Treachery in Outer Space Part 33

"I'm going to count five, Manning!" he shouted. "Then I'll hunt you down and freeze you solid."

Gripping the wrench tightly and raising it above his head, Roger eased out from his hiding place and slipped across the floor lightly. He was within four feet of Miles when the black-suited s.p.a.ceman spun around and stepped back quickly. "Sucker," he snarled, and fired.

Roger stood motionless, his arm still raised, the wrench falling to the deck. Miles stuck his face close to Roger's head and said, "I don't know how you got here, but it doesn't make any difference now. In a little while you and your pal, Corbett, are going for a swim out in s.p.a.ce."

Holding Roger by the arm, he tipped the boy over and lowered him to the deck. Roger's arm stuck up like the branch of a tree. Miles stood over him, flipped on the neutralizer charge of the gun, and fired again, releasing Roger from the paralyzing effect of the ray.

The young cadet began to shake violently and through his chattering teeth he muttered a s.p.a.ce oath. Miles only grinned.

"Just wanted you to make yourself comfortable, Manning," he said. He flipped the gun to direct charge again and pointed it at the boy. Seeing it was useless to try and jump the burly s.p.a.ceman, Roger relaxed and stretched out on the deck. Miles fired again calmly, and after testing the effect of the ray with his toe, he turned to the ladder.

As the s.p.a.ceman climbed back to the control deck, Roger, though in a paralyzed state, could hear the communicator loud-speaker paging Miles.

"Come in, Quent! This is Ross! Come in!"

Tom Corbett sat bound and gagged in the copilot's chair of the black s.h.i.+p, listening to Miles call again and again over the audioceiver. The fact that Miles was identifying himself as Ross puzzled the young cadet and he wondered if it was an alias. Tom was even more puzzled when Miles addressed the person he was calling as Quent.

"This is Ross! Acknowledge, Quent! Come in!"

Static spluttered over the loud-speaker and then a clear, harsh voice that was a perfect imitation, answered, "I read you, Ross," it said.

"Where are you?"

Tom watched as Miles made a hasty check on the astrogation chart. "s.p.a.ce quadrant four," he replied. "Chart C for Charley! Where are you?"

"Same s.p.a.ce quadrant, but on chart B for Baker," came the reply. "I think we can make visual contact on radar in above five minutes. Make the usual radar signal for identification. O.K.?"

"Good!" the _s.p.a.ce Knight_ pilot replied. "What course are you on?"

There was a pause and then the voice answered, "South southwest. Speed, emergency maximum."

"Very well. I will adjust course to meet you. But what's the hurry?"

asked Tom's captor.

"Better get out of s.p.a.ce as soon as possible."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

Tom listened intently. He closed his eyes and tried to visualize the charts and s.p.a.ce quadrants he had heard mentioned. He knew the quadrants by heart, and knew that he was close to the asteroid belt. But each quadrant had at least a dozen or more charts, each one taking in a huge area of s.p.a.ce.

"Is Brett with you?" asked the voice over the audioceiver.

"No. I'll tell you about it when we get together. All the rockets in s.p.a.ce broke loose up there on t.i.tan for a while."

"What do you mean? Hey! I think I just picked you up on my radar!" said the voice over the loud-speaker. "Give me the identification signal."

Tom watched Miles go to the radarscope and make a minute adjustment. The voice came over the loud-speaker again. "That's you, all right. Cut back to minimum speed and I'll maneuver to your s.p.a.ce lock."

"Very well," replied the s.p.a.ceman on the _s.p.a.ce Knight_.

He cut the rockets and in a matter of minutes the s.h.i.+p was b.u.mped heavily as contact was made. The voice over the communicator announced the two s.p.a.ce vessels had been coupled. "Open your air lock and come aboard."

"You come aboard my s.h.i.+p," said Miles. "We've got the stuff here."

"O.K. But I have to go below and wake up that jerk, Manning."

"Wake him up?"

"Yeah. I got him frozen."

"All right, make it snappy."

Miles turned to look at Tom, a sneer on his face. "I'm giving you a break, Corbett," he said. "You're going to swim with your cadet buddy.

You'll have company!"

Gagged, Tom could only glare his hatred at the black-suited s.p.a.ceman. In a moment he heard the air lock open below and then footsteps clattered up the ladder to the control deck.

The hatch opened and Roger stumbled inside. He saw Tom immediately and yelled, "Tom! What are--" Suddenly he stopped. He looked at the man standing beside Tom and gasped in astonishment.

Tom watched the hatch as Roger's captor stepped inside. What he saw made him twist around in his chair and stare at the man beside him, utterly bewildered.

"_Twins!_" cried Roger. "Identical twins."

The man stepped through the hatch and walked over to his brother. They shook hands and slapped each other on the back.

"What happened to Charley, Ross?" asked Quent Miles.

"Just a minute, Quent," replied his brother. He turned and grinned at Tom and Roger. "Surprised, huh? Don't let it bother you. We've been driving people crazy ever since we were born. Does this tell you how we won the race?"

"T-t-twin pilots," stuttered Tom in amazement. "And twin s.h.i.+ps?"

"Exactly." Ross laughed. "Pretty smart, eh?"

"Never mind them now," snarled Quent. "I've been sitting up there on that asteroid rock talking to myself. What happened to Charley?"

"Take it easy, will you, Quent?" said Ross. "I want to have some fun."

He turned to Manning. "Untie Corbett and get on the other side of the deck. Have yourselves a nice long talk before you take your last walk."

Roger slowly bent over to untie Tom, muttering a s.p.a.ce oath under his breath. The two brothers retired to the opposite side of the control deck and sat down. Ross kept his paralo-ray pistol in his hand and never once took his eyes off the two cadets.

"Well, what happened?" demanded Quent. "What are you doing here with Corbett and where in the blazes is Charley?"

"Charley is back on t.i.tan, and probably dead," replied Ross easily. "He wouldn't pay any attention to us when we suggested plugging up the old tunnels when we started mining that uranium, so the oxygen which we were sucking off from the main screen supply took too much. The screens started to go. Practically the whole city is flooded with ammonia gas and it's being abandoned."

Roger and Tom stood quietly, listening, and when Roger heard the news he turned to Tom with a questioning look on his face. Tom merely nodded grimly.

"But what are you doing here with this load of pitchblende?" Quent persisted.