Chapter 13
“The eighteen ships are adrift,” Richard said. “We can’t lose them. But if this asteroid is maneuverable, as it must be, Zimbardo can speed up, slow down, or change course and avoid our attack. He can disappear.”
Richard’s body tensed and he raised his voice. “How did he know about the probes?!” he exclaimed, with exasperation.
“The spy,” responded John Rwakatare.
* * * * *
Aboard the pirates’ asteroid, power was returning. An emergency backup system had kicked in, causing the lights to flicker back on and the atmosphere recycler to hum quietly back into efficiency. With covert glances back at Zimbardo, the men returned to their stations.
Zimbardo barked out a command.
“Status report!”
“Right away, sir,” said Gene, taking his own seat. He attended to various dials and incoming signals.
Zimbardo stood up and walked over to the great window that overlooked the huge rocket pad outside. There were seven ships left--six belonging to the independent smugglers, Jeff Jenner, Lorry, and Captain Kimball, and his own personal ship, the _Tartarus_. Even the _Silver Spear_ had been taken by Lorry. The asteroid was nearly empty of men; only his support crew, the smugglers and their crews, and a few others remained.
“Sir,” spoke up Gene. His voice trembled. He spoke as one apologizing. “Mr. Zimbardo. Mr. Lather sent in a frantic message that all eighteen ships were under attack. The transmission was cut off in mid-sentence. I scanned their location, sir, and detected three large Space Command ships approaching our convoy. They are about to be captured, sir.”
Zimbardo turned slowly and looked at Gene without a change in expression. “And?” he said. “There’s more, I can tell. And...”
“And there is a large fleet of ships belonging to Space Command and Starlight Enterprise converging on our location. In less than three hours, fourteen ships will be arriving within minutes of each other. Approximately the same number again will join them over the next twenty-four hour period.” Gene hesitated, then decided to deliver the last sentence. “Even if we are sheathed, sir, with that many ships so close, they will be able to find us before long.”
Lurton Zimbardo turned his eyes obliquely to the floor and joined his hands behind his back. He rocked for a moment on his feet, almost as if pondering a challenging philosophical question.
“I see,” he said at last. He walked quietly over to his console, sat for a moment without moving, then began to move dials and enter numbers into the navigational program. He consulted various tables of information and referred to a number of measuring devices whose sensitive detectors were on the surface of the asteroid.
Minutes passed. Zimbardo grew increasingly agitated as he worked. His men had stopped their own work and watched him. Where his hands had begun to move gently and carefully, they began to exhibit higher and higher degrees of animation. Soon he was pressing his keyboard vehemently and muttering under his breath. Once in a while he chortled.
Finally he shouted, “Hah! That will do it! I won’t be outsmarted!” He pressed the “Enter” button and then roared, “Yes! I win!” He leaped from his chair and lifted up both arms. “I win!” he screamed.
As the program Zimbardo had activated was engaged, the power it required began draining the emergency resources of the asteroid. The lights dimmed and the usual hum of the atmosphere recycler began to stutter.
“What did you do?” Gene asked with trepidation. “Even the backup power system is being strained.”
“Just keeping a promise,” said Zimbardo jovially. “I told Earth I had sent them an asteroid. I wasn’t very truthful at the time, I’m afraid. But now I have kept my promise. I have redirected the asteroid so that it will collide with the planet! --and I’ve pushed the acceleration up to full!”
A soul-wrenching moan escaped from Gene’s lips. He stumbled over to his chair and collapsed into it. He stared ahead, seeing nothing. The other men were frozen in their places.
Zimbardo strolled over to the wall-screen that provided a map of the Inner Planetary system and indicated their position. With the power drain, the images were going in and out of focus and numbers were fading from the screen.
“Hmm. About ten days to impact,” he muttered. “Can’t tell for sure with the images fading like this, but no matter. By that time we’ll be long gone.”
A few minutes later the insides of the complex began to screech as they had before. The screech did not rise in intensity but gradually turned into a groan. The light slowly faded and then went out completely.
“The power is out for good now!” Gene wailed. “and we’re prisoners on the asteroid! Now it’s a runaway! We can’t stop it!”
