by Earl
Beneath its skin of metal lay the corridors and cells of the prison. There were only two entrances to this giant space penitentiary, both guarded. Even if a prisoner did happen to escape there was no place he could go without an oxy-helmet and spaceship. It was the most perfect prison of all time. In the century of its existence, there had been not one successful prison break. Prisoners brought there were all lifers, sentenced never to see Earth or any other planet again.
Jon Jarl was almost sorry as he passed by the prison and it began to recede behind him. It had at least occupied his thoughts for a moment. But suddenly, the cut-in switch of his space radio clicked and a voice spoke.
“Calling Space Patrol ship! This is Warden Krandell, of Prison Satellite! There has just been an attempted jailbreak! Come at once to North Lock!”
A jailbreak! Stunned at the unexpected news, Jon hastened to answer into his mike. “Lt Jon Jarl answering! Will come at once!”
Ten minutes later, after reversing his rockets, Jon slid his ship down into the yawning North Lock, which closed behind him like two huge alligator jaws of steel. The lock chamber was a huge space into which air was pumped automatically as soon as a ship landed. Then the inner doors, leading into the prison proper, would open. Jon stepped out and was greeted by the grave warden.
Jon spoke first. “How can anyone escape? I thought it was impossible.”
“They haven’t actually escaped yet,” returned Warden Krandell. “But three desperate killers have seized control of the South Lock. They have one Electric Pistol between them, but its charge will last long enough to hold off the guards for hours.”
“How did it happen?” Jon asked.
“Brains Cardigan was clever,” admitted the warden, as they took the elevator toward the South Lock. “He and his two pals pretended sickness and were taken to Sick Bay for examination. Sick Bay is near the South Lock. They waited till the doctor left and then jumped the guard, who thought they were ill and thus didn’t expect them to leap into action. They took his Electro-Gun, killed him, and made a dash for South Lock. They burned down two more guards on the way.”
They stepped from the elevator, and the warden pointed to a heavy door shut tight. “There’s the only door into the South Lock. Brains Cardigan and his two men are in there, holding it against all guards. My men tried to storm the place, but when five were wounded at the first sally, I knew it was no use.”
Jon smiled grimly. “But what good does it do them to hold the South Lock? They can’t leave. To really escape they have to have a spaceship.”
“That’s the worst of it,” groaned Krandell. “You see, a supply ship came in an hour before with food supplies from Earth. There was only one guard there at the time Brains Cardigan took over the Lock. So now the ship is in their hands.”
Jon was puzzled. “Why haven’t they flown away?”
“It isn’t as easy as that. The ships which bring supplies here have a special time lock on the door. After unloading, the time lock is set for the time of departure. No force on the universe can open that door before the time lock releases. Brains Cardigan has to wait another hour before the time lock will open and he can use the ship. If we don’t capture him within an hour, he’ll get away.”
“I could let him fly out,” mused Jon Jarl, “and then run him down out in space with my Patrol Ship.”
“No good.” The warden shook his head emphatically. “That supply ship has you out-gunned. That ship could fight it out with a battle cruiser. No, Lieutenant, we have to get Cardigan before the time lock opens.”
A grim silence followed, and then Jon Jarl drew his two pistols and barked orders. “You two guards—stand on either side of the door. Cover me with gunfire. I’m going in.”
At the patrolman’s signal, the warden pulled the lever which opened the lock door. The two guards tensed, and their weapons spat cover-up electro-bolts inward. Like a streak, the space policeman darted through the door, throwing himself flat.
Jon’s strategy was simple. He hoped to lie flat on his stomach, and with both pistols going, pick off the criminals before they got him. But almost instantly he saw it was useless. Cardigan and his two men lurked behind the supply ship in the huge lock chamber. Safely protected, the killer could shoot at Jon at his leisure.
“Yahhhhhhhh,” Brains Cardigan mocked. “So they brung in a Space Cop, eh? Well, sonny boy, come and get it.”
But Jon Jarl was not that fearless—or foolish. Guns blazing to disconcert the aim of the crooks, he wriggled back through the door ingloriously and heaved a sigh of relief as it banged shut before him.
