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Sloat. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +--> + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Space Rover, by Edwin K. Sloat + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Space Rover + +Author: Edwin K. Sloat + +Release Date: August 15, 2009 [EBook #29702] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SPACE ROVER *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + +<h1>The Space Rover</h1> + +<h2>By Edwin K. Sloat</h2> + +<p>[Transcriber's note: This etext was produced from Astounding Stories +February 1932. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the +U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> + +<h3>Young Winford heads a desperate escape from the prison mines of +Mercury.</h3> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h4>[Illustration: <i>Winford leaped out into space along the cable.</i>]</h4> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + + + +<p>Evan Winford leaned wearily against the controls of the little space +sphere, and stared out of the window at the planet, Mercury, which lay a +million miles sunward. Fail now? He gritted his teeth. No! He would +wrench victory from Fate after all, even though at this moment mine +guards must be searching the nearby mountains, for him and his +companions, and a warning was being broadcast to all the planets and +space ships to watch the little prison tender ship, the one that was +used to transfer prisoners from liners out in space to Mercury and its +Interplanetary Council prison mines to which all who were sentenced came +on one-way tickets only. This was the first time, Winford reflected +grimly, that the sphere had ever carried outbound passengers.</p> + +<p>A long, quavering wail sounded from the hold below. Winford scowled. +That fellow, Agar, again. Too bad, for he was unquestionably an +engineering genius and thoroughly dependable when he didn't get one of +his spells and imagine he was a godo-dog on the red steppes of his +native Mars. A little rest and gentle treatment would unquestionably +work wonders. Again the wail, followed this time by a series of growls.</p> + +<p>Winford slid open the door that separated the control nest from the hold +of the little prison tender ship. The other five men had withdrawn to +the other side of the cabin and were watching listlessly the big, +ragged, barrel-chested Martian crouching on all fours against the side +of the cabin and ferociously baring his teeth.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter down there?" called Winford sharply.</p> + +<p>Six pairs of eyes looked up at him. Agar forgot he was a dog and stared +with the rest. They were an unkempt, ragged lot with unshaven faces and +the dirty, white canvas uniforms of mine prisoners. The group was +composed of four Martians and two Venusians.</p> + +<p>"Let's go back," growled Nizzo, whose squat, powerful body and long arms +bespoke his Venus ancestry. "It's death out here. No food. No water, +excepting the emergency ration you have up there in the box. That will +scarcely last till we can reach Mercury again. Now you tell us that the +fuel is nearly exhausted. Let's go back. I say! We don't want to swing +about the Sun in this as our tomb for all eternity. At least we eat and +drink at the mines, even though the whips of the drivers hurry us on to +an early death."</p> + +<p>"You're crazy, Nizzo," harshly retorted Winford. "You know what they do +when escaped prisoners are brought back, or come of their own free will. +The Universe knows nothing of the caged saurians in the warden's +gardens, nor of the incorrigible prisoners that go to feed them. But I +know—we all of us know. Far better to remain out here and die whole, +than to be devoured alive by a slobbering horror."</p> + +<p>A heated argument ensued among the men below. Presently Nizzo looked up +again.</p> + +<p>"But you have no plan," he shouted at the Earthman. "We have followed +you blindly so far, and here we are off the traffic lanes. Our only hope +of being picked up now is one of space patrol ships. And short shrift +may we expect from them!"</p> + +<p>Winford scowled impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Listen, men," he began. "This is a desperate venture, I know, and I +picked every one of you carefully. You are not common scum of the prison +mines. Every man of you can be depended upon to put through a daring +escape of this nature. Every man of you is an innocent victim of the +rotten politicians and corrupt officials that now hold sway in the Three +Planets. Take Jarl there, for example." He indicated a big, patient, +resigned Martian. "He is under life sentence in the penal mines simply +because his brother-in-law wanted his lands and wealth. As for myself, I +had a sister who suffered the misfortune of being seen and coveted by +Silas Teutoberg, a member of the Earth Council...."</p> + +<p>He choked at the thought, his pale face rigid with emotion. Those below +saw the flash of his lambent eyes. He controlled himself with an effort, +and continued:</p> + +<p>"I have said nothing of any plan beyond that of making our escape in +this prison tender off Mercury, but I had a plan behind that. It is true +that we seem to be off the regular traffic lanes, but space liners +between Venus and Earth just now are cutting in quite close to Mercury, +due to the position of the three planets in their orbits. This formed +the basis of the whole venture.</p> + +<p>"During the three interplanetary days we have floated out here, I have +repeatedly scanned the Void, thinking every minute we would sight a +craft we could reach. But so far luck has been against us. All I ask is +that you do not allow yourselves to be discouraged, for sooner or later +we'll get a break."</p> + +<p>A chorus of enthusiastic approval answered him. Winford sighed with +relief, then stared abruptly through the window and gave a shout. The +others below swarmed up the ladder and crowded into the tiny control +nest. Winford pointed.</p> + +<p>Far off against the black depths of space toward Venus gleamed the tiny, +elliptical, silvery hull of a ship, bearing slightly toward them. +Although sharply outlined, the craft was hundreds of miles away as the +men realized. Winford checked it swiftly through the telescope distance +calculator, determined its speed, and rapidly formed his plan.</p> + +<p>"There are plenty of space suits in the lockers," he said tersely. "Get +into them. Stand by the air-lock. You, Jarl, get into the lock and take +a cable with an electro-magnet anchor. Lash yourself to it. When I give +the signal by blinking the lights in the lock, open the outer door and +leap across to the other ship. I know you risk death from their rays, +but it is our only chance. Clamp the anchor against the side of the ship +and locate the emergency entrance lock."</p> + +<p>"Suppose there is none?" interrupted Jarl stoically.