "I'm not used to this kind of comfort."

"No, Lorry, I guess not. You don't find too many easy chairs aboard the kind of s.h.i.+ps you pilot when you're transporting the Banjoman's flilox to his customers in the Belt. But when our plan succeeds, you'll be able to buy all the soft chairs you want. Let's get down to business."

Zimbardo stood before the a.s.sembled company. Behind him, taking up most of the wall, was a map of a large portion of Mars. "As I was saying when we met in the hangar a.s.sembly room yesterday, it is simply a matter of choosing an appropriate target to convince them we have the capability. What should our target be? Well here, gentlemen, are the five major atmospheric generation plants on Mars." He turned to the map and pointed out five places-two in the northern hemisphere, two near the equator, and one in the southern hemisphere. "Each is valued at two billion solars and would take several years to replace. The damage won't bankrupt the government, but the expense is far from negligible!

Even more importantly, when they are destroyed, Starlight Enterprise's terraformation project will suffer a severe setback-possibly as much as three to four years. Now, data gathered from a.n.a.lysis has shown that these plants can be removed very easily by the proposal we have suggested. Mr. Cra.s.s, do you have anything to add?"

"No, Mr. Zimbardo. I've checked the specs on the asteroids you've selected and I've checked progress with what Stubb is doing. If he has the propulsion units ready in ten days, we can deliver our first package to Mars in precisely two weeks."

A muscular man in short sleeves spoke up. Since no one else wore short sleeves, everyone suspected that he wore his sleeves short to show off his biceps. "Lurton-what about the s.h.i.+ps that went to interrogate Vly?

We know five took off, and yesterday I only saw one return. No one else wants to ask about it, but I'm asking. If I'm going to risk my men and my s.h.i.+ps on this venture of yours, I want to know what's involved."

As the man was speaking, Gene lowered his head and kept his eyes on the floor.

"All right, Captain Kimball. It's a fair question. You're right. Five went out and only one returned. None of the men was lost-the returning s.h.i.+p brought them all back. But four of the s.h.i.+ps were destroyed before they could land on Montezuma's Castle." Zimbardo's five lieutenants were already aware of the setback. The visitors, Jeff Jenner and Lorry, were stunned. Kimball grunted, as if a suspicion had been confirmed.

"Well?" he pressed, his face hard and demanding.

"Gene," said Zimbardo, turning away. He didn't like to deliver news of defeat.

"The pilots of the s.h.i.+ps tell essentially the same story," began Gene.

"They came directly to Montezuma's asteroid, opened communications, and insisted that they were going to land. There was no response. But within seconds some kind of energy beam came forth from Adamant, the neighboring asteroid, and sliced the four s.h.i.+ps into small sections. It was clear that there was no intention to kill any personnel-only to destroy the s.h.i.+ps. The crews were left floating in s.p.a.ce. Forces of some kind we are not familiar with pulled them into the proximity of the remaining s.h.i.+p, where they were taken aboard. Clearly, against forces like that we are helpless. The s.h.i.+p returned immediately. The men are badly shaken."

Kimball grunted again. "And Vly?"

Zimbardo answered. "They never talked to him. But we don't need him. A short time after this incident he radioed to St. George and we intercepted the beam. We'd been looking for it. Vly probably a.s.sumed that with the destruction of our landing party he was safe and so was St. George. But his call went directly to asteroid Z25. It was encrypted so we couldn't read it, but we didn't have to know what the message was to know where it went. Our other five s.h.i.+ps were two days away from the location. They went directly there and picked up all the miners, including St. George, in a very neat operation."

The intercom buzzed. "Mr. Zimbardo?"

"Yes, what is it?" he responded with obvious irritation.

"Sorry to bother you, sir, but you asked to be informed as soon as the s.h.i.+ps returned. The Silver Cloud and its four companion s.h.i.+ps are expected to dock in approximately 45 minutes."

"Very good!" Zimbardo's initial irritation was instantly dispelled.

"Tell Mr. Lather to put the prisoners into the cell block. I will deal with them later." The intercom went off and Zimbardo turned back to the gathering. "As you heard, St. George will be on the asteroid within the hour."

There were nods around the table. Many questions were asked about the destruction of the four s.h.i.+ps near Montezuma's Castle, but there were no answers. The issue was left unresolved; Zimbardo, however, was not saying everything he suspected. He was frightened, but determined that no one would know it. He had heard of the legend of the greegles and took it more seriously than anyone would ever suspect.