“I knew it was no use doing that,” croaked the warden. “That’s how my men got wounded. Can you think of anything else?”
Jon Jarl slowly shook his head. The time lock on the ship would open in less than an hour. Brains Cardigan and his men would run the ship out—to freedom. It was as simple as that.
“Did you call Space Patrol Headquarters?” he asked.
The warden nodded. “Yes, but they can’t get a battle cruiser here in less than three hours. Yours was the only Space Patrol ship within range.”
“How about letting the air out of the lock room?”
“No good. There’s an emergency control inside which pumps air in as soon as the pressure falls. It’s made that way to protect the crews of visiting ships from the danger of decompression. Nobody suspected it would someday help jailbreakers as well.”
It all added up in favor of the criminals. Jon Jarl hated to admit it, but it looked like a stalemate. In less than an hour, the desperadoes would be free in space, unless . . .
Jon Jarl spoke rapidly to the warden, and a light of hope slowly sprang into the listening man’s eyes. It was a desperate plan, but it might work.
Brains Cardigan looked at the time lock of the ship. “Only fifteen more minutes, guys, and th’ door opens. Then we scoot. For th’ first time in history, a jailbreak is gonna be pulled out of Prison Satellite. Boy, we—”
One of the men interrupted, as a tumult sounded from below them—from the prison proper. Shouts and shots.
“Hey, sounds like some more guys tried a break.”
The noise continued for some minutes and then a grey streak dashed into the door of the South Lock. Cardigan took aim, but then paused as the grey figure wildly waved its arms.
“Don’t shoot!” the newcomer yelled. “It’s me—I’m a prisoner, too! Five of us tried another break while all the excitement was going on. Four of ’em got rayed down, but I got through!”
“Den four of us gets away,” crowed Cardigan. “But hey, how do we know dis guy—?” There was suspicion in his voice, but at that moment the time lock clicked loudly, and the ship’s airlock door swung open. With a yell of triumph, the prisoners all dashed into the ship, including the newcomer.
“There’s only one trouble,” growled Cardigan, as the rocket engine came to life. “None of us ever run a spaceship dis big.”
The newcomer interrupted, seating himself at the controls. “Lemme handle it, Cardigan. I was a pilot once. I’ll fly this crate for parts unknown.”
The rocketship zoomed out of the outer doors—operated by automatic photo-electric relays—and shot away from Prison Satellite. Within were three cheering criminals, wildly elated at having succeeded in a sensational escape.
Those cheers ended, abruptly, an hour later, as two battle cruisers of the Space Patrol loomed out of the void and brought big guns to bear on them.
“We was tricked!” yelled Cardigan. “Dis pilot ran us straight for th’ Patrol ships. He’s no prisoner! He’s—”
Jon Jarl grinned as he held the electro-pistol he had slipped from Cardigan’s belt moments before. “Lt. Jon Jarl of the Space Patrol,” he said. “First time I ever wore a prison suit. It scratches, you know?”
Jon waited till the stream of invective from the three criminals ran itself out, then added, “You had a nice joyride in space. But you’ll be back in your nice, cozy cells in an hour.”
>
THE DICTATOR OF SPACE
It was certainly the weirdest message that had ever come to Lieutenant Jon Jarl from headquarters.
“Lt. Jarl,” barked headquarters, “Check on Asteroid X-456. One Zan Kastorex claims he will blow it to bits at precisely 12 noon, Solar Time. He also claims he can blow up any planet in the solar system by remote control, and he has demanded that he be set up as dictator of the nine planets—or else he will blow every planet to shreds!”
“But sir,” protested Jon Jarl into his microphone. “He sounds like a crackpot to me.”
“Crackpot or not, go and watch Asteroid X-456. If Kastorex’s threat is sheer bluff, land on his own asteroid, X-457, and arrest him for disturbing the peace. That is all.”
Lt. Jon Jarl wheeled his ship around in space and set off at high velocity for the asteroids between Mars and Jupiter. Some hours later, he came to the first of the thousands of tiny planetoids and began tracing them on his map. Finally he was able to identify Asteroid X-456 and rocket close to it.
“It’s five minutes to noon,” Jon mused. “I’ll hover out in space here and see what happens, if anything.”