</p> + +<p>"Chances are there will be. The interplanetary treaties call for them on +most ships since those five hundred passengers perished trying vainly to +enter a liner after their own ship was smashed by a meteor out near +Jupiter several years ago. Anyway, it's our only chance. You, Nizzo and +Ragna, enter the air-lock with Jarl so that if he misses, you can pull +him back. Now hurry. I'll have to maneuver this tub around so that I can +approach the ship, if possible, without being noticed."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The others scuttled back down the ladder, leaving Winford to rapidly +work out his final calculations. The ship, traveling at a rate of six +thousand miles an hour, would miss their little sphere by about a +hundred miles. The ship was probably a slow speed freighter, a guess +that was supported by the lack of port-holes in the hull.</p> + +<p>It was a ticklish task that Winford faced. He could either approach the +freighter from against the sun, trusting that the navigation officer on +duty would fail to notice the dark blot of the little tender against the +blinding glare. Or he could get on the far side of the ship and approach +it, concealed by its black shadow. He decided on the latter plan.</p> + +<p>The freighter was coming up fast. Winford eased the accelerator open, +and moved off at right angles to its line of progress to place it +between him and the sun. If the officer in charge of the freighter +should see the tiny dot go shooting presently across his path, he would +doubtless mistake it for a wandering meteor. As soon as he crossed the +path of the big ship, Winford slowly turned his little craft toward the +protecting shadow of his prospective victim, and picked up speed as +quickly as he dared until the little tender was traveling at the same +speed as the freighter. Lucky it was for him that the big craft was not +a mail liner, for if it had been, the little ball could never have +gained speed enough to equal it.</p> + +<p>The shadow of the freighter presently enveloped the little ship, and the +two hung side by side. Winford eased the tender in toward the big craft, +fully realizing that the meteor warning dial in the control room of the +freighter would hint at his presence by its pronounced fluctuation. But +there was no help for it; he could only take the chance that the +navigator in charge would not investigate. Winford peered up anxiously +at the windows of the control room. Apparently the little craft had not +yet been discovered.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Less than a hundred yards now separated the two craft. Winford flashed +his signal to the air-lock. A moment later a dark blob that shut off the +light of the stars in depths below floated across the gap from the +tender to the freighter. The electric meter on the control board +registered a sudden fluctuation as the electro-magnet anchor attached +itself to the hull of the big ship.</p> + +<p>Winford snapped off the propulsion beams, seized two ray pistols that +lay on the chart table, and ducked down the ladder. His companions were +standing before the inner door of the air-lock in their bulging space +suits, awaiting his order to leave the tender. He quickly got into a +suit, clamped on the helmet and screwed tight the connections. Then he +opened the door of the air-lock and motioned the others into it, +following the last man in.</p> + +<p>Nizzo and Ragna were waiting there, and as the inner door closed, +automatically opening the outer door, they pointed to the cable +stretching away across forty yards of empty space to the side of the big +freighter. Winford could make out faintly the form of Jarl, who was +clambering cautiously up the bulging side of the ship on hands and +knees, seeking the emergency air-lock. Winford beckoned to the others to +follow, and leaped out into space along the cable.</p> + +<p>It was a terrifying experience, for no matter how often a man made such +a trip, there was always the primitive fear of falling into those +millions upon millions of miles of space below where the stars gleamed, +red, green, white and blue in the cold depths. Yet a man had no weight. +He merely pulled himself along the cable, which kept him from getting +lost.</p> + +<p>He reached the bulging side of the hull and continued upward on hands +and knees, now held to it by its own attraction for his body. The others +followed, and scattered out seeking the emergency entrance lock.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>At the end of an hour they were in despair. There was no emergency +entrance lock! Winford bitterly resigned himself to their fate. This was +the end of their daring attempt. He must go forward now to the control +room windows and attract the attention of the navigating officer. It +meant surrender and subsequent death in the teeth of the caged saurians, +but if they remained much longer where they were they would freeze to +death anyway, for the batteries that warmed their suits were running +down under the continued strain, and when they ceased to function, the +deadly cold of interstellar space would claim them. He managed to make +known his intentions to the others and was starting forward when Fate +took a hand.</p> + +<p>The prison tender ship, which was still floating at the end of its cable +at the side of the freighter, relinquished itself to the play of the +forces that rule the measureless void and began to set up an orbit of +its own about the bigger ship. It came to the end of its tether and +swung gently against the hull of the freighter, sending a violent +vibration through it; then it rebounded and struck with another crash +which was utterly soundless to the stranded men on the outside of the +hull, who, nevertheless, felt the vibration plainly.</p> + +<p>Winford halted abruptly. The crew inside the ship would investigate. +Fate was offering the desperate men on the outside another chance. He +turned and beckoned to the others and hurried aft toward the regular +air-lock, which was operated only from inside the ship. Hastily he +placed the men about the outer door. Then they waited.</p> + +<p>Five minutes later it opened, and two men in space suits crawled out. +Jarl captured the first man single-handed, and Nizzo and Ragna, with +perfect teamwork, overpowered the second before he realized what was +taking place. Within a minute the men crowded into the air-lock, and +shut the outer portal. Automatically, the inner door slid open.</p> + +<p>Winford stepped out into the passageway with his ray pistols, covering +the half dozen members of the crew who gaped at the intruders in +speechless astonishment. One man recovered his wits and started to run. +Winford's pistol stabbed a ray after him, and he collapsed. The other +members of the crew silently raised their hands in surrender and were +herded into a nearby stateroom and locked in, including the two in space +suits who had been captured on the hull outside.