Chapter 3

Yellow City was a well planned settlement, in spite of having been developed jointly by several different mining companies. Although the competition was fierce for the rich minerals of the Belt, cooperation was necessary to build the city, especially in the earliest years of settlement. The result was beneficial to all, as Yellow City could easily supply the needs of miners of all kinds as well as serve the traffic to the Outer Planets that almost always came by way of Ceres. Advancements in propulsion systems were making it possible for some of the newer ships to bypass Yellow City on their way to Jupiter and beyond, but Ceres was still a major stopping point.

Zip spoke quietly to Mark. “Mark, please let them know that we would like to land.”

Mark opened the microphone. “Starman Mark Seaton on the starship Star Ranger requesting permission to land.”

The response was immediate. “Yes sir, Starman! Ceres is proud to welcome you!” The operator went on to give directions for landing.

“Why is he so deferential?” queried Mark after communications had been completed.

“We’re famous!” responded Zip. “We’ve been aboard ship since the end of the attempted takeover on Mars and haven’t kept up with the news, but we’ve become household names. Oritz Konig told me that just as we were leaving the Base. We’re the men who liberated Mars! The people in the Belt are especially pleased since the pirates had planned to blockade them once they had a strong hold on Eagle City. Why, you couldn’t find another place in the Solar System that’d be happier to see us than Yellow City!”

The _Star Ranger_ was given priority docking. Once its engines were shut down, a large crew ran to secure it and welcome the Starmen. As Zip, Mark, and Joe descended the ladder, eager hands reached up to help them down the last two or three rungs. Through the bubble helmets on their suits, the mechanics and service personnel were all smiles.

When Zip inquired about the offices of Starlight Enterprise, the Starmen were ushered to a small moonbus and driven directly to the site. The complex was a small two-story building set in a row of offices, workshops, and garages not far from the landing field. All buildings on Ceres were made of the gray rock native to the asteroid. Building material was cheap and solid, but plain.

Although the city itself was covered with an atmosphere dome, the SE office was located close to the landing field, not within the city proper. Entrance was through an airlock. Once through the airlock, the Starmen removed their helmets and placed them on the rack.

“Whoopee! This is fun, being famous!” exclaimed Joe, his eyes alight. “I hope it lasts until we get back to the Earth-Moon system! I’d like to enjoy it!”

“I hope so, too, for all our sakes. Your exploits have given _all_ the Starmen a good name!” Joe whirled.

“Kathryn Mullaney!” cried Joe. Mark and Zip smiled widely.

“What are you doing on Ceres, Kathryn?” asked Zip. “I haven’t seen you since your last visit to the Academy at the beginning of our senior year.” Kathryn Mullaney had graduated from Starlight Academy a year before Zip and his partners; her first assignment as a Starman was in the Outer Planets. She was twenty years old, wore her strawberry blond hair short, and had a few freckles spangled across her nose below blue eyes which had a touch of green in them.

“Finished my assignment on Ganymede and I’m coming back home for a leave which I hope will be very long! I spent eight months in the smallest population center in the Solar System, and can’t wait to get back where there are crowds of people! I’m just staying here long enough for a quick once-over on my ship, refueling, and then I’m Earth-bound. In fact, I’m on my way out now.”

There was a little more pleasant conversation, then Kathryn said, “I’ve got to be going, and Sim is waiting for you upstairs. Good luck!”

Zip, Mark, and Joe ascended the stairs and came to the landing. The stairway and corridors were very plain. There was no unnecessary ornamentation of any kind, and lighting was minimal. They found a door with a sign on it that read STARLIGHT ENTERPRISE in bold letters. A second line provided the name of SE’s resident operations officer on Ceres: “Sim Sala Bim.” Joe knocked.

“Come in,” said a voice. The Starmen entered the door. The occupant, a tall, slender man of Indian extraction with black thinning hair, was already coming toward the door to welcome his visitors. “Welcome! So glad to see you! Welcome, please come in!” He ushered them into the room.

“Nice to see you again, Sim,” greeted Zip. They sat down in a circle of chairs, Sim sitting near a table on which were placed all the makings necessary for tea. There were already two cups set out, which had been used recently. Sim took one for himself and set the other aside. “This was Kathryn’s,” he said as he produced three new cups for his visitors. “You probably passed her on your way in.”