Suddenly a harsh, imperious voice crackled from his open radio speaker. “Attention, Space Patrol ship! Zan Kastorex, dictator of the Nine Planets, speaking! I am on X-457, the next asteroid. Through my telescope, I watched your ship approach. Observe closely, for my Kastorex Ray will blow X-456 to bits. Then come to my asteroid, X-457, and we will arrange the surrender of the Nine Planets. I have spoken.”
The voice clicked off.
“Of all the blithering nincompoops,” Jon muttered to himself. “Thinks he can pull a ridiculous bluff like that.”
But Jon was startled, at noon sharp when, with a soundless puff, Asteroid X-456 disintegrated before his eyes. Millions of tons of rock had been blown apart! Pieces of the blasted worldlet hurtled toward him, and Jon hastily spun away.
“Good heavens!” Jon breathed. “He wasn’t bluffing. He really can blow worlds apart!”
Jon headed his ship for Asteroid X-457, the headquarters of the would-be dictator. It was a larger body, perhaps 200 miles in diameter. He soon saw a glassine dome below, and slanted down for a landing beside it.
Jon donned his spacesuit. Stepping out on the almost airless little world, he strode to the dome.
A guard opened the airlock doors for Jon and then ushered him into the presence of a tall, bony, resplendently uniformed man with intense burning eyes. On either side of him was a huge guard, also in uniform.
“I am Zan Kastorex,” announced the tall man. “You will now surrender.”
“I will not,” returned Jon Jarl evenly. “I’ve come here to arrest you.”
Kastorex smiled, devilishly. “Guards, disarm him.”
This was the moment to act. Jon whipped out his twin ray guns with flashing speed. He could easily knock the guns out of the hands of the slow-moving guards. Then he saw the peephole in the wall, and a third guard’s gun poking through. Slowly he lowered his weapons. Kastorex had him!
“I was prepared for your resistance,” Kastorex said with a grin. “As easily as I’ve captured you, and blown up X-456, so will I take over rule of this solar system.”
“You’re still bluffing,” Jon said calmly. “You might have had a prepared atomic bomb buried on X-456, timed to go off at noon. All this poppycock about a Kastorex Ray—”
“You don’t believe yet?” Kastorex barked. “I’ll give you another demonstration. Follow me.”
The two guards, having taken Jon’s guns, now hustled him along, as they followed Kastorex into another room of the dome—a room filled with a giant machine that hummed and glowed with strange, powerful energies.
“Look through this telescope.” Kastorex ordered Jon. “Pick out any asteroid you want. I couldn’t have atomic bombs planted on all of them.”
Jon peered through the telescope and picked out another asteroid. It was Y-667 on Kastorex’s chart.
“Keep watching in the telescope,” ordered Kastorex, moving dials and controls on his giant machine. “You will see Y-667 also blow apart before your eyes—NOW!”
Jon heard the machine give out a shrill, high whine, and at the same instant, the asteroid smashed apart. Jon gasped. Kastorex wasn’t bluffing at all! He had some diabolical way of blowing up worlds from a distance.
“It took me 25 years to build this machine,” Kastorex boasted. “The ray which it shoots causes all iron atoms to explode into atomic energy through a chain reaction. And all worlds have iron in them. Thus, when the iron atoms blow up, the rest of that world goes with it.”
It was horrible—devilish—frightening.
Kastorex droned on. “Now do you see why Earth must surrender to me? Because if it doesn’t, I will simply aim my Kastorex Ray for Earth and blow it to shreds like these asteroids!”
“No—you fiend—you can’t—!” groaned Jon.
“But you can save Earth,” Kastorex chortled. “Sit down at my radio and tell Earth to surrender. You will repeat after me . . .”
At the point of a gun, Jon sat at the radio and spoke.
“Attention, Space Patrol Headquarters! Lt. Jon Jarl calling. Zan Kastorex is not bluffing. He blew apart two asteroids with his long-range ray. He gives Earth 24 hours to surrender. If Earth does not surrender in 24 hours, he will destroy it.”
It was the most deadly trap ever devised by the human mind. Jon almost reeled as he stood up.
