Mystery of the Third Mine

by Robert Lowndes

  So this is what it feels like, he thought. It didn’t hurt; it felt more as if he were outside himself, watching. His suit wasn’t penetrated, and he saw the surface of Asteroid 20-47 moving up to meet him. He saw other spots of light around him, then weariness washed over him in a wave that carried him away.

  Chapter 16 Is This Your Law?

  t was like coming out of a series of dreams that were very close to reality. It was as if he wanted to get up, but couldn't quite make it, so he fell asleep again and dreamed he was arising. Peter opened his eyes finally. His head cleared, and he knew that he was lying on a pallet inside one of the pressure tents. His suit was close by, and a communication unit rested beside him.

  He could hear Abend s voice, saying, “Poor fellow can't last very long. It's something of a miracle that he's still alive.”

  I've been shot, Peter thought. But it couldn't be that bad. He wiggled his fingers and toes experimentally, started to breathe deeply. He could think clearly, but he still felt tired. He heard Laura say, “Those films you showed us while we were waiting, Mr. Abend—they aren't the only copies, are they?”

  “No, Kreuder has several more. I’d hoped to get through to Mars with them, though.”

  “I—I don’t know if Uncle Jeff realizes that we’ve seen them. They’d better be destroyed, just in case.. «

  “They’re back in the Claymore now. Webster won't get them unless he gets all of us.”

  Clay’s voice came through, as Peter looked around and found himself alone. “This fellow wants to talk.” Pete realized now that they were referring to someone else. He sighed in relief. It must be one of the attackers, whom he’d believed to be dead. Then Laura’s voice came through.

  “Heber, we can’t do more for you. We’ve done all we could, but it’s only a matter of time. How about doing something for us?”

  The other man’s voice was faint but distinct. He must be in one of the other pressure tents. “I’ll . . . I’ll tell you what I know, Miss Webster, if that will help any. And if you can get word to my brother back on Mars . . >

  “We will if we can. We’ll tell him you had an accident.”

  “Thanks. I ... I never realized what I was getting into, Miss Webster. When I came back, I thought I could make up for my mistakes by joining the Miners’ Guard. They told me that a number of exiles were also working for Ama, and it looked pretty good. I never suspected anything until I ran across Red Cantrellis.”

  “Who’s that?” asked Laura in a puzzled voice. “I’ve gone through the records, but I never heard of anyone named Cantrellis in Ama.”

  “He isn't ... in Ama. Red Cantrellis used to work in the Claims Office when old Yerxa was there. He handled most of the work, and Yerxa didn't know what was going on . . . figured he was about ready to retire anyway, I suppose.

  “Well, it all started when I was down on my luck. I went there one day to look over the reports, and I’d just about decided to go on Public Duty for a while. Red took me aside and said he'd let me have a special tip, for a cut in the mine. I couldn't take it up, didn't have the equipment for that kind of prospecting. So Red said he knew of a rich mine not too far out. He'd let me know when the owner was away—the fellow was planning to go to Mars for a short vacation. I turned him down, but when he called me that night, I was ready to try it.

  “After that it was too easy. Red and his friends kept me and other pilferers posted on when owners were away from their claims. When we started to get enough to pay our debts, he fed us inside information he'd held back from the general notices.

  “Then one day he comes up with a real proposition. ‘If you were to file on this mine,' he says, showing me the layout, ‘it could be that the original filing wouldn't stand up for certification.' He didn't say more, but I could figure out what was going on. They were starting to tamper with the records, then selling information for what they could get. Only this was a conspiracy to steal claims outright. Well, it worked out. He was smart enough not to crowd me too far, only demanded twenty-five per cent as his cut. But I got careless and a little greedy, I guess. Anyway, they caught me pilfering and sent me back to Mars.''

  “And what happened to Cantrellis?"

  “He skipped—they all skipped out when Mars somehow got wind of what was going on and sent Kreuder in to clean it up. They all got together, had a base on 20-85, and organized jumping and pilfering. It was pretty clever. They never tried to take too much at a time, and only attacked a miner when he was alone.” Laura gasped, “And—and you mean my uncle knows all about this?”