</p> + +<p>"Overpower and imprison the crew at once," Winford ordered, as he +emerged from his space suit. "Jarl, you take charge, and work through +the ship. Miss no one. Bind them, imprison them, if you can, and if you +must, use sterner measures. Remember you are now pirates, and if we +don't capture this ship, the ship will capture us. I'll go ahead alone +to the control room and introduce myself to the officers there. When you +have cleaned things up, join me."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Captain Robers was peering out through the window at the dark blob of +the space tender near the rear of the big freighter when the door of the +control room opened softly and Winford slipped inside with leveled ray +pistols. The two navigation officers on duty gasped in astonishment. +Captain Robers whirled around. His momentary amazement gave way to +wrath.</p> + +<p>"Who the devil are you, and what do you want?" he bellowed.</p> + +<p>Winford's eyes blazed coldly. The ray pistols in his hands twitched +meaningly.</p> + +<p>"Civility first, Captain. Hands off those instruments, gentlemen. Stand +up. Face the windows. Thank you."</p> + +<p>With catlike quickness Winford leaped behind the chart table. A glance +showed that the ship was holding to its course with unchecked speed. +Only the meteor detector fluctuated from the presence of the little +space ship outside. No worry there. Disintegrator rays would soon +dissolve it, and with it the last visible evidence of their presence on +the ship.</p> + +<p>"Now, Captain, you may turn about facing me. I want a little +information."</p> + +<p>"You'll sniff gas for this!" snarled the officer. "This is piracy pure +and simple. Who are you, anyway?"</p> + +<p>Winford smiled ironically. Captain Robers' eyes widened suddenly and he +paled slightly, as he recognized the dirty white uniform.</p> + +<p>"The mines of Mercury!" he ejaculated. "We received a heliogram not +twenty-four hours ago warning us of your escape. You're Evan Winford of +Earth!"</p> + +<p>Winford bowed slightly.</p> + +<p>"At your service, Captain. My six companions are even now trussing up +the remainder of your crew down below. Don't choke, Captain. You are in +no danger, unless you make it yourself. I desire a little information +about the Universe. You see I have been out of touch for the last three +years during my enforced sojourn on Mercury."</p> + +<p>Captain Robers glared at Winford.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Captain, who are you, and what is this craft?"</p> + +<p>The officer thrust out his chin stubbornly, then glanced at the pistol +covering him and changed his mind.</p> + +<p>"Captain Robers. The freighter is the <i>Golden Fleece</i>."</p> + +<p>"Port?"</p> + +<p>"New York. I am homeward bound with a cargo from Ceres of the +Asteroids."</p> + +<p>Winford's eyes gleamed momentarily.</p> + +<p>"Iridium, eh?"</p> + +<p>Captain Robers declined to answer. The valuable metal, which was found +mostly in abundance among the Asteroids and particularly on Ceres, had +proved the bait that lured pirates in flocks from all parts of the +Universe to prey on the freighters that carried it, usually under heavy +guard. The <i>Golden Fleece</i> had obviously been trying to slip through +under the camouflage of an ordinary tramp freighter when Winford and his +followers boarded her. Robers saw no reason for trying to lie about +Ceres, since Winford would discover it later when he examined the log. +Winford, however, did not press the question about the cargo.</p> + +<p>"Who is the owner, Captain?"</p> + +<p>"The Interstellar Transportation Company, New York, Silas Teutoberg, +president."</p> + +<p>Winford leaped to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Repeat that name, Captain," he ordered harshly.</p> + +<p>"Silas Teutoberg," sullenly complied the officer. "But don't be so +excited. He has already resigned."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>A crafty light appeared in the captain's eyes. He sensed a slight +advantage in retaining this knowledge himself.</p> + +<p>"I decline to answer," he stated.</p> + +<p>The lambent flames leaped ominously in Winford's eyes. He toyed with the +ray pistol expressively, then glanced up at a sudden interruption. The +control room door had opened, admitting Jarl and Ragna.</p> + +<p>"The crew is all accounted for," announced Jarl. "We imprisoned a +hundred men and have control."</p> + +<p>"Very good, Jarl," replied Winford calmly. "Ragna, take these two +navigating officers down and lock them up with the rest. Jarl, you +remain here. I have a little task for you."</p> + +<p>"Awah," replied Jarl, using the Martian term for "very good, sir."</p> + +<p>"Captain Robers here is going to strip off his clothing and pass out +through the air-lock into space." Winford spoke each word with cold +precision.</p> + +<p>The officer jerked up his head in sudden terror. He had once witnessed +the modern equivalent for the ancient piratical sentence of walking the +plank and the vivid memory rose before him. He saw again the nude man +cowering inside the air-lock as the inner door shut, the wafting out +into interstellar space of his struggling body as the atmosphere inside +the lock rushed out of the outer opening door, and the fatal bloating of +the body from the sudden pressure from within. The horror of it unlocked +the officer's tongue.</p> + +<p>"I'll answer, I'll answer!" he cried. "What do you want to know?"</p> + +<p>"Tell me why Silas Teutoberg is resigning as president of the +Interstellar Transportation Company."</p> + +<p>In the momentary silence that followed, Jarl's eyes narrowed with sudden +intensity. His interest escaped Winford, who was watching Robers +closely. The officer gulped with relief.</p> + +<p>"Teutoberg has been named governor of the new emigration colonies the +United States is establishing on Ganymede," he explained hurriedly. "The +Earth Council, which recently took over the most fertile provinces on +the third moon of Jupiter, with the full approval of the Interplanetary +Council, has named him for the post. The position is nearly the same as +that of an absolute monarch. But he could not hold a government post and +retain his executive position with the Interstellar people, so he +resigned."</p> + +<p>Winford eyed him skeptically. Captain Robers, now greatly agitated, +gestured frantically toward the chart table.</p> + +<p>"I am telling you the truth!" he assured Winford fervently. "You'll find +somewhere on the table a copy of the Heliogram News which tells of his +departure from New York less than twelve hours ago in a specially +chartered liner with his staff and friends for New Chicago, on Ganymede. +It also tells of his approaching marriage to Princess Irkeen, daughter +of King Donossus, a political marriage that will assure Teutoberg's +position with the natives."</p> + +<p>"Poor girl," muttered Winford under his breath, searching among the +loose papers on the chart table for the copy of the news which was +received every twelve hours by automatic helioprinter from New York +millions of miles away. He read the article about Teutoberg through and +laid aside the paper. Turning to the charts he jotted down a few hasty +calculations, and stepped to the controls where he set a new course for +the "iron mike" of the space freighter to follow.