“You are free for 24 hours,” Kastorex said. “I will let you live till Earth surrenders so you can see that humiliating event. Then I’ll kill you as I will later purge the whole Space Patrol.”
Jon left the dome in his spacesuit. He was free to wander around, but not to leave the asteroid. He saw a grim guard before his rocketship, ray gun in hand. Jon knew Zan Kastorex would become the dictator of all the planets, unless . . .
Jon’s mind whirled in desperate thought. There was one slim hope. But to carry out his plan, he had to get back in his ship. Jon idly picked up a stone the size of his fist and hurled it straight up into the sky. Because of the asteroid’s light gravity, the stone would fly up several miles before it came down.
Then Jon approached the guard.
“Look!” yelled Jon. “Behind you! Space Patrol men!”
The guard laughed. “Boy, what an old one! I don’t bite on things like that.”
“I figured you wouldn’t,” Jon said glumly.
But at that moment, a dull sound thudded in the thin atmosphere behind the guard. As he whirled instinctively, Jon leaped and felled him with one terrific blow.
“Tricked him,” Jon muttered in elation. “That sound he heard was the stone I threw up in the sky landing back on the ground!”
Jon leaped into his ship and zoomed up with a roar of rockets. As he expected, a voice boomed from his radio.
“Pretty smart,” gloated Kastorex. “I’m glad you made a run for it. Because now I can shoot you down with the Kastorex Ray.”
Looking back at the dome, Jon saw the flashes from the ray machine. If the ray hit him and exploded the iron atoms of his ship. Jon would be doomed. Desperately, he twisted the ship from side to side as he sped away. But the deadly ray-charges came nearer and nearer. Kastorex was playing with him.
But Jon was also playing a game—a road game. Several miles from the dome, he suddenly shot downward toward the asteroid’s surface. His maneuver brought the asteroid’s horizon between him and the dome, thus protecting him. But as he dived the ray followed him relentlessly, almost touched him—but not quite. The ray glanced off a small hill, behind which Jon had zoomed.
The next instant was an inferno. A gigantic blast cracked the whole asteroid apart. The concussion hurled Jon’s ship around like a cork in a whirlwind.
Minutes later, his dizzy senses swam back, and he realized he was alive. He had not planned to come out alive. But he had planned for the destruction of X-457. Kastorex had been so eager to shoot Jon down that he had not notice
d till too late that Jon had dived below the horizon. Thus the ray had hit the asteroid itself. And like all other bodies in space, the asteroid had iron atoms in it.
Jon straightened up, steadied his ship, and set course for home. Then he aimed his radio beam for Earth.
“Attention, headquarters! Lt. Jon Jarl calling! Ignore ultimatum of Zan Kastorex. He and his asteroid just blew up. That is all. Signing off.”
TREASURE ON SATURN
Lt. Jon Jarl of the Space Patrol reported to Saturnian Headquarters on his routine tour of the planets. The Space Police Station was located on Titan, the largest of Saturn’s eleven moons.
“Yes, we have a case for you,” said the captain. “A prospector, Tim Allison, has been missing for a month. He went out among Saturn’s rings. See if you can locate him, Lieutenant.”
Jon was surprised. “What in the universe would a prospector be doing among Saturn’s rings?”
The captain smiled. “He had a crazy idea that he would find gold or diamonds there! You see, the rings of Saturn are composed of millions of tiny bodies, circling the planet. Most of them no bigger than rocks. Tim had the hunch that some of them might be lumps of pure gold, or even big jewels. So he went to look for them. A crackpot of course. He went to Sector B.”
Saluting, Jon Jarl left the station, checked his fuel, and then took off in his one-man rocketship. He set his course inward from Titan, to where the mother planet hung like a huge moon in space. An hour later, he reached the outer fringe of the rings and could see they were composed of a myriad of tiny whirling bodies.
Theory had it that the closest moon to Saturn had blown apart, through gravitational stress, and formed the rings. They were the dust and debris of a small world. Jon could see all sorts of strange bodies whirl by in their orbits—bits of petrified wood, black coal, even fossil bones. Mainly they were plain rocks, however. Still, could Tim Allison’s odd idea be right? Could lumps of valuable material also exist among the useless bits of an exploded world?