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On the Trail of the Space Pirates

<h2>CHAPTER 18</h2> "Have you got everything straight?" asked Coxine. Simms nodded his head. "All right, blast off," ordered the pirate. "We'll follow you and keep you spotted on radar. If it's a trap, head for asteroid fourteen, bail out in a jet boat, and let the scout keep going. We'll pick you up later." Simms nodded again and turned to his old partner, Wallace. "So long, Gus." He smiled. "This is one time the Solar Guard gets it right where it hurts!" "Yeah," agreed Wallace. "See you later. Take it easy on that asteroid and don't get in trouble with the girls!" The two men laughed and Simms turned to climb into the waiting rocket scout. The sleek ship had been stripped down until it was hardly more than a power deck and control panel. She was now capable of more than twice her original speed. As the little spaceman disappeared into the air lock, Coxine turned to Wallace. "We'll give him an hour's head start and then blast off after him. And remember, the first man that breaks audio silence will get blasted!" All eyes were on the tiny rocket scout as its jets, roaring into life, lifted free of the pirate planetoid. When the speedy little ship had disappeared into space, Coxine turned to his crew and ordered an immediate alert. While the criminals readied the armed privateer for blast-off, Coxine and Wallace climbed directly to the radar bridge. Joe Brooks was hunched in front of the scanner, staring intently. He looked up when the two pirate officers entered. "Just following Lieutenant Simms on the radar, skipper," said Brooks. "He's blasting through the asteroid belt faster than I thought he could." "Lemme see!" growled Coxine. The giant pirate stared at the scanner and his mouth twisted into a grin. He turned away and barked several orders. "Wallace, stand by to blast off in two minutes! Brooks, get me a bearing on that ship." "You mean Simms?" asked the radarman. "No! I mean that ship, right there," snapped Coxine. He pointed to a white blip on the scanner. "And after you get the bearing I want a course that'll intersect it in"—Coxine paused and glanced at the astral chronometer—"ten minutes!" Quickly calculating the bearing and working up the course as ordered, Brooks handed Coxine a slip of paper. The pirate glanced at it briefly. "What would you say Simms' speed would be if he kept his ship on full thrust, Brooks?" asked Coxine. Brooks thought a moment. "I'd say it would be about half of what he's making now!" "Exactly!" roared Coxine. "That's why the ship on your scanner isn't Simms' at all, but another ship!" The radarman studied the scanner, where, with each sweep of the thin white line, the blip of the ship appeared. "You mean it might be the Titan pay roll?" he breathed hopefully. "Yeah," breathed Coxine. "I mean it might be the Titan pay roll, and then again it might not!" Coxine turned away, leaving the radarman utterly confused. Within the two-minute deadline that Coxine had ordered, the members of his crew were locking the last air lock and securing ship for blast-off. Coxine sat in front of the control panel, ready to give the final order that would send the vessel hurtling into space. In a little while, the evil mind, the twisted brain of Bull Coxine would be pitted against the might of the Solar Guard. <hr style='width: 45%;' /> Captain Strong sat on the control deck of the decoy ship, watching the radar scanner and waiting for the appearance of Bull Coxine and his crew. Again and again, the young Solar Guard officer, too restless to remain in one spot, got up and paced the deck. He flipped on a chart screen and studied the positions of the surrounding asteroids, which he knew hid the Solar Guard fleet, ready to pounce on any attacking ship. Schooled for years in facing the tedium of space travel and patrolling the space lanes, Strong nevertheless was anxious for something to happen, as minute after minute slipped past and no attack came. Once he thought he saw something move on the scanner and gripped the sides of the instrument tightly as a blip appeared, disappeared, and then reappeared. Finally Strong was able to distinguish what it was and he turned away in disgust. It had been a maverick asteroid, one which, because of its positive gravity, never became a captive of other bodies in space. It wandered aimlessly through the belt, a danger spacemen feared more than any other, since it could not be depended upon to remain in one position. Unable to break audio silence and communicate with the hidden Solar Guard fleet around him, lest he give away their positions, Strong found the loneliness driving him into a case of jitters and nerves. Suddenly he jumped up and stared unbelievingly at the scanner. There in front of him was a blip, traveling at amazing speed, straight for his ship. From its size and shape, Strong could tell it was a rocket scout. He watched it for a moment dumfounded at the speed of the small ship. When he was certain that it was heading for him, he grabbed the audioceiver microphone and began calling hurriedly. "Attention all ships! This is Captain Strong. Spaceship approaching me, starboard quarter, one-one-five degrees. Estimated speed—" Strong paused and watched the moving blip. "Speed unknown. All ships close in immediately!" On the scanner, Strong could see the flashes of blips as the squadrons roared out of concealment and closed in on the approaching rocket scout. Over the audioceiver he could hear the squadron commanders snapping orders to their ships as the small