Chapter 10

“It will take weeks to repair it!”

Professor Hemmingwell stood on the main deck of the giant spaceship staring sadly at the mess of wires and tubes, controls and gauges, switches and filaments, all shattered and useless.

“When did it happen?” demanded Connel.

“Less than half an hour ago,” replied Dave Barret. “Professor Hemmingwell and I were down at the far end of the hangar. The men had just left for the day and we were planning the work for tomorrow.”

“Then what happened?” demanded Connel. “Wait, don’t answer yet!” He stopped himself and turned to a Space Marine standing nearby. “You! Can you work an audio recorder?”

“Yes, sir,” replied the Marine.

“Then get a machine up here on the double and take down everything that’s said.”

“Yes, sir,” said the Marine and left the ship. Connel silently began inspecting the wreckage. It was ten times as serious as the first sabotage attempt.

Barret, Commander Walters, Professor Hemmingwell, and Captain Strong watched the major, their teeth clenched, eyes clouded with anger. Where the destruction of the first unit could have been called an accident, here was tangible evidence of a deliberate attempt to stop the whole project. The Space Marine, accompanied by Firehouse Tim Rush, returned five minutes later with the audio recorder and set it up for operation.

Connel took the small needlelike microphone in his hand and spoke into it as the reel of sound tape unwound slowly.

“This is a preliminary inquiry into the sabotage of the control deck of spaceship XX, Operation Space Projectile,” he said. “This is Major Lou Connel, interrogator!” He paused and nodded to Barret who stepped forward. “My first witness will be Dave Barret.” Holding the microphone close to the young engineer’s mouth, Connel said, “Tell us everything you know of this incident.”

Barret spoke slowly and carefully, describing how he and Professor Hemmingwell had been at the other end of the hangar when the explosion had occurred. Professor Hemmingwell had immediately run out of the hangar to inform Commander Walters, leaving Barret alone to check the damage. “Then you and Commander Walters and the Space Marines showed up, sir,” he concluded. “That’s all I know.”

“All right,” said Connel and turned to the professor. “Your statement, Professor Hemmingwell.”

“It happened just about the way Dave said,” Hemmingwell began. “Except for one thing. I cannot see why there weren’t any guards at their posts this afternoon. We were without any men at the entrances for nearly an hour. Anyone could have slipped into the hangar and planted the bomb.”

“Why weren’t the entrances guarded?” snapped Connel, looking directly at Firehouse Tim Rush.

“Cadets Manning and Astro left their posts without leave, sir,” reported the stocky little spaceman.

Captain Strong took an involuntary step forward, his face drained of all color. Connel looked at him, steely-eyed. “Did you hear that, Strong?” he growled.

Strong nodded. “I--I did,” he stammered.

“So those two idiots not only stole a rocket scout, but they left their posts.”

Strong could only shake his head in utter disbelief. Commander Walters looked at him pityingly.

“I knew they had taken the scout,” said Walters, his voice hard and tight. “But I didn’t think they were foolish enough to leave their posts.”

“Well, they did, sir,” declared Rush. “They left about four hours before they were to be relieved. I was making the rounds when I discovered that they were gone. I put two other men on guard right away, but the doors were unguarded for at least an hour. Anyone could have walked in without the slightest trouble.”

Connel turned back to Walters. “This is the end! Those two cadets are going up before a general court-martial.”

“Commander,” protested Strong, “you can’t--!”

“Shut up, Steve!” barked Connel. “There’s a limit to how long you can defend your unit. Face it, man, those three boys have gone off their rockers. They’re too cocky. This is the last straw.” He turned away from the young Solar Guard officer and faced the others. “Let’s get on with the interrogation. Firehouse! What have you got to say about this?”

The tough little enlisted guard stepped up and reported clearly and rapidly and without pause. When he was finished, Connel turned to the guards that had replaced Roger and Astro and each one repeated the story told by Firehouse Tim.

Over and over, Connel heard the same story. No one seemed to have been around the ship when the explosion took place. And it seemed that the only time when a saboteur could have gotten into the hangar and planted the bomb was during the hour the doors were unguarded.

Finally, the interrogation was over and Connel declared, “One thing to remember when you are dealing with sabotage is this: if the saboteur fails, he might return. If our enemy does not know the extent of the damage, then he might return and make another attempt. So, not a word about this to anyone. And that includes your mothers.”

“Major, there is one thing I’d like to add,” said Barret, stepping forward.

“What’s that?” asked Connel.

“It’s about the cadets,” said Barret. “I talked to them just before they blasted off in the scout. They had a lot to say about your taking Corbett with you on the trip to Mars. They seemed disgruntled and dissatisfied.”

Steve Strong whirled on the young engineer. “What did they say?” he demanded.

“Simply that they didn’t feel that they were getting a fair deal with Tom being taken off guard duty, since he was actually responsible for them having it in the first place.

“They said that!” exclaimed Strong. “But how could that--” He suddenly closed his mouth and turned away, frowning.

“But how could what, Steve?” asked Walters.

“Nothing, sir,” said Strong. “You have already reprimanded me too often as it is for speaking up in their behalf.”

Walters lifted his eyebrows. “It appears to me that you’re getting a little touchy!” he barked. “Watch yourself, Steve. Don’t let your feelings for those boys get out of hand.”