</p> + +<p>"Captain Robers, I have changed my mind about having you go out into +space from the air-lock," he announced, turning again to the anxious +officer. "We will hold you prisoner with your men and later on will set +you down on one of Jupiter's smaller satellites—Callisto, if possible, +since the living conditions there are quite satisfactory. Word will be +sent to Mars of where you can be found. All of your crew, excepting +those who wish to sign on with me, will be freed with you. I and my six +companions are hardly enough to operate such a craft as this. +Incidentally, we are appropriating the <i>Golden Fleece</i> and its cargo. If +the Interstellar people object, they may present the bill to Silas +Teutoberg, and he can deduct it from the income my property yields him."</p> + +<p>Captain Robers glanced up curiously at the harsh bitterness that crept +into Winford's voice. Then his glance shifted to Jarl, and he was amazed +to see the malevolent expression that appeared on the Martian's face as +he listened to Winford's words. The moment passed, and Jarl silently +escorted the officers below to be locked up with the rest of his crew.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Three weeks later, Earth time, the <i>Golden Fleece</i> slipped into the +atmosphere of Callisto, the fourth satellite of mighty Jupiter, which +swung in its orbit a million and a quarter miles from the great planet. +Far off to the west, separated by two million miles of empty space, +floated Ganymede, the third satellite, on which the people of the United +States were now gaining a foothold with their newly planted colonies.</p> + +<p>The big freighter, under the engineering genius of Agar, had made a +marvelously speedy journey from its original position just outside the +orbit of Mercury to this point nearly four hundred and fifty million +miles away from the little planet. Winford studied the ground below. He +was only partly acquainted with the topography of Callisto and wanted to +be sure to pick a spot where Captain Robers and his men could be certain +of surviving until help arrived. His eye picked out a satisfactory spot +close beside the Gnan River in one of the stunted conifer forests of the +planet. Swiftly he dropped the big freighter until it hovered but a few +yards above the ground.</p> + +<p>A freight port-hole was opened, and Captain Robers, accompanied by half +his crew, prepared to descend. They were all bundled in heavy garments, +for the temperature of Callisto, never high, frequently drops to +sub-zero readings. Winford stood at the port and watched the men climb +down the rope ladder to the ground below.</p> + +<p>Robers was last to go. He faced Winford bitterly, for this escaped lifer +from Mercury had stolen not only his ship, but half his crew as well, +and the prospect of a liberal share of the rich iridium cargo in the +hold.</p> + +<p>"You'll regret this day!" snarled the captain. "I'll be in the front row +of spectators when you sniff the death gas in the glass execution cage +on Mars. Hundreds have tried this sort of thing before you, and every +man of them has come finally to the cage."</p> + +<p>"You're only delaying us, Captain Robers," replied Winford coldly. "I am +in a hurry to be on my way. Kindly move down the ladder and join your +men. Your hand weapons and food supplies will be dropped by parachute as +we leave. I might add that in a short time I expect to be in a position +to broadcast an S O S message for you which should bring rescue ships +here to Callisto for you. Good-by."</p> + +<p>He turned away, leaving the officer to descend the ladder in baffled +fury to the ground below, where his men huddled together in the +unfamiliar cold, and stared half fearful at the far-away sun glowing +like a yellow arc-light in the depths of space half a billion miles +away.</p> + +<p>When the rising ship reached the thousand-foot level, the weapons and +food were dropped by parachute, and the port-hole closed and locked. +Winford hurried forward to the control room where the two navigators, +who had signed with him for a hundred and twentieth share of the iridium +each, were already pointing the nose of the ship up through the purple +heavens toward Ganymede.</p> + +<p>"Open her up! Use the emergency propulsion beams!" ordered Winford. "We +are overdue now for my tryst with this new governor at New Chicago!"</p> + +<p>The officers gazed at him in awe, wondering what desperate thing he +planned at the new colonial capital.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Winford was poring over the maps of New Chicago six hours later in the +chart room when one of the navigation officers touched him on the +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Battle sphere rapidly overhauling us from sunward, sir," said the man. +"Approaching us against the glare of sunlight until it was so close when +we discovered it that escape is now impossible. I'd say it is one of the +new 4-Q heavies of the Interplanetary Council patrol fleet."</p> + +<p>Winford hurried to the telescope. As his anxious eye took in the +spherical outline of the battle craft, showing as a silvery crescent to +the rear and starboard of them, he recognized it as one of the heavily +armored spheres of the Interplanetary Council's fleet with the new long +range K-ray disintegrator guns.</p> + +<p>Winford seized a telescope speed calculator. The sphere was coming up +far too rapidly to permit the <i>Golden Fleece</i> to pick up speed soon +enough to escape—although he was confident the freighter could do it +now, since Agar had changed its propulsion machinery.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the commander of the battle sphere was merely curious about the +<i>Golden Fleece</i> since it appeared to be an ordinary tramp freighter with +no distinguishing emblems or other identification, and was coming close +to give her a better look. Or perhaps he was hurrying to some +destination and his nearness to the <i>Golden Fleece</i> was merely +accidental.</p> + +<p>Whatever the cause, there remained but one thing to do, and that was to +keep the freighter on its course as though nothing out of the ordinary +was taking place. Winford turned to the communication board and cut in +the universal radio wave. The instrument was silent. He sighed. At least +the commander of the battle sphere was not trying to communicate with +him.</p> + +<p>Winford turned back to the window again. The sphere was quite close now, +and its speed was dropping rapidly. Suddenly the radio loud-speaker +hummed to life.</p> + +<p>"Ahoy there, aboard the freighter," sounded a stern, determined voice. +"This is the Interplanetary Council battle sphere, <i>Eagle</i>, nearing you. +We are coming aboard you to investigate. Make ready your air-lock to +receive us. Attempt nothing hostile. Hundred-kilowatt ray guns are +trained on you."