Anders listened as she unfolded her plan. When he spoke again there was less of doubt in his voice and a respectful admiration in his eyes.
“Miss Miller, I like your plan and I agree to it for one reason only. It has an advantage over anything I could attempt. Skeel suspects me now, and will see to it that any future assignment he accepts is fool-proof; but your idea might turn that very caution against him.”
“I hope so. And you needn’t worry about me. I know most of those big rocks in the asteroid belt well enough.”
“All right. At least I can set the stage for you, and I wish I could do more.” Anders looked at her with a sudden new interest, admiring the firm line of her chin, the trimness of her space uniform, the hard bold blueness of her eyes which he imagined could easily be soft on less drastic occasions than this. With an effort he brought his mind back to the immediate problem. “It will be at least a week from now. Ceres is no place for you, but since you’re here I suggest you go over to Ceres City, the mining town on the other side of our little planet. I’ll keep in touch with you and let you know just when to pick up your solo cruiser. Okay? Goodbye for now—and good luck!”
FOR three days Anders haunted the helio tower, doggedly flashing signals in the direction of Ganymede, currently the nearest of Jupiter’s satellites. Their entire plan would depend on how soon the Ganymede Base received these signals. Sometimes atmospheric conditions weren’t right and it took days to get a message through.
He was lucky. On the third day he received the answering flash that told him his signal had been picked up. Quickly he checked the orbital positions of both planets, then sighted the huge silvery screens carefully and locked them into place. Manipulating the shields with expert fingers, Anders began his message.
HELLO GANYMEDE. CERES
BASE SENDING. ANSWER!
Minutes later it came:
CONDITIONS OKAY. GANYMEDE BASE SENDING. GO AHEAD CERES.
Anders’ fingers were lightning fast as he operated the rows of levers controlling the solar shields. He tried to be terse, for there was no time to waste and it took minutes for a message to cross such vast reaches of space.
MOST IMPORTANT. WANT ANY AVAILABLE NEWS ON THE LONELY ONE. HIS LAST KNOWN WHEREABOUTS PRESENT POSITION AND ACTIVITIES.
ANDERS.
Anders’ fingers were lightning fast as operated the rows of levers controlling exertion. Usually it took a two-man crew to manipulate those shields. He smoked a cigarette as he awaited the answer.
Minutes later it came, transmitted into little electric flashes on the screen above his head. WHAT GOES ON? THAT PIRATE IS OUR MEAT SO HANDS OFF. ESCAPED OUR TRAP TWO WEEKS AGO BUT IS NOW BELIEVED OPERATING FROM SECRET CALLISTO BASE. HE’S OURS! SPURLIN.
Anders leaped for the levers and threw the following message:
THREE DAYS FROM NOW FLASH NEWS HERE THAT THE LONELY ONE IS HEADED BELTWARD. MUST SOUND AUTHENTIC BUT DO NOT TRANSMIT TO EARTH HEADQUARTERS. PERSONAL FAVOR. EXPLAIN LATER.
The answer read:
OKAY ANDERS YOU’LL GET YOUR MESSAGE BUT I HOPE YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND I’LL WANT THAT EXPLANATION. DID I EVER TELL YOU THE ONE ABOUT—
The little flashes on the screen continued, but Anders didn’t stay to watch. He descended the tower stairs and found Lohss, the regular helio man, over in the barracks.
“Okay,” he told Lohss. He had explained to him that he was merely making a routine check-up on the equipment. When the message about the Lonely One came he wanted it to be a distinct surprise to every man here.
IT WAS. It came three and a half days later. Lohss shoved excitedly into Anders’ little office, waving one of the official helio pads.
“Here’s something I thought you ought to see right away, Commander.”
Anders read the message:
ATTENTION CERES BASE! MARS-BOUND FREIGHTER FROM GANYMEDE MINES RAMMED AND LOOTED. HANDIWORK OF THE LONELY ONE. HE IS HEADING TOWARD THE ASTEROIDS. SOLID BLACK ONE-MAN CRUISER AS USUAL. FULL ARMAMENT. GET BUSY AND GOOD LUCK!
Anders smiled to himself and was grateful to Spurlin over on Ganymede for coming through so nicely.
Soon Ceres Base was ringing with the news. Every man there had dreamed of being some day sent on the Lonely One mission. To bring in that famous pirate would be a feather in anyone’s cap, and would mean immediate promotion. Consequently it was with mumblings of displeasure that the men saw Jim Skeel stalk arrogantly into Commander Anders’ office.
