Chapter 5

THE PIRATES’ ASTEROID swung in a smooth, private orbit about a thousand miles beyond the farthest extremity of the Asteroid Belt. Lurton Zimbardo was in his private sanctum, a well-equipped workroom with precision astronomical equipment, sky charts, and an enormous inventory of computer files. As he turned his telescanner toward the Inner Planets, he saw the spread of the Belt before him.

Countless celestial bodies moved in an incredibly slow pattern like a stately dance. Reflected sunlight glinted from oblique surfaces into the light-gathering lenses of the telescanner. When the occasional crystalline surface or frozen lake on a passing asteroid caught the radiance just right, an intense but transitory sparkling brilliance was generated, and created a pattern of astonishing beauty on the scanner’s computer screen.

Zimbardo entered a few more bits of data into the criteria of his search pattern and then said, “Enter.” Within seconds several asteroids were marked in his files. He brought their profiles up one by one.

M253. Shape: oblong. Maximum length: 0.683 miles. Maximum width: 0.307 miles. Composition: 90.568% iron, 6.443% tin, 0.752% ice, 2.237% trace elements; click here for details.

Other information was provided, including the asteroid’s precise location and its speed of motion and rotation. Zimbardo hesitated a moment, then said, “Delete.” He went on to the next entry.

M3366. Shape: almost perfect sphere; variation <5%. Mean diameter, 0.057 miles.

The other information was provided. Zimbardo smiled. “Ah--nearly solid iron and about 100 yards exactly!” he thought to himself. “That makes five.” He told the computer to save that file, then opened the intercom.

“Gene,” he said.

“Yes sir,” came the immediate response.

“Contact Mr. Crass and tell him I want M3366.”

“Right away, sir.”

“Then call the five lieutenants up to my study at once, please. Get Kimball, Lorry, and Jenner also. Once you’ve called them, come up yourself.” Gene nodded and activated the personal contact codes of the men Zimbardo wanted to see.

A quarter of an hour later, the ten men were in the lounge in Zimbardo’s quarters. He was playing host, and pouring out a dark golden sherry wine into luxurious spun glass goblets.

One of the men lifted up the goblet so the illumination reflected from it, highlighting subtle rainbow whorls in the surface. He swirled his wine before he sipped it.

“Very nice, Lurton, and the glass here is pretty top stuff.”

“The wine came from Earth but the glassware came with the asteroid, Jeff. This place has so much in it that I haven’t found a hundredth of what it contains, but all of it is high quality.”

The men relaxed in the comfortable chairs. The chairs automatically adjusted to the body weight and shape of whoever sat in them. Soft, almost imperceptible music was playing in the background. A light fragrance in the air eased tensions and sharpened minds for thought. Zimbardo had nothing to do with creating this atmosphere--these features came on automatically whenever anyone entered the room.

“Petty soft life you got here, Zimbardo,” sighed the man named Lorry, easing himself down into his chair. “I’m not used to this kind of comfort.”

“No, Lorry, I guess not. You don’t find too many easy chairs aboard the kind of ships you pilot when you’re transporting the Banjoman’s flilox to his customers in the Belt. But when our plan succeeds, you’ll be able to buy all the soft chairs you want. Let’s get down to business.”

Zimbardo stood before the assembled company. Behind him, taking up most of the wall, was a map of a large portion of Mars. “As I was saying when we met in the hangar assembly room yesterday, it is simply a matter of choosing an appropriate target to convince them we have the capability. What should our target be? Well here, gentlemen, are the five major atmospheric generation plants on Mars.” He turned to the map and pointed out five places--two in the northern hemisphere, two near the equator, and one in the southern hemisphere. “Each is valued at two billion solars and would take several years to replace. The damage won’t bankrupt the government, but the expense is far from negligible! Even more importantly, when they are destroyed, Starlight Enterprise’s terraformation project will suffer a severe setback--possibly as much as three to four years. Now, data gathered from analysis has shown that these plants can be removed very easily by the proposal we have suggested. Mr. Crass, do you have anything to add?”