“Why would we want to stop it? We’ll take the _Tartarus_ and leave to fight again another day! Pack up, get the men, and let’s go. We’ve got less than three hours, I think you said.”
Panicked, Gene fled from the room, feeling his way desperately through the darkness. “I’ve got to warn Kimball, Lorry, and Jenner! We’ve got to escape!” Fear unlike anything he had ever experienced or imagined filled his entire being.
19: Change of Guard
GENE FLEW down the corridor with his arms outstretched, not knowing exactly where he was going and not caring, as long as it was away from the control deck. He was breathing hard and fast, on the verge of hysteria. Realizing that he was in danger of losing his grip, he paused to catch his breath, and leaned against the wall.
A moment later he saw moving lights in the stairwell a long way ahead. In the growing gray illumination, he dashed forward and saw Kimball, Lorry, and Jenner coming up, carrying flashlights. When Kimball saw Gene hurrying toward him, he flashed the light directly into his eyes and roared, “What in blazes is going on in this place?”
Gene threw his hands up over his eyes, but continued to stumble forward. “You’ve got to get out of here,” he choked out. “Get your men, get your ships, go!”
Jenner put a firm hand on Gene’s shoulder, and Kimball lowered the light. “What’s going on? Where’s Zimbardo?” Jenner’s voice was a little quieter than Kimball’s but just as demanding.
Gene gulped and looked up. “He--, he’s aimed the asteroid at Earth! It’s on a collision course! He burned out all the power--_all_ the power! He can’t stop it! He doesn’t _want_ to stop it!”
There was a stunned silence. Jenner, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, finally blurted out, “Why did he do that?”
“All the men in the fleets have been captured! We’re the only ones left, and Space Command will be boarding us in less than three hours!”
The three smugglers gasped in dismay. Jenner pushed Gene away and the three of them shot back down the stairwell. When they reached the lower level, Gene heard them shouting for their men. The light gradually diminished until Gene was once again in complete darkness.
“Gene! Gene! Where are you?” came the voice of Lurton Zimbardo from far behind him. Startled, Gene quickly whirled and peered into the darkness. From far away came a sound as of scurrying feet. There were men coming--the men from the control center, with Zimbardo. Gene spun again and ran for his own room. He had decided what he was going to do. Frantically he rummaged through his belongings until he found his own flashlight. Without turning it on yet, he ran from the room and hastened farther away from the control center.
“Gene? Gene! Is that you?” came the voice of Lurton Zimbardo. Gene inhaled quickly and looked back. There was still no light. He hesitated for a moment, then answered,
“Yes, it’s me.” His voice was squeaky.
“Where are you?” echoed down the corridor.
“I’m not going with you! Go on without me!”
“What?” Zimbardo’s voice had a note of complete incredulity in it. “Why not? Hurry up, Gene! We have to go! I don’t want Space Command on my tail!”
“_I’m not going!_” Gene shouted. He turned and fled. He sped down the corridor as fast as he could go, came to its end, turned the corner, and kept going. In less than a minute he was many turns and twists away from the main level. He switched on his light, put it on its lowest setting, and slowed down to a walk. “He won’t wait for me! He won’t look for me! He’ll want to go! Soon he’ll be gone and I’ll be safe!” These thoughts came through Gene’s mind almost like a flow of clear water.
He came to a storeroom, pushed the door open, and flashed his light around. The room was crammed with stacks of boxes and various other items. Seeing there was no one else inside, he shut the door, crawled under a cabinet, and turned off his light.
After a short while, he felt the floor tremble slightly. He knew that a spaceship had lifted off. It was followed quickly by five others. “The smugglers are gone,” he thought. “Just one more now. If I hear one more, I’ll know that he’s gone.” He waited, desperately hoping he wouldn’t hear the sound of the door opening.
* * * * *
After they left Gene, the smugglers Kimball, Lorry, and Jenner quickly gathered together their men and supplies and headed for the airlock to the launching pad. There were thirty-seven men altogether. All had their spacesuits on and most of them carried lights.
“How are we going to get out of here?” asked one of the men as they approached the airlock. “The airlock won’t open. Nothing’s working.”
