Sabotage in Space - Carey Rockwell (philippa perry book .txt) 📗
- Author: Carey Rockwell
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Book online «Sabotage in Space - Carey Rockwell (philippa perry book .txt) 📗». Author Carey Rockwell
"Quite a story." Tom laughed. "What happened to the fellow that took Sam over the hurdles?"
"He's got a joint on the other side of town called Bad Richard's. But they're friends now. Get along fine."
Tom paid the driver and stood on the sidewalk, watching the silver cab shoot away into the darkness. Then he took a deep breath and slowly moved toward the open door of Sloppy Sam's.
Inside, Tom saw that most of the customers were lined up at the bar, drinking rocket juice, a dark foul-tasting liquid that Tom had sipped once and vowed he would never try again. But as he looked around, he didn't think it was the type of place you could order anything milder, so he walked up to the bar and ordered loudly, "A bucket of juice."
Some of the men at the bar turned away from the stereo screen to look at the newcomer. They eyed the crisp, clean uniform narrowly, and then turned silently back to the play on the screen.
The husky bartender placed the small glass of dark liquid in front of Tom. "Twenty credits," he announced in a hoarse voice.
"Twenty!" exclaimed Tom. "Don't give me that rocket wash! It's five credits a shot."
"To a Space Cadet that wants to keep his reputation, Corbett," replied the burly man, "it's twenty."
Tom realized that the man had seen his picture on the stereo news that afternoon and that it would be impossible to get out of paying this blatant form of blackmail. He handed over the money and picked up the glass. He sipped it to keep up appearances but even the few drops he allowed to trickle down his throat almost made him gag. He gasped for breath. Whatever information he might be able to get here, it wasn't worth another swallow of that stuff.
He stood at the bar for nearly half an hour, watching the stereo and waiting. When the show was over, the men turned back to the serious business of drinking. Two of them drifted over close to Tom and looked him up and down. After a whispered conversation, they turned to him and pointed to his drink, the same one he had bought and had not touched since.
"Drink up, mate," said the nearest man, a tall, heavy-shouldered man with a dark beard, "then join us in another one."
"No, thanks," said Tom. "One's my limit."
The two men laughed. "Well, I'll say this for you, lad, you're honest about it," said the tall one. "Most squirts coming in here try to put on they can take the stuff and then they wind up in the gutter."
"That's right, Cag!" said the other man, laughing.
"What are you doing in here, Cadet?" asked the man called Cag.
"Looking for a guy."
"What's his name? Maybe we know him."
"Yeah, we might," chimed in the other. "We know just about everybody that comes in here."
"Maybe he don't want to tell us, Monty," said Cag.
"I don't know his name," said Tom. "I just met him today and he mentioned this place. I wanted to talk to him about something."
"Where did you see him?"
Tom paused. It was only a chance remark that the driver of the jet truck had made and it was a slim chance that these two men might know him. He decided to risk it. "He's a jet trucker. I saw him out at the spaceport today."
The two men looked at each other. "Little guy, with a sort of funny twitch in his eye?" asked Cag.
"Yes," replied Tom. "That's him. Know him?"
"He hangs out in a joint across the street," said Monty. "Come on outside. I'll show you where it is. And his name's Pistol, in case you want to know."
"Pistol," said Tom. "That's an odd name."
"Not when you consider he carries a pistol all the time," snorted Cag.
Tom and the two men walked to the door and out into the street.
"What do you want to see him about, anyway?" asked Monty, as they walked to the corner.
"Just wanted to talk to him about the jet-trucking business."
"What about it? We're truckers, me and Cag, we could probably tell you a lot more than Pistol."
"Maybe," said Tom. "But I want to talk to Pistol."
They stopped at the corner and Monty stepped off the curb into the street. "See that light down there," he said, pointing down the block, "the one just above the door?"
Tom turned to look. "Where—?"
He suddenly felt a sharp jolting pain in the back of his head and then everything went black.
"Nice work, Cag," commented Monty.
"What'll we do with him?" asked Cag.
"Throw him in the back of the truck and get outta here," said Monty, pulling Tom's limp form into the shadows of an alley. "I'll get in touch with the boss and tell him what's happened. And you better send out word to get Pistol. He must know something."
"Right," said Cag. "Gee, Corbett's getting his nice clean uniform messed up."
Dirty gutter water flowed over Tom in the dark Martian alley as the boy lay deathly still.
CHAPTER 9"What!" exclaimed Major Connel. "Give me that again."
The messenger from the Solar Guard headquarters on Mars repeated the message. "Cadet Corbett has not been in his hotel since last night, sir," he said. "He was seen leaving the service entrance at about 2100 hours. There is no report as to his whereabouts, sir."
Standing at the foot of the ladder leading to the main air lock of the Polaris, Major Connel turned to Carter Devers angrily.
"This is the end!" he shouted. "I've had as much of this foolishness as I'm going to take. When that young space brat comes back, I'm going to throw the book at him."
"Now, now, Major," said Devers. "I wouldn't be too hard on the lad. How do you know that he isn't in some kind of trouble?"
"That's just it," growled Connel. "One of those three is always in trouble."
"He saved your life," reminded Devers.