“No, Mr. Zimbardo. I’ve checked the specs on the asteroids you’ve selected and I’ve checked progress with what Stubb is doing. If he has the propulsion units ready in ten days, we can deliver our first package to Mars in precisely two weeks.”

A muscular man in short sleeves spoke up. Since no one else wore short sleeves, everyone suspected that he wore his sleeves short to show off his biceps. “Lurton--what about the ships that went to interrogate Vly? We know five took off, and yesterday I only saw one return. No one else wants to ask about it, but I’m asking. If I’m going to risk my men and my ships on this venture of yours, I want to know what’s involved.”

As the man was speaking, Gene lowered his head and kept his eyes on the floor.

“All right, Captain Kimball. It’s a fair question. You’re right. Five went out and only one returned. None of the men was lost--the returning ship brought them all back. But four of the ships were destroyed before they could land on Montezuma’s Castle.” Zimbardo’s five lieutenants were already aware of the setback. The visitors, Jeff Jenner and Lorry, were stunned. Kimball grunted, as if a suspicion had been confirmed.

“Well?” he pressed, his face hard and demanding.

“Gene,” said Zimbardo, turning away. He didn’t like to deliver news of defeat.

“The pilots of the ships tell essentially the same story,” began Gene. “They came directly to Montezuma’s asteroid, opened communications, and insisted that they were going to land. There was no response. But within seconds some kind of energy beam came forth from Adamant, the neighboring asteroid, and sliced the four ships into small sections. It was clear that there was no intention to kill any personnel--only to destroy the ships. The crews were left floating in space. Forces of some kind we are not familiar with pulled them into the proximity of the remaining ship, where they were taken aboard. Clearly, against forces like that we are helpless. The ship returned immediately. The men are badly shaken.”

Kimball grunted again. “And Vly?”

Zimbardo answered. “They never talked to him. But we don’t need him. A short time after this incident he radioed to St. George and we intercepted the beam. We’d been looking for it. Vly probably assumed that with the destruction of our landing party he was safe and so was St. George. But his call went directly to asteroid Z25. It was encrypted so we couldn’t read it, but we didn’t have to know what the message was to know where it went. Our other five ships were two days away from the location. They went directly there and picked up all the miners, including St. George, in a very neat operation.”

The intercom buzzed. “Mr. Zimbardo?”

“Yes, what is it?” he responded with obvious irritation.

“Sorry to bother you, sir, but you asked to be informed as soon as the ships returned. The _Silver Cloud_ and its four companion ships are expected to dock in approximately 45 minutes.”

“Very good!” Zimbardo’s initial irritation was instantly dispelled. “Tell Mr. Lather to put the prisoners into the cell block. I will deal with them later.” The intercom went off and Zimbardo turned back to the gathering. “As you heard, St. George will be on the asteroid within the hour.”

There were nods around the table. Many questions were asked about the destruction of the four ships near Montezuma’s Castle, but there were no answers. The issue was left unresolved; Zimbardo, however, was not saying everything he suspected. He was frightened, but determined that no one would know it. He had heard of the legend of the greegles and took it more seriously than anyone would ever suspect.

* * * * *

Richard Starlight’s spacious office was located near the top of the highest tower on the Moon, the giant SE headquarters building located forty miles north of Amundsen City. Accessible only by two express elevators, his office covered nearly an entire floor of the tower--more than 3,000 square feet. Its walls were treated glass, harder than any metal alloy and impervious to the constant rain of micro-meteorites, with clarity which was nearly perfect. The office was the equivalent of 121 stories above ground level, and only an observation deck and various antennae were above it. The lunar landscape was visible for miles in every direction. The pass which marked the entrance to the Field of Obsolescence was barely visible ten miles away just a little east of north.