</p> + +<p>Winford cut in the microphone and answered with the customary "O. K." +reply; then he turned to the two white-faced navigators.</p> + +<p>"Carry on as usual," he said grimly. "Perhaps we can fool them once they +are aboard."</p> + +<p>Then he turned to the phone connecting with the crew's quarters. He +hurriedly explained the situation to Jarl and instructed him to receive +the boarding party at the air-lock.</p> + +<p>The big battle sphere was drawing close alongside. Magnet grapnels shot +across the narrow space between the two craft and gripped the side of +the freighter, followed by the cable bridge along which the boarding +party presently came wavering their way to the air-lock of the +freighter.</p> + +<p>Winford counted fifty men, then turned away dejectedly. This was no +ordinary inspection party, but a prize crew coming aboard. He sat down +wearily. Just as victory seemed almost within his grasp—had been +actually in his hand when he had started to Ganymede—this battle sphere +popped up out of nowhere like an inescapable doom to strike him and his +companions down. He gritted his teeth. Some way, somehow he would still +win out. He and his fellows had come too far to be cheated of liberty +now.</p> + +<p>The door of the control room opened, and a smart young officer in gold +and gray of the Interplanetary Council Marine service entered, +accompanied by three privates with drawn pistols who took their +positions near the door. Winford noted the clean-cut lines and fresh +features of the officer and felt that under different circumstances he +would like to know him.</p> + +<p>"I am Lieutenant Commander 6666-A," the officer introduced himself, +using the designation the Interplanetary Council required of all their +fighting men. "You are Evan Winford, are you not?"</p> + +<p>Winford nodded.</p> + +<p>"You nearly got away with it, Winford," complimented the officer with a +boyish grin. "I almost admire you for it. But you made at least one +fatal error."</p> + +<p>"What was that?" asked Winford curiously.</p> + +<p>"When you put Captain Robers and his men off this ship they smuggled out +with them a hand-operated helio set. Each man carried a part. Within an +hour after you left they had it assembled and were cranking out S O S +signals. We happened to be but a million miles off Callisto and picked +up their message. At once our commander decided to start out and rope in +the <i>Golden Fleece</i> before you did any further damage. And here we are."</p> + +<p>Winford cursed himself under his breath. Fool that he had been not to +have had the men and their baggage searched more carefully before he +allowed them to leave the freighter. Nizzo was responsible for that. He +should be—but it was too late now. No use crying over spilled milk. He +forced a grin and shrugged.</p> + +<p>"'The best laid plans of mice and men—'" he quoted philosophically. "I +hope the entire blame for this wild venture is put on my shoulders where +it belongs when we are brought to trial. These two navigators here and +the rest of the men are in no way responsible. I forced every man of +them under pain of death to join me."</p> + +<p>The young officer shook his head and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Not a chance of that, Winford. You'll all stand trial alike, and you +know it. You are rather a strange sort of pirate, it seems to me, to +offer yourself as a sacrifice for your men. I'd say you are too +tender-hearted for buccaneering in the Void."</p> + +<p>"If I had succeeded in reaching New Chicago, you might have gained a +different impression of me," retorted Winford, his lambent eyes flaming +at the thought. "I have sworn to kill Silas Teutoberg, the new governor +of Ganymede, because he sent me to die in the mines of Mercury for a +crime I never committed."</p> + +<p>The young officer laughed.</p> + +<p>"You can set your mind at rest about him, Winford. He was due at New +Chicago five days ago in his specially chartered space liner from New +York. Nothing was heard from his ship ten days after he left New York +with his guests aboard. His last reported position was near the Mars +orbit and since then nothing has come out of the Void. They'll just +chalk him under the 'Lost in Space' column on the admiralty boards of +the Universe and give the credit for his disappearance to some hurtling +meteor. We were on our way to search for the remains of his liner when +we intercepted the messages from Captain Robers and his men on +Callisto."</p> + +<p>Winford's face was bleak.</p> + +<p>"Fate has prevented me from achieving my greatest desire," he said +harshly. "To rid the Universe of that scourge to humanity would have +been one of the sweetest moments of my life. I've dreamed of it for +years."</p> + +<p>The officer lighted a cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you are right, but I'd say the chance is gone in more ways than +one. Teutoberg is undoubtedly dead, and you are on your way to the gas +execution cage on Mars. Incidentally, you are now my prisoner. I'll not +lock you in the hold with the rest of your crew, but will confine you to +your stateroom."</p> + +<p>Winford surveyed him curiously.</p> + +<p>"I warn you that I'll take advantage of any opportunity to escape," he +said.</p> + +<p>The officer grinned.</p> + +<p>"That's to be expected. So would any other man doomed to die. But the +coronium doors, locks and walls of the <i>Golden Fleece's</i> staterooms are +practically escape proof, and with two of my marines on guard outside +your door, with orders to kill if you break out, I feel reasonably +safe."</p> + +<p>Imprisoned in his stateroom, Winford threw himself on his bunk. Too +early to attempt anything yet, he considered. It would be better to wait +a few days—at least until <i>Eagle</i> had departed. Besides, he would have +to work out a plan for escape.</p> + +<p>He glanced up at the port-hole. The sunlight was shifting. He arose and +peered out. Twenty-five miles away he could see the battle sphere +standing out across the Void on a sunward course. The <i>Golden Fleece</i> +was turning her nose toward distant Mars, a long journey, since the Red +Planet was on the opposite side of the sun, seven hundred million miles +away.</p> + +<p>Winford knew what was taking place. The commander of the battle sphere +was again resuming his mission of searching for the missing liner, while +the young officer and his crew were taking the <i>Golden Fleece</i> with its +iridium cargo and pirate crew directly to Mars.</p> + +<p>Meantime the radio and audio-vision announcers on all the planets were +broadcasting the sensational news of the capture of the escaped +convict-pirates and their forthcoming trial and certain execution on +Mars. Winford turned bitterly away from the port-hole.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>One week had passed. Winford started up out of a sound sleep. He +listened tensely. There was a murmur through the big freighter. He +recognized it as the clanging of the great alarm gongs through the hull +of the big ship, muffled by the walls of his stateroom. Something was +afoot!