The conversation continued as Sim poured the tea from a very large brown earthenware teapot. Before long, Zip brought up the subject of their visit.

“I wish we had more time to visit, Sim, but our assignment is extremely urgent. We must find George St. George as fast as possible, and Oritz has told us that only a miner named Montezuma Vly can tell us where he is. We’re on our way to Montezuma’s Castle.”

“Ah, yes,” said Sim Sala Bim, “Sabbath George. He is well known here, but we haven’t seen him in almost a year, I think. Almost a year.”

“Sabbath George?” asked Mark.

“George St. George is a devout man--genial, generous, liked and respected by everyone. Honest to a fault. He’s called Sabbath George because of his beliefs. The nickname is intended to kid him a little bit, but is really meant as a term of respect and affection. But to find him in short order, you will indeed have to go through Montezuma Vly. Montezuma’s Castle is not hard to find, but getting in will be difficult.”

“We are familiar with Mr. Vly’s convictions and we wouldn’t bother him if there were any other way to find St. George. Given the time constraints, we have no choice.”

Sim nodded. “Montezuma’s Castle is easily recognizable by its unusual shape. It is a true crescent, a sliver of stone with Vly’s operation in its very center.” Sim went on to provide its coordinates and other information the Starmen would need to find it.

Zip continued. “On this assignment secrecy is of the utmost importance. It is vital that no one knows who we are or what we’re doing. We obviously can’t take the _Star Ranger_, as the news media have made that ship easily recognizable. We learned that when we landed on Ceres. I think we’re going to need to use another ship.”

With Sim, the Starmen made plans to leave the _Star Ranger_ on Ceres while the Starmen, dressed in ordinary clothes, quietly departed for Montezuma’s Castle in another ship.

“I’ll let you have the _Vigilant Warrior_,” said Sim. “It’s a local ship, designed for operating in the Asteroid Belt. We own it, but it hasn’t been used in a while and probably no one will recognize it as an SE ship. It’s the best I can do on short notice, but it should serve you well.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, if you say so,” answered Zip.

Sim Sala Bim got right to work, and the _Vigilant Warrior_ was ready for takeoff within two hours. As soon as it was ready, the Starmen lifted off from Yellow City. As Joe piloted the ship into the heart of the Belt, Zip looked back for a brief, wistful moment and saw the unusual dark red color of the _Star Ranger_, his ship, on the field of Yellow City.

* * * * *

“That’s it,” said Mark, as the navigation equipment locked onto the asteroid that was the home of the elusive Montezuma Vly.

“Hmmm. No wonder it’s so hard to find,” observed Zip, looking over Mark’s shoulder for a moment. “Not far from major travelways but so unobtrusive you’d never notice it.”

“It just hovers almost in the shadow of that large, worthless chunk here. Should be able to see it out the window before too long.”

Joe was busy threading the _Vigilant Warrior_ through the asteroids for the next few minutes. He kept the ship at a moderate pace and passed easily around the slowly turning asteroids. They were all moving at about the same speed and maneuvering was not difficult.

“Should be coming up on it about now,” offered Mark.

“There it is,” said Zip almost immediately. The _Vigilant Warrior_ had eased its way around an oblong worldlet--the “large, worthless chunk” that Mark had just mentioned--bringing into view a crescent-shaped, stony asteroid about a mile long. It looked almost like a fat banana with the ends tapering into sharp points.

“Montezuma’s Castle,” breathed Zip. “Kind of looks like a moon for that large asteroid.”

“I think it is,” answered Mark. “It rotates around the larger chunk and the two make almost a helix pattern in their journey through the Belt. They were probably a single asteroid at one time. One powerful impact must have split them, but the pieces haven’t drifted far apart.”

“Well, let’s get down there. There’s no mistaking the shape of the ‘Castle.’ Whatever odd shapes you can find in the Belt, that’s got to be unique.” The Starman brought the _Vigilant Warrior_ slowly into the proximity of Montezuma Vly’s refuge. “See if you can raise him, Mark.”

Mark Seaton flipped on the communicator.