What he called his “office” was really a combination laboratory, resource library, work and communications center, and lounge. In one corner was a huge table, made of artificial material but, apart from chemical analysis, not distinguishable from highly polished mahogany. Its chairs matched its reflective sheen. Table and chairs rested on an intricately patterned carpet that measured at least twenty by twenty-five feet. Patterns in cerulean blue, silver, and gray, with flecks of green and violet beautifully complemented the lunar gray visible through the windows. Not far from the table was an immense, detailed globe of the Earth, about four feet in diameter and perfectly balanced. Equally detailed globes of the Moon and Mars on the same scale were nearby. In another corner were globes of Mercury and Venus and a few other celestial bodies.

“I’m sorry to put an end to the festivities this way, gentlemen,” said Richard Starlight to the assembly. Around the table were the President of the United States and three of his advisors, among whom were Commander John Lewis of Space Command. Richard’s second-in-command, John “Rock” Rwakatare, head engineer of the Advanced Design Department of SE was also present, as were Allen Foster, Keith Seaton, and Charlie Taylor, the fathers of the three Starmen. Robert Nolan, founder of Nolan Mining Enterprises and a friend and colleague of Richard Starlight, and his second-in-command Beowulf Denn filled out the number.

On two viewscreens were stationary images of Oritz Konig on Mars, and Steve Cliff en route to the Moon from the Asteroid Belt. The time delay for Konig was a little more than fifteen minutes, and for Cliff was about 22 minutes, so they could not actively participate in the discussion. Both, however, had vital reports to make and Richard was prepared to present them by videotape at the right time.

Richard continued. “We all expected that our three Starmen would be back with us in two days for the Reception of Honor. That will have to be postponed. Most of you know at least something of the reason why, but this urgent meeting was called to make sure that everyone is brought up to date and, more importantly, to take counsel on a course of action.”

Richard summed up what had been learned about the pirates after the liberation of Mars up to the point of the Starmen’s departure from Oritz Konig’s office.

“Our conclusion is that, although we have 542 men in custody in Eagle City, including their captain Troy Putnam, several dozen pirates are still free. It would have taken a large facility to prepare the ships and house the men used in the assault on Mars, and it is virtually certain that a sufficient force for maintaining this operation was left at their base. We believe that this was probably a minimal number, but there may have been pirates in other locations in the Asteroid Belt or elsewhere. Moreover, as you know, one ship managed to escape from Mars during the liberation. Oritz Konig, now on special assignment at Mars Base, will make a report on what we’ve learned about Putnam’s chief assistant, Lurton Zimbardo.”

By pre-recorded videotape, SE’s Chief of Security presented a brief report, similar to that which he had given to the Starmen.

At its conclusion, Richard continued. “Since the ship that escaped headed recklessly at its highest velocity toward a certain area of the Belt, we can reasonably assume that the pirates’ base is situated on an asteroid not far from that area.”

Nolan asked, “Why were the ships from Space Command not able to find this asteroid, or any trace of the pirates?” Robert Nolan was a man of early middle age, slight of build, with thinning hair. He was noted for his analytical mind and incisive decisions. His hard work over a twenty-year span had built a small company into an influential corporation, and his achievements had brought him respect throughout the Inner Planetary system.

“This is what we are gathered here to reveal,” Richard answered. “I’m afraid the news is quite disturbing. Steve Cliff will give us his report.”

By videotape, Steve Cliff reported what he had seen in the area of Z25. He concluded, “So it is obvious that the pirates have a very effective radar bender. Their ships are, in effect, invisible to our standard radar detection systems.”

When Steve’s report was over, Richard added, “Steve Cliff was immensely helpful when we sent the two Starmen to Mars. He did us another favor by following them as far as Z25 when he preferred to return to Earth. He is on his way back to Earth now. Oritz asked him to keep an eye on the Starmen for their own safety, and as you can tell from his report it was a very good thing indeed that he did!”

The men at the table looked grim. The fathers of the Starmen wore especially troubled expressions.

“Our battle with the pirates is not yet over, I’m afraid,” continued Richard Starlight. “Their radar bender is nearly perfect. The notion of developing a technique that makes an object invisible to radar is not new, of course, but in spite of several decades of effort even Starlight Enterprise has not been able to achieve the high level of effectiveness Zimbardo’s men have available to them. From these observations we draw two disquieting conclusions.