</p> + +<p>He threw off the covers, sprang out on the deck and pulled on his +clothes. This might be a break! Those gongs never sounded without plenty +of cause.</p> + +<p>He pulled a chair to the door, mounted it, and cautiously opening the +transom which he had previously loosened, thrust his head out into the +passage.</p> + +<p>A marine was running down the passage. The guards before Winford's door +tried to stop him, but the man ran on. Presently another came along. The +guard was more successful.</p> + +<p>"Say, Buddie, what's all the excitement?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"We've found Teutoberg's liner, or rather, it has found us!" exclaimed +the marine. "They say old Teutoberg has trained his heaviest guns on us +and is demanding that we surrender. Our skipper doesn't know just what +to make of it. He's arguing with Teutoberg by radio that this old tub is +in the hands of the law already and that he is taking it to Mars for the +piracy court. Teutoberg says he won't be fooled by any such bunk as +that; he knows we are all pirates and he is going to have this ship +regardless of anything, since it belongs to his line. I've got to be +hurrying along. We're getting the big guns ready, the few that we have."</p> + +<p>Winford cautiously withdrew his head. His eyes were glowing. The whole +scheme was as plain as day now. Teutoberg knew as well as every informed +person in the Universe did that the <i>Golden Fleece</i> was in the hands of +the Interplanetary Council marines. That talk about being entitled to +the freighter because it was owned by his shipping line was so much +rubbish. He was protected by insurance. What he wanted was the insurance +and the ten million dollars' worth of iridium in the hold as well.</p> + +<p>Furthermore, he had intended to have it all along. It was part of his +diabolical scheme to put the shipment on an unprotected freighter. Then +he had chartered a liner privately for his venture in piracy. When the +liner was "lost" he was out searching for the <i>Golden Fleece</i> along the +lanes where it should have been had not he, Winford, and his companions +captured the craft and sent it hurtling out toward Ganymede. And now +Teutoberg had succeeded in trailing it down.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Winford surveyed the transom pessimistically. Impossible to get through +it. If only he had a ray pistol to dissolve the door lock.... The air +ventilator! He dropped down on hands and knees and peered under the +bunk. The opening seemed large enough to let his shoulders through. If +he should become fast in one of the turns of the tunnel it would be all +up with him. They'd probably find his body when the ship went into dock +for repairs. But this was no time to think of that.</p> + +<p>He crawled under the bunk, took out the grating and set it beside the +opening. Then he wormed his way into the tunnel. It was a tight fit, but +he could move. The first turn should bring him to the branch that opened +out on the passage not far from his stateroom door.</p> + +<p>Never would he forget that struggle when he forced his cramped, tortured +body round the bend in the blackness a fraction of an inch at a time and +crawled up the branch. If he was mistaken—but he wasn't. Presently he +was looking out of the grating into the passage.</p> + +<p>Members of the crew raced back and forth like disturbed ants. From the +snatches of conversation that reached him, Winford learned that +Teutoberg had succeeded in getting the range of the freighter and was +holding her helpless under the imposing muzzles of his heavy +disintegrator-ray guns.</p> + +<p>The door of the control opened and the boyish commander, his face pale +and drawn, thrust out his head.</p> + +<p>"They're coming aboard, men," he shouted to the group in the passage +below. "I can't stop them. Our only chance may come after they are +aboard."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you free the pirates and let them help us?" cried one of the +men.</p> + +<p>"Never," returned the young commander firmly. "They are in our care, and +by the gods, we are going to bring them and this ship through safe and +sound!"</p> + +<p>A moment later he descended the stairs and led his men aft.</p> + +<p>Teutoberg displayed a flash of generalship, for his first ten men who +came in through the air-lock were pistol experts. They rayed the marines +in their tracks and cleared the passage leading to the lock, before the +defenders could get organized. A few minutes later the invaders were +spreading through the ship, hunting down and ruthlessly slaying the +marines whom they outnumbered three to one. Scattered fights to the +death took place on all the decks. Winford, snugly ensconced in his air +tunnel, raged inwardly as the crackling of the rays and the agonized +screams of the wounded and dying came to his ears.</p> + +<p>The fighting seemed to be drawing nearer. He risked peeping out. The +young commander and half a dozen of his men covering themselves as best +they might with the inadequate protector shields of the service, +retreated to the foot of the stairs leading up to the control room. As +the invaders prepared to mow them down a sudden hush fell on the men and +the invaders parted. A huge man stepped out before them. Winford sucked +in his breath sharply as he recognized Teutoberg and saw him take a step +forward in the direction of the marines.</p> + +<p>Teutoberg raised his hand toward Commander 6666-A and spoke.</p> + +<p>"Will you surrender, or must my men obliterate you? I would say that you +pirates have your backs to the wall. Surely life is sweet. Why not +surrender while you still have it?"</p> + +<p>"We're not pirates!" declared the young commander hotly.</p> + +<p>Teutoberg sneered.</p> + +<p>"It will take more than a gold and gray uniform of the Interplanetary +Council military forces to convince me," he retorted. "Uniforms of any +kind can be obtained anywhere in the Universe where there happens to be +a competent tailor."</p> + +<p>"The only pirates, excepting yourselves, aboard this ship are under lock +and key," said the commander. "That's where you will be before this +matter is settled."</p> + +<p>Teutoberg laughed. His manner changed suddenly.</p> + +<p>"What a line of talk for a pirate," he commented affably. "Come, +youngster, there is no need to sacrifice lives uselessly. Surrender, +since you're outnumbered anyway, and let's discuss this thing on a sane +basis."</p> + +<p>Commander 6666-A hesitated. Winford could scarcely refrain from shouting +treachery. Then the marines lowered their shields and rays. Next instant +they went down under the charge of the invaders.</p> + +<p>The young commander was chalky white when they dragged him bound and +helpless to his feet. A trickle of blood made a crimson line from the +corner of his mouth, and his eyes sparkled with helpless rage.