"I'm well aware of that," replied Connel stiffly. "But it's a personal debt. It has nothing to do with his behavior as a cadet. I ordered him to go to that hotel and rest, not go skylarking all over Marsport. This is typical of the whole unit's attitude."
"But you said that they were the best crew you ever had," insisted Devers.
"I know, but what's worse is that they know it! Blast it, Carter, it isn't easy to say the things I've said about Corbett! He's a fine lad. But look at it this way. I have to return to Atom City immediately. Corbett may be in trouble, right?" Devers nodded. "Well, how do you think I feel, blasting off and leaving him?"
Devers nodded his understanding as Connel continued furiously, "And furthermore, I have more important things to think about than wet-nursing a cadet."
At that moment Connel noticed a jet car racing across the spaceport toward the Polaris. As it drew near, he saw the insigne of the Solar Guard on the hood. His eyes widened hopefully for a second. "Humph," he grunted, "this may be him now!"
"If it is," cautioned Devers, "go easy on the boy."
"We'll see, we'll see."
The car screamed to a stop in front of them, the plastic blister was thrown back, and another Solar Guard messenger climbed out, saluting Connel smartly.
"Message from Solar Guard headquarters, Major Connel," he said.
Connel took the paper and ripped it open. "Excuse me, Carter," he muttered and stepped to one side to read the note hurriedly.
HEMMINGWELL'S CHIEF FOREMAN ARRESTED AS SABOTEUR. ADVISE YOU RETURN IMMEDIATELY. WALTERS
Dashing up the metal ladder, Connel roared the order to the waiting ground crew. "Stand by to blast off."
Carter Devers scrambled up into the giant ship after the Solar Guard officer, and in less than a minute later, all ports were sealed and the Polaris was ready for space. In the pilot's chair, Connel called traffic control for blast-off, and at the same time prepared to raise ship.
By the time Devers had strapped himself into the copilot's chair next to Connel, the ship was quivering with leashed power. Suddenly Connel roared the familiar call for space.
"Blast off, minus five, four, three, two, one, zero!"
The great ship literally exploded off the ground, and within seconds, was rocketing through the thin atmosphere above Mars on course for Earth, far across the deep black velvet void of space, but leaving Tom Corbett, her true commander, behind.
Captain Steve Strong and Commander Walters watched grimly as the Polaris landed on the Academy spaceport. They had been in contact with Connel during his trip back to Earth and had already told the bluff major of still another incident that had taken place at the Academy while he was gone.
Roger and Astro had stolen a rocket scout and disappeared.
"I don't get it, sir," sighed Strong. "Manning and Astro blowing wide open, Corbett disappearing—" He shook his head. "It doesn't make sense."
"Perhaps not," said Walters. "But those three are really in trouble now. Connel won't stand for this kind of behavior."
"Do you think that he'll go so far as to ask for a court-martial?"
Walters hesitated. "I hate to say this, Steve," he said finally, "but if Major Connel doesn't, I will be forced to. No other unit has had more of an opportunity to prove itself than the Polaris unit. And every time, something like this happens."
"But suppose they have good explanations," insisted Strong.
"It would have to be better than anything they've had before," replied Walters. "Frankly, I cannot see how that is possible."
Walters climbed into his jet car and Strong followed, biting his lip.
The car shot across the field to the now grounded Polaris, pulling alongside it just as Major Connel and Carter Devers climbed out of the open hatch. Without even the courtesy of a greeting, Connel roared, "What's this about those two cadets stealing a ship?"
"Let's talk about that later, Lou," said Walters. "Climb in. We've got something more important to discuss. The saboteur."
Devers stepped forward. "This is no place for me, I know," he said. "I'll leave you here. And thanks for the lift, Major."
Connel grunted his acknowledgment and climbed into the car as Strong turned to Devers.
"There was a message for you, Mr. Devers," said the Solar Guard captain. "You're to get in touch with your Atom City office immediately."
"Thanks, Steve," said Devers, and with a wave of his hand to the others walked away.
As the jet car raced back to the Tower of Galileo, Walters brought Connel up to date on the incident at the hangar leading to the arrest of Pat Troy. When they reached Walters' office, high in the tower, Troy was ushered in by two guards.
"Sit down!" barked Connel, taking command of the situation.
Troy walked to the center of the room and sat down in the indicated chair, facing Walters, Connel, and Strong.
"We'd like to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible, Troy," began Connel. "So I suggest that you tell us the truth and save us the trouble of pulling it out of you.
"I will answer all of your questions to the best of my ability, sir," said Troy calmly. "And I will tell the truth at all times."
"Very well," snorted Connel. "Now, who are you working for?"
"Professor Hemmingwell," replied Troy.
"Stow that," snarled Connel. "Who paid you to sabotage the ship?"
"I have not committed any sabotage for anyone, sir."
"Then you deny that you wrecked that firing unit?"
"Yes."
Walters suddenly leaned forward. "But you do not deny that you knew about the special unit that Professor Hemmingwell had created," he said. "A unit that only he and I knew about?"
"I knew about the unit—yes, sir," replied Troy.
"How could you?" demanded Walters.
"I overheard you both discussing it one day."
"Where?"
"In
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