  “Red told me a lot,” Heber said. “He knew it was safe, I imagine. When Ama started, he tried to block it at first. Then he had an idea. He went to Webster with an offer. He'd give him all the information on the dirty work in the Claims Office and general reports on mines that he’d never put into the official files. Webster was to lay off him and give a clean bill of health to his outfit. In return, they'd set things up for Ama by making sure there were plenty of incidents where the Miners' Aid could show off. They'd help run down pilferers and jumpers who were operating on their own. So the guard has never bothered Red or his gang.” “Who else knows about this?” Abend wanted to know.

  “Only Webster and Vincennes—Joe's his liaison man. Ogden was working for them, too, but he gummed things up and was learning too much. My guess is that he wouldn't have come out of this fight alive even if you hadn’t gotten him. He made a mess of Belt Insurance-all his talk about tricky legalities. Red hadn’t planned that as something Ama could grab glory by stopping. . . . Anyway, he made a deal with Webster . ..”

  There were more coughs, then Heber's voice continued. “I wouldn't say anything, and Red knew it. I knew more than was good for me, and had to play dumb. But I've been wondering who's really using whom. Red thinks he has your uncle in the palm of his hand, Miss. He thinks Webster's really just a front for Cantrellis. But my guess is that your uncle’s the smarter of the two. He’s been going along with Red, sure, but once Ama is strong enough, he’ll clean Cantrellis’ band out. He won’t play second fiddle in any quartet."

  “So that’s it." breathed Abend. “Yes, it all fits in. Staged battles with phony jumpers while the real ones are let alone, and all the rest of the show. We’re caught in the middle of a struggle for power."

  “Heber," Laura asked, “is—Captain Ezzard part.. “No, Miss. Ezzard’s as honest as they come; so’s most of the guard. There are one or two of Cantrellis' men in each unit to keep tabs on what’s up."

  Clay added, “Your uncle’s a fanatic, Laura. He redoubles his efforts after he's forgotten his aim. He told me he'd stop at nothing to establish Ama firmly, and I believed him. Maybe he'll do just that, but he’ll never be able to cut loose from the corruption. What about Vincennes, Heber? Where does he fit in?”

  “Out for what he can get. You can trust him so long as you're winning, but if anything really goes wrong, then look out. He's tricky as a rogue.”

  “Just what I told my partner,” Clay remarked.

  “If ... if you want my advice." Heber's voice came faintly all of a sudden, “don't. . . don't take any offer from Webster. Stall for ., . time. He's got time against him now. . . . Has to clean up before the Patrol discovers too much. .. . Stall... . Call in the Patrol... T Heber's voice died away, and Abend muttered, “He's gone. Well, the fellow squared it, all right. If we get out of this, well say he was working on our side."

  Peter s head was clear now. He started to get to his feet as the inner tent-wall zipped open and Barbara Abend came in. These tents were constructed on the air-lock principle. “Feeling better, young Mister Lazy? Nice and soft you have it while the rest of us are sweating it out. Good. Now get into the suit and leave space for another patient.”

  "Someone else hurt?”

  “Not yet, but who knows when?”

  "What happened, Barb? Was I shot? I don't remember—thought the battle was over and we beat them off.”

  “Oh, sure, those sand fleas jumped away
as soon as they found out they had some real opposition. But you, you dumbheads! You let them plant springs with pellets in them that will go off while you're standing around congratulating yourselves, and they're safe up in the ship already. Such brains we have here—I could spit."

  “Was anyone else ..

  “Nope, only you, Pete. Isn't that enough worry for me? Now get out and help the masterminds fall into the soup. And, Petey, don't get mixed up with a girl if she makes like a genius.”

  Pete laughed. “That sounds like a dig at Bjomsen." He put on his helmet and turned on the communicator. “What about Laura Webster?”

  Barbara Abend grinned and blinked. “Stupid—but nice!”

  "Don't get restless, partner,” Clay was saying, “that's Webster's game.” Time was dragging endlessly as they waited by the communicator. A sentry reported again that nothing was happening outside.

  Laura seemed to have recovered from the shock. Her voice no longer had a numb quality about it when she spoke. When Peter could see her face, he noted the flash in her eyes. She seemed most angry about the trick which had resulted in his being knocked out.