“Starman Mark Seaton on the starship _Vigilant Warrior_ calling Montezuma Vly on the Castle, requesting permission to land.” His voice was smooth, intimate, and confident. There was no response. A minute later, Mark repeated the message. The metallic voice of an automatic response system came on.

“This asteroid is private property and visitors are not welcome.”

“We understand that, sir,” Mark replied, “and we would not request permission to land if it were not a matter of urgent business of personal concern.” A human voice came on.

“Yeah, like I haven’t heard _that_ one before! I don’t want visitors! If I wanted a social calendar, I’d go live in a big population center like Ganymede. Keep going! Next services are 3,000 miles away.”

“Mr. Vly, this is Starman David Foster, Commander of the Starlight Enterprise ship _Vigilant Warrior_,” Zip broke in. “We understand and respect your reluctance to receive visitors and will stay no longer than necessary. We are calling on you because your friend George St. George has information we need which is vital to the safety of all the settlements on Mars and even the Earth-Moon system. We also believe it possible that he is in danger from violent men.”

“Well, _that’s_ a new one. George in danger? What about it?”

“May we land, Mr. Vly? I don’t want to take the slightest risk that our conversation can be overheard. We won’t stay any longer than necessary.”

“You’ve found me. May as well come in and state your business.” The communicator was shut off from Vly’s end.

Zip came up on the Castle. It didn’t take long to find the landing site. There were two spacecraft in position in about the middle of the asteroid. One was a small ship suitable for local jaunts, and the other was a normal-sized craft capable of interplanetary travel. The name _Sentinel_ was painted on the side of the larger craft. Both were very old and in places a little battered, but were clearly cared about and well kept up.

The _Vigilant Warrior_ touched down about fifty yards from the closest of Vly’s craft. Joe shut off the engines and pressed the security button. A slight shudder ran through the ship as bolts shot from the fins, securing the ship to the surface. The Starmen disembarked and descended the ladder.

“Over there,” pointed Joe. The entrance to the airlock was discernible across the tiny landing area. The Starmen began walking toward it. The starfield swept away to right and left, with a couple of nearby asteroids visible to the eye. A great horn of stone rose up before them, sweeping to a point above. Behind them a similar horn curved up in the opposite direction.

The ground was uneven, with contours sharply defined. Jagged, broken rock comprised most of the terrain, with a few smooth ripples which rose about twenty or thirty feet from the plain. Shadows were utterly dark in the vacuum of space. The Starmen wore asteroid shoes, designed for walking in low gravity conditions. Their soles had an automatic “smart grip” function that gripped the ground when weight was placed on them, but released when the walker took another step. Without the asteroid shoes, the minimal gravity of “Montezuma’s Castle” would have made walking a difficult, even dangerous, task.

The Starmen saw that the airlock was set into the side of a hill. The hill had been artificially cut away in front of the door. As Zip, Mark, and Joe approached the airlock, the outer door opened. When they had passed through, it shut behind them. Joe kept watch on the instruments as air filled the compartment. When the atmosphere had become normal, he removed his helmet, and Zip and Mark followed suit. They opened the second door and passed through. A dimly-lit stairway led down in front of them. About twenty-five steps brought them to the beginning of a short passageway. At the end was another door. It was solid.

Zip approached the door and paused. He turned his head to the other two, lifted his eyebrows and shrugged. Mark and Joe nodded. Zip knocked. The door was opened almost immediately.

A good-looking, clean-shaven man with dark brown wavy hair looked them over once quickly, then stepped aside. “Come in,” he said, waving a hand while the other held the door. “I’m Montezuma Vly.” He had powerful hands, obviously used to hard labor. His nails had grit under them. Strong as the hands were, they were also clearly the hands of an artist, capable of fine work. He shook hands with the Starmen as they entered.

“Wow!” said Joe, the last to enter. Vly shut the door. The three Starmen gazed about them. They were standing in a small room packed with machinery--old-fashioned machinery used for rock cutting, polishing stones, and mounting specimens. The heady smell of machine oil hung in the air, not heavy like that of an aircraft hangar but attractive and energizing, almost like a perfume.

The machinery was made of cast iron, with wheels and gears, rods and chains visible inside the cases. Mark noted that each machine looked lovingly maintained. The newest machine must have been at least fifty years old, but all were in top quality condition.