ship still headed, unheedingly, for his decoy vessel. Suddenly the attacking ship slowed and Strong could see the blip turn in a wide-sweeping curve. But it was too late. The Solar Guard ships had it surrounded from every possible angle. The little scout made a desperate dash straight for Strong's ship. In a flash, he saw the plan of the ship's pilot. He was heading for Strong, hoping to use him as a shield from the mighty six-inch blasters trained on him. Strong grabbed for the control and fired full thrust on his starboard jets, sending the decoy vessel into a screaming dive. The attacking ship tried to follow, but seeing it couldn't make it, turned and tried to escape from the surrounding ships. Instinctively Strong shouted a warning to the pilot to surrender, but even as he spoke, he saw the firing flashes sparkle on the hulls of a dozen fleet vessels as they sent their deadly atomic missiles converging like lightning arrows on the speedy rocket scout. There was a burst of pure white fire on the scanner and then the young captain gulped as the attacking ship was blasted into a hulk of twisted metal. Strong grabbed the audioceiver microphone and shouted orders to the fleet squadron leaders. " ... Squadron L! Put out immediate rescue jet boats and begin salvage operations. All remaining ships will return to Solar Guard base, Space Academy. End transmission!" Strong hurried to the air lock, hastily put on a space suit, and in a few moments was blasting in a jet boat toward the remains of the attacking scout. Immediately the communications of the departing fleet were filled with talk of their victory over the pirate band. Strong alone felt uneasy about their success. For Coxine to attack in a light rocket scout, which Strong felt sure had been stripped down to gain more speed, did not follow the pattern which the hardened pirate had established in previous raids. When he arrived at the wreckage of the rocket scout, Strong found that his fears were justified. A crew chief from one of the rescue squads approached Strong; his body weightless in space, the man grappled for a handhold on a jutting piece of the twisted wreck, and then spoke to Strong over the helmet spacephones. "We found only one person aboard, sir," he reported. "And the ship appears to have been stripped of everything but engines and control panel." Behind the protective glass of his helmet, Strong grimaced. He turned to Captain Randolph. "We've been tricked again, Randy," said Strong bitterly. "We used a decoy and so did Coxine!" <hr style='width: 45%;' /> "They're closing in!" Roger's voice crackled through the intercom from the radar bridge. "Do we fight or do we let those space crawlers take over?" "Fight!" bellowed Astro from the power deck. "No! Wait!" cried Tom. "We haven't a chance! If we don't heave to, Coxine'll blast us into space junk!" <hr style="width: 45%;" /> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/p194.jpg" alt=""/></div> <hr style="width: 45%;" /> Rocketing through the asteroid belt with the Titan pay roll, the three space cadets, under strict orders to maintain communications silence, were unaware that Bull Coxine had outsmarted Captain Strong. Sending in the rocket scout, he had sprung the Solar Guard trap and had cagily scanned the belt for another ship. Finding the Polaris easily, the pirate captain was blasting in for the attack. On the control deck of the Solar Guard cruiser, Tom Corbett desperately tried to think of a plan to outwit Coxine, while his unit-mates urged him to fight back. "What's the matter, Junior?" Roger called over the intercom sarcastically. "Scared to fight?" "You know I'm not," snapped Tom in reply. "By the rings of Saturn," growled Astro, "I never thought you'd surrender to anybody, Tom!" "Listen, both of you!" shouted Tom. "It's no use! We've got to play this smart!" "Well, start making with the brains," sneered Roger. "Coxine's in range now." "Attention—" A harsh unmistakable voice rumbled over the audioceiver. "This is Bull Coxine! Heave to or you'll be blasted!" "All right, Junior," said Roger bitterly, "company's coming. What now?" "Cut all power, Astro—fast!" ordered Tom. "What's the matter?" growled Astro. "Afraid they'll shoot if you don't stop fast enough?" "Keep your big trap shut and do as I tell you!" snapped Tom. "Listen, Junior!" snarled Roger. "As far as I'm concerned—" Tom interrupted him. "You listen, you idiot! Don't you see what's happened? Coxine must have found out about the decoy ship, and when we showed up on his scanner, he figured right away that we might have the Titan pay roll." "So what?" demanded Roger. "That still doesn't let you off for not belting that crawler with our six-inchers!" "Use your head!" snapped Tom. "With the Solar Guard squadrons on the other side of the belt and with no gun crews on our ship, how far do you think we'd have gotten?" "You didn't have to surrender, Tom," said Astro. "I could have outrun Coxine in nothing flat. Why, I haven't got half the speed out of this old girl I think she's got." "A great idea, bird brain! Run away from the very guy the Solar Guard's going crazy trying to find!" The intercom was suddenly silent as Astro and Roger began to understand Tom's decision and waited for him to elaborate on his idea. "Now, listen, Roger," said Tom patiently, "we've got about five minutes before those crawlers will be aboard. How long will it take you to make a signal beacon that'll send out a constant automatic SOS?" "A what?" asked Roger. "Beacon. One that will transmit on the Solar Guard special frequency and be small