</p> + +<p>"You dirty snake!" he gasped. "You'll sniff gas for this!"</p> + +<p>Teutoberg laughed scornfully.</p> + +<p>"Take them back to the air-lock and shove them out naked one at a time," +he ordered curtly. "That's the way they would have treated us. Save the +young bantam for the last. Now, where is this Evan Winford? I have an +old score to settle with him."</p> + +<p>Up in his air tunnel Winford nodded grimly to himself. Teutoberg's words +only added to the proof that he knew all along that the <i>Golden Fleece</i> +was in the hands of the Interplanetary marines, for his request for +Winford revealed that he had been following the helio reports of the +capture of the ship by the marines and the stories being broadcast +throughout the Universe of how Winford and Jarl and their pirate +companions were being taken with the ship to Mars for piracy and +execution.</p> + +<p>Neither Commander 6666-A nor his men deigned to answer Teutoberg, but +one of his own men had already discovered that Winford was locked in his +own stateroom, and he promptly indicated the door.</p> + +<p>Teutoberg scowled, drew a pistol in either hand, and strode to the door. +One of the men unlocked it, and he kicked it open. He waited +expectantly, then advanced cautiously into the room. The sound of his +baffled curses filled the passage. Winford grinned mirthlessly.</p> + +<p>"Someone dies for this!" shouted Teutoberg, storming out into the +passage. "Where is he, I say? Bring me that Martian, Jarl! He'll know, +if anyone does. Bring him, I say, and I'll torture the truth out of his +big carcass!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Winford's grin vanished. His eyes grew anxious as he waited, tense and +breathless, until Jarl, with his big hands lashed together behind his +back, was brought up from the hold.</p> + +<p>"So we meet again, Jarl?" jeered Teutoberg, scowling blackly at him. +"Where is this master of yours, this Winford?"</p> + +<p>Jarl's eyes met Teutoberg's impassively. All too well he knew the innate +cruelty of this Earthman. Some explanation would have to be made to +satisfy him. Never a flicker of an eye-lash revealed what that +explanation would be, but Jarl glanced stoically at the empty stateroom.</p> + +<p>"He did it," he said calmly.</p> + +<p>"Did what, you clod?" Teutoberg flung at him savagely.</p> + +<p>"Ended his life as he swore he would."</p> + +<p>"Suicide? Impossible! Where is the body?"</p> + +<p>"He destroyed it together with his life by drinking disintegrator +concentrate. He carried a capsule of it when we escaped from Mercury, +and I've heard him swear time and again that he would die before he +would permit himself to be taken back."</p> + +<p>Teutoberg swallowed the story. There was nothing else to do, apparently. +He raved and cursed. Once he raised his pistol to Jarl's heart and +lowered it again.</p> + +<p>"You'll take his place, Martian dog!" he snarled. "By proxy I shall +treat him as he deserves, and you shall be the proxy. Back to the hold +with you for the present!"</p> + +<p>With that Teutoberg whirled about, strode up the stairs and vanished in +the control room.</p> + +<p>Commander 6666-A and his men were dragged aft to the air-lock, leaving +the passage near Winford temporarily empty. He broke out the grating and +wormed his way out of the air tunnel, dropping on the floor hands first. +He sprang to his feet, and started grimly up the steps to the control +room. Inside that room was Teutoberg, a bigger man than himself, and +armed, yet Winford, barehanded, cautiously opened the door and stepped +inside.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Teutoberg was standing at one side of the room gazing in rapt attention +at the slaughter of the helpless marines. One by one he watched them +emerge from the air-lock bloated and white in their nakedness with their +convulsed limbs already growing rigid in the icy cold of space. Out in +the open space between the two ships they hung motionless a few minutes, +then swiftly dissolved and vanished under the ray of a small +disintegrator gun on the liner.</p> + +<p>Teutoberg smiled crookedly.</p> + +<p>The door clicked behind him. Teutoberg turned with a startled oath. +Winford, foul with grime and his clothing torn to rags, stood there. +Teutoberg's eyes widened. Both hands leaped downward for the holstered +pistols in his belt. At that instant Winford lunged for him.</p> + +<p>One of Teutoberg's hands was now gripping a pistol. Winford struck +frenziedly, knocking it from Teutoberg's grasp. The weapon slid under +the chart table out of reach. Winford clutched Teutoberg's left hand +which held the still holstered pistol.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he saw an advantage, and his heart leaped in exultation. Round +behind Teutoberg he pivoted—a wrestling trick he had learned as a boy. +For an instant they stood back to back. Then with a mighty effort +Winford heaved upward relentlessly on his opponent's forearm.</p> + +<p>Teutoberg screamed in pain as something snapped in his wrist. The pistol +dropped from his nerveless fingers. Winford flicked it out of reach +under the table with his toe, but had no chance to reach for it, because +Teutoberg had managed to work himself free.</p> + +<p>With a bellow of animal rage and with arms flailing like wind-mills he +charged at Winford again. Winford met his rush with a rapid series of +blows and Teutoberg went down. But up he came, a wild light in his eyes. +Again he went down, only to struggle gamely to his feet once more.</p> + +<p>Winford was gasping for breath. It amazed him that Teutoberg could +endure so much punishment. His arm must be broken and he was terribly +battered, yet here he came staggering back for more. Winford now hunched +down and, like a crouching animal, advanced slowly toward his enemy. +Suddenly he started a right almost from the deck straight for +Teutoberg's chin. It connected. Teutoberg was lifted clear of the deck +and hurled unconscious against the side of the control room six feet +away.</p> + +<p>Winford staggered to the communication board and his trembling fingers +clutched the air-lock phone.</p> + +<p>"Hello, hello!" he gasped. "Teutoberg speaking. Send no more marines out +through the lock just now.... Yes, of course this is Teutoberg."</p> + +<p>He hung the instrument back on its hook and clung dizzily to the edge of +the table. At least the slaughter was halted for the time being.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He would have to act fast. He caught up the big water pitcher from the +holder on the wall where it had miraculously escaped the fight, gulped +deeply from it, and splattered water down his face and chest. Then he +picked up the two pistols from the deck, placed one in his belt and +gripped the other firmly as he approached the unconscious Teutoberg.</p> + +<p>At the first splash of water in his face Teutoberg groaned and rolled +over.</p> + +<p>"Get up, you," Winford ordered harshly.