“First, we learned from the pirates we captured on Mars that their base is probably invisible to radar; it can’t be seen with normal methods. It’s likely that the pirates have outfitted _all_ their ships with the device that makes objects invisible to radar, not just the five Steve Cliff observed. If so, their ships can be anywhere without the possibility of any of our bases or centers of civilization being aware of them until they become visible to the eye. Since all our computers track ships and contribute toward strategic battle decisions based on radar data, it is almost impossible to guard against such pirate raids as Zimbardo’s men are now able to carry out--and have already done on Z25.” Richard sighed.

“Second, and most alarming of all, it is almost impossible for the pirates to have invented the radar bender on their own. We had surmised this shortly after our first conversations with the captive pirates on Mars, but since then our computer has estimated the chance that they did so to be approximately 0.0001%. That kind of technology is beyond any earthly scientific capability. It is much more likely that they got it from some alien civilization--a highly advanced alien civilization.

“We don’t have any solid information other than that, so we can only guess what level of connection there may be between any such hypothetical civilization and the pirates. At any rate, where the radar bender came from, other devices might come too--military devices against which Earth has no defense. And we have no idea when we will learn the pirates’ next move, and we don’t know where the Starmen are now.”

The room was silent. Everyone was stunned. When Mars was liberated they had thought that the conflict was at an end. Now they saw that their situation was more desperate than they thought possible.

After a moment, Robert Nolan spoke up. His eyes were wide and his voice was high-pitched. “Wh--, what can we do? Can’t we find these pirates? Can’t we just send out ships and comb the entire area of the Belt where they disappeared? Can’t we...?”

Keith Seaton broke in. “Robert, believe me, if there were _anything_ we could do, _anything_ we could think of that wouldn’t be the equivalent of running around in circles, we’d be doing it! The Starmen are our sons! Richard informed us last night that they were captured, and we’ve done just about nothing else but try to think of something we can do.”

Allen Foster joined in. His voice was level and determined, clearly being controlled with supreme effort. “It is impossible to do a random search of the Asteroid Belt--even if we restrict our search to the section where the hidden base must lie. We’ve done the math. We may as well be looking for a black marble hidden at night anywhere in North America.”

“And invisible ships!” Nolan gasped. “The Solar System has no defense against anything like that. Why, they could come in anywhere and invade! They’d be invincible! We couldn’t even see what hit us!”

Commander Lewis spoke up. “And an alien civilization! They could have science beyond what we can imagine. Earth doesn’t stand a chance against an enemy like that!” The men were scared.

After a moment when no one else addressed the gathering, the President spoke. “Our position is essentially the same as it was when Mars was still in the control of the pirates. Our strength does not lie in superior science or in superior numbers. Troy Putnam recently placed his trust in superior strength and technology; the unsoundness of such a hope is shown by his fall. David fought Goliath and won because his trust was in the right place. Zimbardo might have weapons and other technology of which we cannot even conceive and he might do great damage, but he is still in the wrong. Evil might have its day, but in the end it will always fall; the forces of light will overcome it as it decays from within. With that faith and that assurance, we can make our plans. Does anyone have a suggestion as to how we can meet this crisis?”

Allen Foster spoke again. “There are two issues here: finding and rescuing the Starmen and their companions, and defending our civilization from the pirates. For the first, well, we’re very hopeful that they are still alive because they were taken aboard the pirates’ ship before the base on Z25 was destroyed. They are resourceful young men--they are Starmen, after all.

“For the second, any solution I’m afraid will be long-term. We’ll have to develop a detector that uses a process other than radar--perhaps something based on gravity or light absorption. But you can appreciate the obvious fact, I’m sure, that inventing such machinery will probably take a very long time. No, I think that our course now must be entirely defensive. We are, at least, forewarned. But I’m sure that the pirates will be making the next move before we can do anything about it.”