  "I say we shouldn't compromise." she said for the third time. “He's a madman, and he's out to murder us all. Just wait until he calls us; I'll give him something to think about!"

  “No news from Kreuder or the Patrol?" asked Peter.

  “Haven't raised them," Glen said.

  “Hello, Gideon! Hello, Gideon!" burst out the communicator. “Can you hear me? Answer, Gideon; this is Ama!"

  Glen sniffed as he replied. “Speaking, Webster. Had enough?"

  “Enough of your impertinence! Now, listen. I’m giving you one last chance to save your skin, and I advise you to take it. Get off this asteroid, give us no more trouble, and we'll let bygones be bygones. You got three of my men. They broke the truce without orders, so that evens us up. They'll answer for that planted-spring trick, if that is any satisfaction to you. Leave now, and you can leave in peace. Defy me, and you'll be branded outlaws. The Miners' Guard and Martian Patrol will hunt you down, with orders to shoot on sight!"

  Before Glen could reply, Laura snatched the microphone out of his hand. “Is this your law, Uncle Jeff?”

  There was a moment's silence, then Webster's voice sputtered back, “Laura! Where—what—why you—you thieves! You've kidnaped my niece!"

  “No, they haven't!" she snapped back. “I'm here voluntarily. I asked you a question, Uncle Jeff. Is this your law?”

  “Gideon." came back the reply. "Or Abend, as you prefer, I know when the hand is against me. My niece means more to me than any possible loss of face. Send her out, and I guarantee immunity to all of you. Ill lift protection from this asteroid at once, and promise that Vincennes will withdraw his blanket filing.” “Whats the alternative, Webster? Suppose we don’t want to make a deal with the King of Thieves?” “You’re in no position to give me orders or make insults! I can smash you where you stand. Tell your sentry to report what he sees. ... I know you have a sentry, so don’t bother to deny it.”

  The communicator clicked as Webster cut the connection. A moment later Karkannian’s voice came through from outside. “He isn’t bluffing, Glen. He’s got searchlights sweeping this entire area. He could bombard us from the ship if he wanted to take his time.”

  “You see,” came Webster’s voice again. “And that is only part of it. I’ve called up the guard cruisers. They’ll be waiting for you if you try to change your mind and escape after it’s too late. I see you’ve camouflaged your ships. Very clever, but not good enough. We have infrawave and ultrawave searchlights too. It'll take time, but we can spot them all eventually, and destroy them on the ground. You’ll be marooned here until you’re ready to give up.

  “Don’t imagine you’ll get the chance to make any glorious last stand, Abend, or that you’ll take any of us with you. The guard’s duty is to smash thieves and kidnapers, not to get itself killed. We were overconfident before—I admit it—-and made a fatal error for some of us. That won't happen again."

  "If you murder them, you'll have to murder me, too, Uncle Jeff,” Laura answered.

  "So you’ve tortured the girl, have you! You don’t deserve any consideration, but I’ve given my word . . .”

  "That's a lie!” she burst in. “I have not been tortured or mistreated in any way by these people. You're trying to brand them as criminals because they know you for what you are.”

  Webster's voice had a pleading quality in it now. “Laura, child, have courage. I know how you have suffered, but I shall put an end to all this.” His tone harshened again. "As for the rest of you, we'll have a little object lesson, so you can see that I'm not bluffing!”

  Again there was silence. They waited for Karkannian's voice. "They have something peculiar pointed at one of the ships—looks like a miniature rocket-bow, with half a dozen tubes.”

  "I think I know what they'll do, Mish,” said Abend. “Are you covered?”

  “Yes.” There was another wait in silence, then Karkannian gasped. "Pellets—must be hundreds of them hitting the ship all over. Some missing, most of them hits. The tubes are full of holes already and they’re still hitting. That's how they do it, Glen. That ship is finished. Even if the tubes weren't wrecked, the air lock's sprung, and there’s a puncture in the hull where half a dozen pellets landed together!” Abend turned to Clay and the others. "Ill take a vote. This may mean the end of us, here and very soon, if we try to wait it out. I still haven’t been able to raise the Patrol.”

  “Can the Patrol help?” Peter wanted to know.

  “I’m calling as Kreuder’s aide. . . . Peg, did you get down all of the conversation with Webster?”