</p> + +<p>Teutoberg sat up groggily. The sight of the pistol and Winford's eyes +brought him out with a sudden shock.</p> + +<p>"Get over to that air-lock phone and say just what I tell you to," +ordered Winford grimly. "One false word, and I'll ray you plenty."</p> + +<p>Teutoberg staggered to his feet obediently and took the phone, for he +had read death in Winford's hard eyes.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Jarvis?" he asked, his body rigid under the prod of Winford's +pistol. "This is Teutoberg.... Yes, I talked a minute ago. I've changed +my plans, Jarvis. We've got to get the iridium out of the hold and into +the liner as soon as possible, or we'll be sighted by some other craft. +Take all the men but ten and go back to the liner. Make ready there for +the cargo.... You'll have to clear some cabins; there is more than I +thought. There isn't much food aboard here, anyway, and it is better to +let the men go to mess right away and start transferring the cargo +immediately afterward."</p> + +<p>Teutoberg hung up the phone.</p> + +<p>"Is that satisfactory?" he asked sullenly.</p> + +<p>"It will do," was Winford's terse reply. "Now when the men have gone +back to the liner, order two of the remainder to bring up Jarl from the +hold to the control room here."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Jarl was as impassive as usual when he entered the control room and +beheld Winford in charge there, although his two captors stared in +amazement at Teutoberg, bloody and battered, seated against the side of +the room with his hands upraised. Jarl calmly disarmed his two captors +and closed the door.</p> + +<p>"Only eight of Teutoberg's men besides these remain on the <i>Golden +Fleece</i>," Winford explained to Jarl. "Take care of them first, then +release the rest of our men from the hold. Tell Agar to take charge of +the machinery as soon as possible, and have the gunners stand by for +further orders."</p> + +<p>"Awah," replied Jarl stoically, and left the control room.</p> + +<p>He took care of the eight invaders in his very efficient Martian +fashion, for he pistoled them with neatness and dispatch where they +stood before the air-lock with the young commander and his remaining two +marines, waiting to thrust them out into space. Winford had not +instructed Jarl just how to take care of the situation, and the Martian +attended to it in his own way. Commander 6666-A, with his arms bound +behind his back, stared in amazement as Jarl calmly stepped over the +dead bodies and went on his way to release his fellow pirates from the +hold.</p> + +<p>Up in the control room the radio loud-speaker hummed to life.</p> + +<p>"Teutoberg, Teutoberg, are you there?" cried an anxious voice. "Three +Interplanetary battle spheres are approaching from the direction of the +Earth! They are still two thousand miles away, but they are coming on +fast! We're going to cut loose and run for it. If you're not back here +in five minutes, you'll have to stay where you are!"</p> + +<p>Winford cut in then for Teutoberg, who gulped painfully before speaking.</p> + +<p>"Go right ahead," he said in a strained voice. "I'm staying here on the +<i>Golden Fleece</i>. I'll—I'll see you later."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you say you'd meet them in the Hereafter?" suggested Winford +coldly, as he cut out the microphone. "That's where you are going as +soon as Jarl returns. He'll be glad to help you on your way, for he +hasn't forgotten the aid you gave his brother-in-law in robbing him and +sending him to Mercury."</p> + +<p>Teutoberg made no answer.</p> + +<p>Things were happening swiftly. Already the liner was lurching forward +frantically with every propulsion ray flaming as she started her flight +through space away from the avenging battle spheres. Red lights twinkled +on the control board of the <i>Golden Fleece</i>. Agar, at the generators +now, threw in the power. The big freighter leaped ahead like a +grayhound, soon reaching a speed that even the swift battle spheres +could not equal, thanks to the engineering genius of the half-insane +Agar.</p> + +<p>Winford glanced around. Teutoberg was already gone. Jarl had taken him +down to the air-lock. Winford tried to forget him. There were other +things to think of. There were the details of taking the <i>Golden Fleece</i> +out to Pluto near the frontiers of the Sun's domain—Pluto, that +stronghold of the space pirates where a man could sell an entire planet +or any part of it, no questions asked, if he could produce it for the +buccaneer kings to bid on. The freighter and its cargo were as good as +sold already, and the money they would bring would be more than enough +to buy pardons and freedom for everyone in the crew.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>There were many details to consider carefully, but instead Winford found +himself thinking of Teutoberg down by the air-lock, stripped of his +clothing, ready for his last adventure with life. As much as Winford +hated the man, he was forced into an unwilling admiration for his dogged +fight in the control room. A mere word in that telephone would save him. +Winford shook his head irritably. The man deserved death. Yet again he +saw the set features, the final walk into the air-lock. Suddenly Winford +found himself at the phone and heard himself giving the order that would +save Teutoberg's life. He sat down again, surprised at his own weakness. +He was still musing when Jarl entered.</p> + +<p>"You couldn't go through with it," observed the big Martian impassively. +"I was afraid you couldn't. It is as I have always said of you +Earthlings. You think you want revenge, good old ancient vengeance; but +when the moment comes and you sit in the high place and can have it, you +weaken. Well, you won't have to execute Teutoberg now."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" exclaimed Winford.</p> + +<p>"After I received your order and told Teutoberg he wasn't to go out +through the lock after all, he grinned. It was an insult, that grin, +just as though he knew all along you wouldn't have the nerve to kill +him. And while I stood there asking myself if I should not go ahead and +shove him out anyway, one of his men—one of the two we captured up here +in this room—caught sight of that grin. He screamed something about +treachery and Teutoberg betraying him to the pirates, and before I could +interfere he drew a knife and stabbed Teutoberg to death right there +before all of us. After that there was nothing to do but to heave his +body into the air-lock and let it go on out into space."</p> + +<p>Far back across the Void in a tiny space sphere which Winford had given +him and his two marines to return to the distant battle sphere, +Lieutenant Commander 6666-A saw through his telescope the white speck of +Teutoberg's body leave the side of the <i>Golden Fleece</i> and wondered what +it was.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Space Rover, by Edwin K. 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