Part 3

Mike had a high, squeaky voice. "Hah-hah, don't worry, chief. They'll be around."

"I don't find your humor amusing. So--Mike. Mike! Look...."

I let my voice trail off. If this wasn't so damned serious, it could have been amusing. I was really living the part.

Mike said: "God, chief, both of 'em. Shrivelled up like that, burned to a crisp. Chief--"

"What can you do? I told them not to play games with it until I came, and they just didn't know how to work the damper. Fools, they could have killed us all. Well, suppose we take care of those people in the domes."

"You mean like this, chief?"

"Certainly, like this. No one asked them to butt in here."

* * * * *

I didn't say anything else for a while. I could feel myself sweating under the helmet, and momentarily, at least, I had run out of things to say.

Someone else came to my rescue. For the first time, one of the other party attempted direct intercom communication.

"Hey you out there," a voice said. "This is Reardon, in charge of this outfit." He sounded afraid. "Lay off or we'll blast these two prisoners I got...."

"You're telling me to lay off?" I demanded, trying to think of something to say. "You're telling me to lay off? That's rich."

"What do you mean?" The voice was still frightened, and I began to feel a little better. They had fallen for this so far all the way.

"What do I care what you do to those two? They're a couple of homesteaders who happened to barge in here, an old man and a girl. Go ahead, kill 'em. What's the difference, you'll follow in a couple of minutes."

That got him. "Wait," he said. "Hold it, please."

I yawned, loud enough for the intercom to pick it up. I hoped I wasn't overdoing it. "Mike," I drawled, "set that thing up so we can finish the job and get out of here, eh? Now, be careful. Connect that dampening rig like that, that's it. Careful. Just make sure the pole fits into that hole real snug. There you are. You did it...."

"You _sure_ you wanta use this thing on them, chief?" I had Mike say.

"Why in hell not? Come on. Now!"

The voice over the intercom was almost a shriek. "Stop! For the love of heaven please stop! Cut it out, please. Don't roast us. We give up! We--"

I said, "Who cares if you give up or not? I just want to try out my weapon. No one asked you to poke your nose in here like this. You hear him, Mike? He gives up. That's funny."

Mike said, "It ain't so funny. If they give up, I say let 'em go. Hell, they won't give you any more trouble, chief."

The frightened voice was pleading now. "Listen to him, friend. Go ahead, listen. We give up, see? We're harmless. We'll go away. Anything. The weapon's all yours...."

"Well--"

"Go ahead, chief," Mike said.

"Umm-m. Well, okay. Hey you guys! All of you get into one dome, fast, and throw every gun you have outside. Your spacesuits, too. You'd better, because I don't exactly trust you. I'm going to give you five minutes and then I'm going to turn this thing on. Anyone has an ounce of iron or steel on him, he'll be broiled."

* * * * *

I waited, atop my pinnacle. I saw three figures running from the direction of our original dome, heading for the other one. In a moment, they disappeared over the close, jagged horizon. I said:

"That's about enough time, Mike. Turn it on."

I swaggered across the rubble-strewn asteroid. As I approached the dome I began to feel nervous, but I didn't stop my swaggering. Outside was a great pile of disintegrators, blasters, and heaters, plus a dozen spacesuits, assorted knives, pens, pencils, coins, pots, pans, flashlights, all sorts of tools--even a heap of leatheroid jumpers, because someone must have realized the stitching was of steelite fibre, which it was.

I picked up a couple of the heaters and tried the outer airlock door. It swung in easily.

I stood inside the dome with my two heaters and the reaction set in. I started to laugh. A dozen big strong men sat about, half naked and afraid in their underwear, and over in a corner stood Gramps and Clair, also down to their scanties.

The biggest of the twelve men said, "I'm Reardon. Thank you. Thank you, sir...."

"Shut up," I told him. I waved my heater and he shut up.

"We've had to do it, too," Clair said, running into my arms, pulling off my helmet and kissing me. I threw one of the heaters to Gramps, and Clair was speaking again, "I almost laughed and spoiled the whole thing, but Gramps and I took off our jumpers, too, to make it look good. In fact, Gramps gave them the idea."

Good old Gramps....

* * * * *

Gramps donned his spacesuit and so did Clair, and Reardon, still not comprehending, mumbled his thanks. I explored the inside of the dome thoroughly, making sure there were no hidden weapons. Then I stepped through the lock with Clair and Gramps, and I closed the outer door. I notched my heater to low intensity and fused the door and the dome into one piece. They'd need a heater or a disintegrator to get out, and they didn't have either.

Clair was smiling happily, now. But Gramps had a frown on his face.

"So what do we do with 'em?"

"Simple," I replied. "We wait for the government ship. It'll be here in a few weeks. They're not going anywhere in the meantime."

Gramps continued to frown. "You think we oughta report what they was lookin' for? The Ruskie weapon, I mean...."

I laughed. "That won't be necessary, Gramps. We'll do even better than that. We'll tell them what the weapon is."

Clair looked at me dumbfounded and I found myself grinning at both her and Gramps.

"Jerry! You can't be serious--we didn't really find the weapon!"

"We not only found it, we used it, hon," I told her. "I did some fast thinking while I was up on the rocks before. In a way I was in the same boat the Ruskies were when we beat them. I had to use desperate means--anything I could, and mainly something that would start fear, a panic...."

"But I don't see--" Clair was confused.

"The Ruskies had a powerful weapon, all right," I replied. "The only trouble was they used it too late. Fortunately for us we still had time--and our opponents weren't too bright mentally anyway. If they had been it might not have worked. Matter of fact, that's the big thing that licked the Ruskies. We were a bit too shrewd for them. Our military leaders saw right through their weapon."

Gramps stamped his foot angrily. "Now look here, Jerry! Stop ramblin' around like that! Just what weapon you talkin' about?"

"Propaganda, Gramps. Propaganda, the greatest weapon in the universe--if used right. Now what do you say we get down to work and mine some copper?"

We were all laughing as we made our way to the other dome.