“Portable power pack,” said Kimball. He took a small box from another man, set it down by the airlock, and in seconds had established a makeshift connection. The airlock opened. In that fashion, the men boarded their ships without delay.
Kimball lifted off first and entered the vast, stone tunnel that led to the outside. As soon as the enormous airlock became visible down the shaft, he fired a laser cannon at it. Unable to resist an attack from within, the great door, thousands of years old, shattered into fragments. The atmosphere of the launching pad rushed out, hurling the shards of the airlock door into space. Kimball’s ship then came through the tunnel and exited, followed in short order by the five other ships. They set a course for the Asteroid Belt and at top acceleration left the pirates’ asteroid behind them.
* * * * *
After Gene had fled out of earshot, Zimbardo turned to the few men who were behind him. “I’m lifting off in the _Tartarus_ in ten minutes. It’s the only ship left on the asteroid. Meet me at the great doors. Tell everyone else you see.” He swiveled and walked to the stairwell to go up to his own rooms.
None of the men said anything to each other, but scattered, each going to his own quarters.
Ten minutes later, arrayed in his spacesuit and carrying a few items, Lurton Zimbardo stood at the great doors. Behind him was the asteroid complex. In front was the manufacturing center and beyond that was the launching pad where the _Tartarus_ stood in solitary splendor. Only five men had joined the pirate leader.
“So,” said Zimbardo. “Only five of you. Five men left. Who are you?” He lifted his light a little so he could see their faces. “Ah, Mr. Gebbeth. I said before that I knew I could depend on you. I’ve always known it. You are the pilot. And Mr. Slant. Mr. Stagnum. Mr. Withers. And Mr. Poppy. No one else. Well, then, there are six of us altogether. Let us go.”
There was almost no talking. Each man seemed to know what to do without being told. They opened the airlocks to pass through the manufacturing center, and then into the airless launching pad. Without haste but without unnecessary delay, they entered the _Tartarus_, a gleaming silver and red ship that could support a crew of eighteen.
The six men strapped themselves into acceleration couches with Gebbeth in the pilot’s position. “Take us out, Mr. Gebbeth,” said Zimbardo. “I will tell you where to go when we are free.”
“Yes sir,” said Gebbeth, and initiated the launching sequence. In a short time, Lurton Zimbardo’s spacecraft had left the asteroid.
“Top speed, Mr. Gebbeth,” said Zimbardo. “Make sure the sheathing equipment is functioning. Head away from the sun.”
“Of course, sir.”
* * * * *
When Zimbardo burned out the asteroid’s power, much of the energy needed to power its sheathing apparatus disappeared. The sheathing plates then only received power through the solar energy panels, and they did not provide enough energy to hide the asteroid completely. It appeared on radar as a faint blip, allowing the Earth ships to locate it without difficulty. About two hours after Zimbardo’s departure, the fleet command ship _Tempest_ came upon the asteroid. It was the first of fourteen ships from both Space Command and Starlight Enterprise that were expected to arrive within the hour.
The _Tempest_ maneuvered carefully through the gaping orifice left when Kimball’s ship had blown the massive airlock, and set down inside the airless docking arena of the asteroid. Captain Mary Marks-Owens descended the ladder first, followed by several members of the crew. All were armed. Only the lights of the spaceship lit up the cavernous hall of shadows.
“Eerie,” observed Captain Marks-Owens as she set foot on the pavement. “Follow me. We’ll see if the place is as abandoned as it looks.” Nine space-suited figures fell in behind her as she approached the airlock into the manufacturing area. When she was unable to open it, she called for a portable power supply. Two additional men brought one from the ship, opened the airlock, and allowed the landing party to enter the complex. Once inside, the members of the crew were able to dispense with their helmets.
Slowly and carefully they made their way through the blackness, pushing it back with the radiance of the lights they carried. They were in awe of the huge, obviously alien place.
“The place feels almost haunted,” observed one man in a quiet voice.
“Somewhat,” agreed the Captain, “but there’s more to it than that. There’s something deeper. I don’t think this is an evil place. It is a place that needs to be cleansed.”