“They’re made to be used,” explained Vly, discerning their thoughts. “You can’t get better machines than these today. The new stuff doesn’t last and can’t be depended on.”

Mark, the engine master of the trio, immediately thought of the precision instruments produced by Starlight Enterprise. He opened his mouth, but said nothing. He knew that SE made quality machinery, but little of it was iron. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself by talking about something of which he knew little. Instead he smiled and decided to take a closer look.

He leaned over the closest apparatus. His mild skepticism quickly turned to awe. “My goodness, Mr. Vly! This is incredible! These machines are beautiful!” Vly didn’t smile, but his face softened a little.

Joe and Zip were looking around the room. On two walls were hung various hand tools. Several shelves held cans of oil and paint, boxes of supplies, and dozens of samples of minerals and crystals. The other two walls were lined with books, half of them behind glass.

Zip turned his head to the side to read the titles of some of the books. He saw _The Complete Works of William Shakespeare_; _Kon Tiki_ by Thor Heyerdahl; _Homer’s Odyssey_; and several advanced textbooks on mineralogy, metallurgy, engineering, and electronics. Zip’s eyebrows lifted. He was impressed.

Mark was looking at the books on the other wall. _Basic Watercolor_, he read. _The Stories of Edgar Allen Poe_ was next to _The Life of Johann Sebastian Bach_. Mark whistled. “Not what I expected, Mr. Vly,” he said. “Not at all what I expected.”

“Uh huh,” murmured Montezuma Vly. “Let’s get down to business. Follow me.” He squeezed past Zip in the crowded little workplace, passed through a narrow door on the other side of the room, and through a passageway. The Starmen followed.

A small furry shape leaped through the air in front of Joe. “Ack!” exclaimed the lanky Starman, stumbling backward, knocking over a couple of small boxes as his arms flailed. Nuts and bolts scattered on the floor. Joe backed into another box and sat down hard on it.

“What--?” exclaimed Vly, turning.

“What was that?” cried Joe. “Something jumped across the corridor. I think it went into this recess here.” He pointed to an opening between a few stacked boxes.

“One of my koalangs,” answered Montezuma. “I’ve got four of them here. There are a few more in the living quarters. Good company. They can startle you, though, and they can make an awful mess. More than once I’ve threatened to make stew out of ’em and eat ’em for dinner.” The Starmen looked at one another, wondering if he was joking. His next action showed that he was.

“Come on, Howard,” said Montezuma gently, bending over and calling into the dark place where the koalang had hidden. “They won’t hurt you. I know you’re not used to company, but no one’s gonna hurt you. Come on out. That’s it, come on.” He reached in gently and drew a small creature out of the darkness. It had a small furry face with large, frightened eyes, and snuggled up against the miner. Its fur was caramel and white. He folded it into his chest and covered it gently with both hands. He crooned to it lovingly for a moment or two, then said, “That’s right. You’re okay. Go play.” Then he added with mock fierceness, “Just stay out of the paint!” He set it down and turned back to the door at the end of the corridor.

“In here,” he directed, leading the way into the room beyond.

4: Sabbath George

THE ROOM was smaller than the Starmen had anticipated. Its small size was accentuated by being packed to the ceiling with a variety of items. Hand tools identical to those used by rock hounds for centuries lay on tables and on shelves. Stacks of paper, most of which showed signs of being bound by hand, covered much of the remaining space. On one shelf was a large, clear sphere on an ornately shaped stand. The eyes of all three Starmen were drawn to it.

“Have a seat,” offered their host.

There were three chairs. Montezuma sat in one placed before a desk and swiveled to face his visitors. Zip and Joe took the other chairs and Mark sat on a short stack of crates filled with rock samples. A thick book rested on a table in the center of the room. Mark glanced at the title, turning his head slightly to do so. It was _The Flying Carpet_, by Richard Halliburton. There was a bookmark about halfway through the book.

The asteroid miner leaned forward. “What about George?” he asked.

Zip filled him in. Montezuma Vly paid close attention. His eyes never wavered from Zip’s face as he spoke. When Zip was finished, Vly nodded.

“Mm hmm,” he murmured. “This could be bad for George. I’ll tell you where to find him. I expect that you’ll be able to keep him out of the clutches of the space vultures. You’ve got an enemy to be reckoned with in this Zimbardo psychopath, but I believe you can handle him.”