“Good morning, sir. You sent for me?”
“I did, Skeel. I guess you’ve heard the news about the Lonely One. Want to make a try for him? Just the job for you.” The tinge of contempt in Anders’ voice didn’t go unnoticed.
Nor did the little hint of cunning that he couldn’t keep out of his eyes. Skeel said:
“You never were anxious to send me out before, Commander. This couldn’t be some plan of yours to get rid of me?” He smiled a little but there was no humor in it.
“It doesn’t matter this time, Skeel. There’s a dead or alive warrant on the Lonely One. But I don’t mind telling you this is the chance I’ve been waiting for! You’re a killer and so is the Lonely One. I’ll be praying that he gets you first, so the Patrol will be rid of scum like you.”
Skeel’s eyes narrowed. “When do I leave?”
“Soon’s you can get your cruiser ready. You’re sure you want to handle this alone? You can select a crew, up to six men.”
Skeel laughed aloud. “Do you think any of ’em would ride with me? Don’t worry, Anders, I’ll bring back the Lonely One—alive.”
“You needn’t pretend with me any more, Skeel.”
“Very well, sir. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye—but not good luck.” Anders ignored the proffered hand. Skeel stiffened, then turned and strode for the door, exiting quickly.
Anders sank back in his chair, procured a cigarette and lit it thoughtfully. Now the doubts were beginning to crowd in. Nadia Miller had been overwrought and full of revenge. Suppose she did know the asteroids as well as she knew her own library? Skeel did, too, and he was ruthless and cunning. Suppose she did have the fastest cruiser this side of Mars? Skeel was the best solo spaceman in the Patrol.
Anders viciously ground out the burning end of his cigarette. He thought of Nadia Miller’s tense but pretty face again, her trim figure and bright hair and hard blue eyes that he wanted to see soft. If anything happened to that girl—
But there was nothing he could do now. Nothing, except face an agony of waiting.
CHAPTER III
JIM SKEEL leaped to his controls, as the Visipanel came to life with a tiny gash of flame that tore a hole in the blackness of space. That would be the Lonely One again! Feverishly he changed his course in a sharp parabola toward the rocket blasts far ahead.
He would keep that ship within range this time! Reaching to the V-panel, he twisted the magnifying dial. The blackness swam and expanded. The tiny orange rocket blasts seemed to leap backward at him. He had to look closely to distinguish the outline of the ship, but then he grunted with satisfaction. It was the solid black solo cruiser, all right. It bore absolutely no insignia, strictly against the Space Code.
Skeel grinned through his weariness. For more than twenty hours he had played hide and seek with that elusive black cruiser. He could never quite get within beam range, and sometimes he lost it out of his V-panel altogether.
Once it had led him straight into the Kennison Group of asteroids, a vast expanse of treacherous rocks with wild, eccentric orbits. This was sheer suicide for cruisers as tiny as theirs, minus the repulsion plates to shunt the rock masses from them. Skeel, in a cold sweat of horror, had finally given up the chase. He had laboriously circled the entire Kennison Group, and now—
Now he had picked up the Lonely One again! He couldn’t deny a thrill of admiration as he realized the black ship must have threaded its way entirely through the Kennison Group! Well, he would not lose it again. It was still out of beam range but he should be able to keep it centered in his V-panel.
Skeel threw over the lever feeding his tubes full blast. He exulted at the new fierce surge of power as his ship leaped ahead. But this time the Lonely One didn’t try to outrace him! The black ship came nearer and nearer. Skeel’s eyes narrowed. The pirate was supposed to have a much faster ship than his! Could this be some trick? He twisted the magnifying dial again, bringing his quarry more sharply into focus.
Then Skeel laughed aloud, laughed exultantly as he saw the reason for the other’s lack of speed. The black cruiser was limping along on but four rocket tubes! Two other tubes, on the starboard side, were smashed and mangled hopelessly. Apparently the pirate hadn’t come through that asteroid swarm unscathed after all!
THIS was the break for which Skeel had been waiting. Calmly now with deadly precision he sighted his forward electro-gun control. His fingers leaped to the distance gauge and set the charge to its fullest power. He heard the increasing whine of the coils. Still his gaze was riveted on the V-panel dial, watching the rapidly diminishing distance. Two hundred miles. One hundred. Fifty. There! Electrobeams were deadly at that distance. He glanced at the sights, saw they were perfect… and depressed the forward electro-button.
A crackling, radiant blue beam lashed
