"What! You mean--" stammered Roger.
"Yes. Loring and Mason did the whole thing!" supplied Tom.
"Look, Tom," pleaded Roger, "give me ten minutes. Don't fire for ten minutes! I'm going to try an idea. If I'm not successful, then open up and blast us back to Mars!"
"Roger, wait!" shouted Tom. "What's going on? What're you doing on that ship?"
"I can't talk now," answered Roger. "Loring and Mason are on the ship with me. Remember--ten minutes--and if I don't contact you, then open fire!"
CHAPTER 13
Roger flipped off the teleceiver. He stared at the darkened screen and began estimating the chances of success for a plan he had in mind.
Deciding that, regardless of what happened, he had to take over the ship, he got up and turned toward the hatch and the gun locker. He stopped cold. Loring stood framed in the doorway, a paralo-ray gun in each hand.
"Just stand right where you are, s.p.a.ceboy!" snapped Loring. "You want ten minutes, huh? Ten minutes for what? I thought there was something funny going on when we missed the _Polaris_ with that bomb!"
"You knew all along I didn't have anything to do with that crash back on the station, didn't you?" shouted Roger. His eyes blazed angrily.
"Yeah. So what?" growled Loring. "Hey, Mason," he yelled over his shoulder, "get up here in a hurry! We gotta work fast!"
"What are you going to do?" asked Roger.
"You're still valuable to us, Manning," said Loring with a crooked grin.
"You're going to ensure our getting what we came after!"
Mason stepped through the door. "Yeah, Loring?"
Loring quickly told him of Roger's attempt to work with Connel.
"Take our s.p.a.ceboy down below and lock him in a storage compartment." He handed over one of the paralo-ray guns, and Mason shoved the muzzle into Roger's stomach.
"Get moving, Manning!" he snarled. "I'd like nothing better than to let you have it right now!"
Roger smiled, knowing Mason still harbored a grudge for the beating he had taken earlier on the trip.
"When you have him locked up, get back on the control deck," said Loring. "We're going to do some old-fashioned bargaining with 'Blast-off' Connel!"
"Bargaining?" exclaimed Roger.
"Yeah! One slightly used s.p.a.ce Cadet for what we came after--the copper satellite!"
"Connel won't bargain," said Roger. "Not for me, not for anything. You don't know him!"
"I know this, Manning!" said Loring. "I'm going to get on the teleceiver and tell Connel that if he doesn't blast away from here _right now_, you're a dead s.p.a.ce Cadet!" He jerked his head toward the door. "All right, take him below and tell Shinny to stand by on the power deck. In case Connel won't bargain, we'll have to make a run for it!"
"Right," said Mason as he shoved the paralo-ray gun deeper into Roger's stomach. "Move, Manning!"
Roger climbed down the ladder and through the long pa.s.sageway of the _s.p.a.ce Devil_. He pa.s.sed Shinny on the way down.
"What's going on here?" demanded Shinny, seeing Mason with the paralo-ray gun.
"We missed with the bomb," said Mason, "and Connel raised ship. He's ready to blast us if we don't surrender right away. Loring's trying to make a deal with him."
"What kind of a deal?" asked Shinny.
"Hot-shot Manning for the satellite!"
"He hasn't told you everything, Mr. Shinny," said Roger in his casual drawl. "They are the ones who caused the crash of the _Annie Jones_ and the deaths of Jardine and Bangs. They framed me!"
"Then," mused Shinny, "you're cleared?"
"Yeah," growled Mason, "he's cleared! Cleared for a long swim in s.p.a.ce if Connel doesn't do what Loring tells him! Get in there!" Mason shoved Roger into the cramped storage compartment. He locked the door and turned to Shinny.
"Loring wants you to stand by the power deck in case Connel won't play ball. We might have to make a run for it."
"Yeah, yeah," said Shinny, "I'll stand by the power deck."
Mason turned and walked away. Shinny followed him, a curious gleam in his eyes.
Up on the control deck, Loring was twisting the dials in front of the teleceiver screen.
"_s.p.a.ce Devil_ to _Polaris_--_s.p.a.ce Devil_ to _Polaris_--come in, _Polaris_." He twisted another dial and watched the darkened screen anxiously. After a moment the screen blurred, and Tom's face gradually came into sharp focus.
"Loring!" gasped Tom. "Where's Roger?"
"Never mind him, you punk!" snarled Loring. "Tell that fatheaded Connel I wanta talk to him! Make it fast!"
Tom's face disappeared to be replaced by the raging features of Major Connel. "You murdering s.p.a.ce rat!" he roared. "I've given you two minutes to surrender and, by the craters of Luna, you've only got thirty seconds left!"
"It'll only take ten seconds to tell you that if you don't get outta here Cadet Manning gets blasted!"
"What?" roared Connel.
"That's right," snarled Loring. "You're the one that's got thirty seconds to get out of here, or Manning takes a swim in s.p.a.ce!"
"Why, you--" Connel's face was twisted with rage. "You can't threaten me!"
"I ain't threatening you," said Loring, "_I'm telling you!_ If you don't get started, you'll never see Manning again. Or if you do, you won't recognize him! Now make up your mind, Connel!"
The Solar Guard officer hesitated. "Give me two minutes," he said, "and I'll call you back. Two minutes."
"Two minutes," repeated Loring, "and if I don't hear from you by then, or if you try any funny stuff, Manning gets it!"
Aboard the _Polaris_, the screen darkened, and Connel, his fists clenched, turned to Tom.