The party passed through the great doors. Before they had crossed the courtyard a man emerged from the far side, carrying a light. The members of the landing party quickly spread out, and the Captain ordered, “Halt!”
“Don’t shoot!” came the voice from behind the tiny light across the room. “I’m unarmed. I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Gene Newman. I was the control officer for Lurton Zimbardo. He’s gone.”
“Come forward slowly, hands up.” Gene walked forward cautiously with his hands extended over his head, holding his light in one hand. When he was a few yards away, Captain Marks-Owens ordered him to stop and directed two men to search him. When it was definite that he was unarmed, she called him to approach her.
“What’s been going on here?” she asked.
Gene explained that Zimbardo had aimed the asteroid at Earth, burned out the power system, and fled two hours earlier. The Captain’s face paled as he told the story.
“Radio the ships that are still en route and have them check the course of this rock,” she ordered one of the men, who put on his helmet and contacted the ship. “And tell Mr. Madera to come here at once.” The order was given.
While they were waiting for Mr. Madera, Captain Marks-Owens quizzed Gene further. “Why did you stay behind?”
“I--, I joined Putnam’s organization because it seemed a sure thing. He was captured, but Zimbardo took over and made it seem an even better proposition. But I could see him getting crazier and crazier! I’m not ashamed to say that he began to frighten me--and he frightened others, too! And when he aimed the asteroid toward Earth...” Gene’s eyes widened and he began to tremble, “I knew there was something seriously wrong with him! I had to get away! I wanted to fix things--if I could!”
“Are there any others here?”
“I don’t know. There may be. I haven’t seen anyone else. Apart from Zimbardo and the smugglers, there were seventeen men left on the asteroid. I don’t know how many went with him. There were also some prisoners--three Starmen and some asteroid miners, but they escaped from the room where they were being held and disappeared into the depths of the asteroid. I don’t know where they are now. We never saw a trace of them after that.”
“They escaped from the asteroid three weeks ago. In fact, we expect them to arrive here soon in their own ship.”
Gene’s face showed out-and-out surprise at this news. “They _escaped_? They got off the asteroid? How did they do that?”
At this point, they were joined by the young man for whom the Captain had asked. He was about thirty years old, with a full crown of thick brown hair and deep brown eyes. This was Jesus Madera-Cruz, Chief Ioneer for Starlight Enterprise. He was adept with engines and micro-electronics. Noted for a placid nature, nothing ever seemed to bother him, and his expertise in power systems had never failed the trust which Richard Starlight had placed in him.
“You asked for me, Captain?” he asked.
“Yes, Mr. Madera. We need your skills urgently. This is Gene, one of Zimbardo’s men. Zimbardo has been gone for two hours. Gene tells us that before he fled he burned out the power. Before the power went out, he also redirected the asteroid on a collision course with Earth. I’ve asked our ships outside to confirm that. In the meantime, I’d like you to check out the power system and see if you can bring it back up. Obviously, if what Gene says is true, this is a matter of extreme urgency, not just convenience.”
“Yes, ma’am,” answered the man with a brief nod. The Captain detailed several men to go with Gene and Madera to wherever Zimbardo’s former chief control officer wanted to take them. Gene took them first to the control deck.
Captain Marks-Owens detailed the rest of her men to search the complex in pairs. As other ships landed, minutes apart from each other, she directed their crews to the search. After an hour, ten other pirates had been located. All had been eager to turn themselves in. They were taken into captivity and led to one of the Space Command ships where they were fed and kept under guard.
Soon there were over a hundred men searching the facility. Operations officers began connecting portable power systems to various parts of the complex to reestablish the lights and get the airlocks working again. The atmosphere recycling system was not yet accessible, but the air would last for a long time.
An ensign brought a report to Captain Marks-Owens during the search, confirming Gene’s account that the asteroid was on a collision course with Earth.
“Details?” asked the Captain.
“The asteroid will collide with Earth in approximately eight days, at a speed of nearly 300,000 miles per hour,” responded the ensign. “It was vastly accelerated for a few minutes before the power burned out, and the sun’s gravity continues to increase the rate of acceleration. We have not yet determined precisely where it will strike, but we are forwarding the data to SE and that will be determined.”