enough to hide here on the Polaris." "Why hide it on the Polaris?" asked Astro. "Why not try to get it on their ship?" His tone was almost apologetic now that he realized Tom was not planning a cowardly surrender. "It's a cinch they'll take the Polaris over," explained Tom. "She's fast and she's got six-inch blasters." "I get it!" yelped Astro. "We plant the beacon on the Polaris, and when they take her over, the signal will be going out all the time." Astro paused. "But wait a minute. They'll be sure to search the ship first!" "First things first, Astro," answered Tom. "Roger, can you make the beacon?" "Yeah," said Roger, "but it'll take me at least a half hour!" "You've got to finish it faster than that!" Tom insisted. "I can't, Tom. I just can't." "All right, then we'll have to stall as best we can. Get to work. Meantime, Astro and I will find a place to hide it. How big do you think it'll be?" There was a momentary pause and then Roger replied, "No smaller than six inches. About like a shoe box." "Could you make it three inches thick, and longer, instead of box-shaped?" Roger hesitated again. "Yeah, I guess so. Why?" "Because I just thought of a good place to hide it. They'd have to tear the ship apart to find it, if they even hear the signal!" "Attention! Attention! This is Coxine—" The pirate's voice bawled over the audioceiver again. "You are under my guns. Stand by to receive a boarding party. If you make any attempt to escape, you will be blasted!" Tom grabbed the microphone to the audioceiver and replied, "Orders understood, but you'll have to wait until we can build up air pressure in the air lock." "Very well," said Coxine. "We'll give you fifteen minutes." Tom thought desperately. "You'll have to wait at least a half hour. We broke a valve and have to replace it!" Coxine's voice became suspicious. "Hey, what're you trying to pull?" "Honest, Mister Coxine," whined Tom, "we're not doing anything." "Fifteen minutes," roared Coxine, "or I blast a hole in your ship!" "Yes, sir!" answered Tom, fully aware that the pirate captain would carry out his threat. Dropping the audioceiver microphone, the young cadet hurried to the power deck, where Astro waited impatiently. "Grab a couple of cutting torches, Astro," he said, "and get me a lead-lined suit. I'm going into the reactant chamber." "What?" demanded Astro. "You heard me! I'm going to hide that beacon where they'll never find it." "In the reactant chamber?" asked Astro. "Impossible!" "Remember when we first arrived at the prison asteroid? How thoroughly we were searched?" Astro nodded. "Remember, they even searched the space between the inner and outer hulls? There's three inches of clearance in there. If I cut into that space through the reactant chamber and put the beacon inside, the noise of the jets will keep Coxine from hearing it, and the radioactivity in the chamber will keep them from picking it up on their detectors!" Astro's face spread into a wide grin, and without another word, he began preparing the cutting torches. Ten minutes later Tom emerged from the chamber and nodded triumphantly. "All set, Astro! Now all we need is the beacon." Suddenly the Polaris was rocked by a heavy explosion. "They're firing!" yelled Astro. "Roger! Have you finished the beacon?" demanded Tom over the intercom. "I need another five minutes!" answered Roger. "I have to set the signal to send out the SOS." "Will it send out anything?" asked Tom. The Polaris rocked again from a second explosion. "I don't know, Tom," yelled Roger. "I haven't even tested it!" A third explosion jarred the rocket cruiser and the curly-haired cadet knew that the air lock must have been demolished by now. "Bring down what you've got, Roger!" he yelled. "We'll just have to take a chance that it'll work. And grab yourself a space suit on the way down. When they blast through the inner portal of the lock, we'll need 'em!" "Right!" replied Roger. "Be down there in a second." Astro and Tom hurriedly donned space suits and waited for Roger to bring the beacon. In a moment the blond-haired cadet appeared with the hurriedly contrived beacon. Tom quickly placed it between the two hulls and sealed the hole in the inner hull. A fourth explosion rocked the ship and the three cadets knew that by now the air lock had been blasted away. They put on their space helmets and climbed the ladder to the upper deck. Coxine met them near the air lock, two paralo-ray guns clutched in his gloved hands. Behind him, his crew swarmed in and fanned out all over the ship. But the space pirate stood on the control deck, glaring at Tom. "Whaddya know! The Space Kid himself!" "That's right, Coxine," said Tom quietly, "only the real name is Corbett." Suddenly there was a triumphant shout from one of the pirates. "Skipper! The credits! All twenty million! We found 'em!" Over their spacephones the three cadets could hear the pirates yelling and cheering. Coxine bellowed for silence and the cheering quickly subsided. Paying no further attention to the three cadets, the pirate captain ordered his men to repair the hole in the air lock and prepare for immediate acceleration. There was a triumphant gleam in his eyes as he announced their destination. "With the Solar Guard on the other side of the belt, we're going to hit the richest prize in the universe! The colony on Ganymede!" He then turned and smiled at his three prisoners, adding menacingly, "And we've got three passes to get us through the defenses!" <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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