  "All there,” the Bjomsen girl answered. “This will prove who is guilty.”

  There was a short silence, then Ben Black looked around. “Anyone for clearing out? You may be wiser than the rest of us, if you go while there’s a chance. Let’s make it a show of hands.”

  Tom Honoye said dryly, “Well, it’d be nice to live to fight another day, if we could be sure that Webster would keep his word.” He turned to Laura. “Sorry if I sound brutal, but do you think he would?”

  “Don’t apologize. I know Uncle Jeff now—I guess I’ve known him all along, but wouldn’t let myself see it. Yes, he’ll keep the letter of his word, but how far will this ‘immunity’ go? When he says something you can depend on that much, but you can’t know what he isn’t saying.” Her voice sank. “He promises ‘immunity’ from the Ama Guard, but he didn’t say anything about Cantrellis’ men.”

  No hands went up.

  “Well, Abend,” came Webster’s voice. “I’m sure you and your friends have come to your senses by now. Are you ready to leave?”

  Clay picked up the microphone. “Webster, you may recall a conversation we had in my apartment. I repeat now what I said then—your means shape your ends. You’ve used criminal means, and your ends can’t possibly be anything but corrupt, whatever you say or think about them.

  "We’re staying here, and we’re making no deals with thievery.” He cut the connection. “Let him rave to himself now, if he wants. We need this system open to try to get the Patrol. It’ll take time for Webster to spot all our ships and knock them out. He can’t get more than one or two on each passage, even if he does spot some every time a fighter goes over. We’ve just got to sit tight and hope the Patrol arrives,” “Anyway,” said Glen, “this tape will finish him, even if he does finish us.”

  “Darling,” said Barbara, “I am so comforted I don’t know if I can stand it. Won’t you please ease my dying hours by explaining to me gently how the record will get to the Martian Patrol after we have been done in?”

  “Why that’s perfectly simple, my dear,” Glen replied, lifting a gloved finger. “We will . . . we . . . hm-m-m. You know, that’s a good question.”

  “If you were only intelligent as well as brave . , '' she sighed. “But then you would be someone else. Better we should be togethe
r now.”

  “I wonder,” mused Clay. “Do you suppose he’s convinced himself that you really were kidnaped, Laura?”

  She nodded slowly. “I—I think he has. Uncle Jeff has a flair for being perfectly justified in whatever he does.”

  “I’m not happy about the thought of dying here,” Clay went on, “and I feel worse about the thought of dying for no purpose. If there were some way of getting these proofs out, then the rest of us would feel we had something more solid to fight for.”

  Laura went to the communicator. “I—I think I have an idea. . . . Mish,” she called. “Mish Karkannian, are there any ships around?”

  "They have guard cruisers circling the asteroid in between the fighters, playing lights all over. We can’t make a move without being seen.”

  “Thanks.” She turned to the others, her face aglow. “They can see us, but all they see is suits. They can't tell who’s inside a suit from that distance. Suppose they saw someone being taken to a ship—someone who was struggling and calling for help. They’d follow that ship, wouldn’t they?”

  "You mean,” Glen asked, “a real kidnaping?”

  "Sort of. I’ll stay here, but they wouldn’t know that/’

  Peter said, “Yeah, but Webster might suspect it was just a trick to draw off his cruisers.”

  “Even if he did, he’d still have the ship followed. . . . Quiet, everyone. Let’s see if he’s trying to tell us anything.” She clicked on the communicator, and Webster’s voice was saying, , , . worry, my dear. We’ll have you safe soon. They won’t dare hurt you. Laura, if you can hear me, don’t . . .!" She clicked it off.

  “I think it’s worth trying.”

  “Oh, wunderbar! Such lovely games we play now. We shoot off a ship, and zoom, out goes one or two of his ships. Then they catch our ship . . . and surprise!” Barbara Abend sighed.

  “That’s it!” Peter cried. “Games! Look, instead of letting him wonder if it’s a trick, why not let him know? Only we won’t send out just one ship. We’ll let him see a ‘captive’ taken aboard each one of the ships here, and they’ll all take off in different directions. He’ll have to chase them all. Then you’ll have a real diversion.”