“You seem to know a lot about our recent exploits, Mr. Vly,” said Joe, conversationally.

“I’m not the complete recluse people think, Mr. Taylor. People have a lot of wrong ideas about me. I don’t want to be listed in the Register of Peoples, and I don’t want people butting into my business or telling me how to live, but I keep up with the news. If I hadn’t recognized you, you wouldn’t have been allowed to land on my asteroid. You’re not wearing Starman’s red, you know.”

“We’re grateful to you, Mr. Vly,” nodded Zip.

“May I ask--” began Mark, then hesitated.

“Yes, you may ask. Go on.”

Mark turned his head toward the sphere. “The sphere...”

“Oh yes. It’s pure crystal, all right.”

The Starmen gasped. “_Pure...crystal...?_” stammered Mark. “Why, there can’t be a larger one in the Solar System! It’s priceless!”

“Next largest was in the Smithsonian Institution, a little more than twelve inches in diameter. This one’s sixteen and three-quarters inches. Found it myself on Adamant--that’s the parent asteroid from which this sliver I live on was busted off a few millennia ago.” Mark knew he was referring to what he had called a “worthless chunk” before they landed.

Vly went on. “Shaped it myself in those old machines you saw coming in here. Had to redesign some of ’em to fit a crystal this size, but we did it.”

“It looks flawless!” breathed Joe.

“Looks it, but isn’t. Its flaws are its greatest treasure. Watch this; you haven’t seen anything yet.” Vly picked up a small cutting tool with a laser guide at the end. He turned off the lights and then pointed the laser at the crystal sphere. The beam struck the surface and then scattered throughout the interior of the globe, igniting sparks of spectacular glory. Mark could feel tears come into his eyes from the unearthly beauty the light created. Many dozens of flakes, invisible to the naked eye, were revealed when the laser beam pierced the near-perfect sphere. They exploded in glorious colors--gold, orange, deep red, flaming yellow, silver; even a few brilliant green, deep blue, and violet sparks traced across the inner world.

The Starmen were speechless. They couldn’t take their eyes off the resplendent glory of the sphere under the laser light. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” asked Vly, gently. There was no need to answer.

“Where do the colors come from?” asked Mark. “Laser light has only one wavelength, so it can’t be refracting in there.”

“The crystal’s impurities are almost invisible to the unaided eye,” answered Vly, “but the laser hits the impurities and causes secondary emissions of light of all sorts of color--the more impurities, the more colors. It lights up better than a fire opal.”

As he moved the laser beam slowly around the globe, the interior lights changed--first one, then another “flaw” taking the light and surging into radiance.

All too soon, he switched off the laser and turned the room lights back on. It was almost as if a spell had been broken.

“C’mon,” he said. “I’ll show you just where George is on the chart.” He moved back down the hall, the Starmen following. When they were back in the room they had first entered, Vly reached up into a recess where there were several rolled sheets of paper. “Move aside,” he said quietly, pushing a reluctant koalang over and pulling out a large roll. He unrolled it over a rock polisher and gestured for the Starmen to take the corners. It was a map of a portion of the asteroid belt.

“Here’s where we are,” said Vly, pointing to a spot on the map, “and here’s where George is.” His finger swept across the map to where a tiny dot had been placed. “It’s a mining operation of moderate size called Z25. He runs it there with a fair-sized crew--maybe a dozen men.” There were equations, sketches, and notes scribbled all over the sheet.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Vly,” said Mark, “but I don’t follow you. I’m used to plotting coordinates and thinking in three dimensions.”

“See these figures?” asked Vly. “They’re your coordinates. It is a three-dimensional map, in a manner of speaking. If it weren’t, I couldn’t get around. I’ll write down what you need. But you’ll find George on that little plunk of a rock. He’s been there several months now and won’t be hard to find, once I point it out to you. I just spoke to him a few hours ago and I’ll get ahold of him again and tell him you’ll be coming.” He began to write some notes down for Mark.

“Must take a lot of power to run your operation here, Mr. Vly,” observed Mark while he waited for Montezuma to finish writing. “Don’t you have to conserve energy?”