7: Prisoners on the Pirates’ Asteroid

“WHAT’S the word for ‘walk’?” asked Mark.

“Gentrikian,” answered Zip automatically.

“That makes forty-seven points for you,” said Joe. “I need fifteen more just to catch up. C’mon Mark, give me an easy one--help me out.”

“Okay. Do you want English to Titanian or Titanian to English?”

“Titanian to English. That’s easier.”

“K’intrishian.”

Joe thought for a moment. Languages seemed to come easily to Mark--he could absorb concepts and find mental hooks to hang them on with no noticeable effort at all. Joe found languages far more difficult. He preferred engine diagrams and flow charts.

“I don’t know!” The lean pilot blasted, exasperated. The Starmen, like the crew from Z25, were passing time as they entered the third day of their captivity aboard the _Silver Cloud_. Mark was teaching Zip and Joe some of the Titanian vocabulary he’d been working on for two years.

“This one should be easy for you, Joe, even if it isn’t ‘sleep’ or ‘eat.’ The answer is just about all we’ve been able to do on this trip so far.”

“Well, sleeping and eating is all we’ve done!”

“‘K’intrishian’ means ‘wait.’”

Joe grinned. “We’ve certainly been doing a lot of that on this outing! The past couple of weeks have seemed about pointless! Just about all we’ve been doing is bouncing from place to place! We blasted off from Eagle City to the Asteroid Belt and then went right back to Mars. Then back to Ceres in the Asteroid Belt. Then to Montezuma’s Castle and on to Z25, and we complete our mission just in time to get captured by the enemy! Now we’re being taken to this ‘secret asteroid’ where Lurton Zimbardo has his base and I’ll bet anything we’re going right back to where we started--where we lost track of that ship we were chasing into the Belt!”

An announcement came through the intercom. “Prepare for deceleration in two minutes.”

The Starmen looked at one another, then at the crew of Z25. St. George was already walking toward his acceleration couch. Each of them could feel his heart suddenly beating a little faster. They strapped themselves into their couches. Zip looked out of the window but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

A moment later, the rockets on the _Silver Cloud_ ignited and the ship began to slow. About half an hour later, the had slowed to a crawl and the view of the stars disappeared. It became apparent to the prisoners that they had entered a tunnel. After a few seconds, the ship touched down and secured itself to the landing pad. The prisoners waited. No one spoke.

Minutes passed, then the door to their quarters opened. Spelford stood in the opening, with several other men behind him. All were armed.

“Time to go,” Spelford announced. The prisoners were escorted single file through the ship and down the access ladder to the floor of the landing pad. They were under observation at all times by armed men in front of them and behind.

Joe reached the bottom of the ladder and turned to look around. To his right was an enormous clear wall which sealed off the landing area from the immense tunnel through which the ships had come. In front of him and to his left was a complex of charcoal-dark structures, lined with silver trim and glinting with many panels of glass. The entire area was powerfully lit by dozens of sources hundreds of feet above him. He was both impressed and intimidated at the same time.

As soon as the prisoners had debarked from the _Silver Cloud_, Spelford began giving orders.

“Move. This way. Stay in single file.”

The line crossed the field and passed through a second airlock. Leaving the field behind, they entered a large manufacturing area. Several dozen men were working feverishly at massive tables and work centers. Sparks from welding areas were visible in the back parts of the area. Flashing lights from many desks lit up the faces of men with intent gazes, whose attention was fixed on close work on numerous small circuit boards. A few workers glanced curiously at the line of prisoners, but they didn’t waste time on a thorough investigation of the newcomers.

Spelford and his detail escorted the prisoners through an immense double door, down a wide passageway, and into a large elevator. The elevator could accommodate fifty men easily. When all were inside, Spelford tapped a number into the control pad and the elevator began to descend. It stopped in seconds and the door opened into an area where several corridors came together. Two small elevator doors flanked the one from which the men emerged. The procession entered a dimly-lit corridor that extended for about a hundred yards. Many doors were set into the walls, but none was open.