At that point, Gene and Madera came up to Marks-Owens.
“Captain,” said Madera. “I have made a preliminary examination of the control system. Gene has been more than cooperative, I am happy to say. With his help, just by looking at the controls and hearing him describe what Zimbardo did, I can conjecture what kind of power we’re dealing with. If we can get the power back on, we should not have any difficulty in changing the course of the asteroid. Restoring the power, however, will not be easy. Gene has never been to the power plant. In fact, it seems that no one has, even including Zimbardo. No one knows where it is or how to learn its location.”
“Go back to the _Tempest_ and contact George St. George and the Starmen. St. George is on Ceres and the Starmen are in the _Star Ranger_ on their way here. These men have been inside the power plant and know how to find it.”
“Yes ma’am.” Madera bowed his head slightly and turned toward the airlock that led out to the launching pad. He showed no signs whatever of being ruffled. In sharp contrast, Gene was visibly anxious.
“Gene,” said Captain Marks-Owens; “you’ve apparently been eager to cooperate. Mr. Madera is easy to get along with but hard to please. If he commends you, I am satisfied that you are not a threat to us. You go on to the _Tempest_ also and get some food and some rest, as you need. We can’t do more until we hear from the Starmen or St. George. We’ll want you later, and you’ll need to be rested.”
“Yes ma’am,” said the distraught man. He turned toward the SE flagship, swallowed hard, and stepped toward the airlock. He ran to catch up to Madera.
Captain Marks-Owens watched them for a moment, then turned her attention back to the activity of the men who were supplying the temporary power to the complex before her. The grandeur of the view impressed her.
“This place that seemed so menacing when we first landed is beginning to look a little less threatening now,” she thought. “Hard to believe we are aboard a runaway asteroid that will destroy Earth in eight days, unless we can turn it aside somehow.”
20: Desperation
THE STAR RANGER sped through space toward its rendezvous point with the racing asteroid. Given the urgency of the situation, Zip had ordered the maximum acceleration that their bodies could tolerate. Mark had programmed their course to bring them as quickly as possible up to boarding speed with the asteroid. Having done that, he pored through the printed material he had taken from the asteroid’s power plant. He felt hopelessness creeping over him since he didn’t know what Zimbardo had done to burn it out.
Zip came over and stood near where Mark was seated with a dim lamp illuminating the papers in front of him. The lamp was designed to burn with a soft light tinged with the faintest trace of light green, to be easiest on the eyes. It was devised for periods of long study.
“Anything yet, Mark?” Zip asked, knowing that the question was pointless. If Mark had found even a tiny piece of information which could be remotely connected to the situation on the asteroid, he would have spoken up.
“No, Zip,” replied Mark. “I can follow the diagrams pretty well now, and I think I understand how one part connects to another, but I can’t envision how any part of it could have burned out. I’ve tried to calculate how much power Zimbardo would have needed to generate the EMP of the size he did, but I can only guess at it. Even at my highest estimates, I can’t see how it would burn out the power supplies of a huge iron asteroid that can be used as a spacecraft. All I can imagine is that much of the power supply of the asteroid had been shut down before.”
“You mean that its reserves were not in place?”
“Something like that. We have guessed that the asteroid was a huge spacecraft. We also know that it had been stationary and abandoned--or at least unused--for eons. I suspect that the asteroid’s full power had never been accessible to Zimbardo. He was able to operate life-support systems, lights, airlocks, and so forth in his own section without drawing much power. When he tried to ‘power up’ the asteroid and move it out of orbit, he reached the limit of its available power. Then he suddenly initiated the electromagnetic pulse to fry the microwave probes, but he also fried his own system. But the asteroid _must_ have more power than that to be able to do what it must have done in the past. You saw the power plant as well as I did! Did it look to you as if Zimbardo could have burned that whole thing out with one EMP, no matter how intense?”
“Makes sense, Mark. Where, then, is the rest of the power?”
Mark looked up at Zip with a wan smile. “If you want to find it, you can help me look through these papers, if you want.”
“All right, I will,” said Zip, and sat down. Mark handed him a stack of paper, showed Zip what to look for, and went back to his own study.