Chapter 20

“There’s only one answer, boys,” said Connel. “Loring and Mason have escaped and taken over the ship. I can’t think of any other reason Tom would abandon us like this.”

The jet boat was crowded. Alfie, the smallest, was sitting on Astro’s lap. For more than an hour they had circled above the copper satellite, searching the surrounding skies in vain for some sign of the Polaris.

“Major,” said Roger, who was hunched over the steering wheel of the small space craft, “we’re almost out of fuel. We’d better drop down on the night side of Junior, the side away from the sun. At least there we’d be out of the direct heat.”

“Very well, Roger,” said Connel. “In fact, we could keep shifting into the night side every hour.” Then he added quietly, thoughtfully, “But we’re out of fuel, you said?”

“Yes, sir,” said Roger. “There’s just enough to get down.” Roger sent the craft in a shallow dive. Suddenly the rockets cut out. The last of the fuel was gone. Roger glided the jet boat to a smooth stop on the night side of the planetoid.

“How much longer before the reactor units go up?” asked Shinny.

Connel turned, thinking he had heard something on the communicators, then answered Shinny’s question. “Only four hours,” he said.

The crew of spacemen climbed out of the jet boat into the still blackness of the night side of the planet. There wasn’t anything left to do.

They sat around on the hard surface of the planet, staring at the strange stars overhead.

“You know,” said Astro, “I might be able to set up something to convert some of the U235 in the reactors to fuel the jet boat.”

“Impossible, Astro,” said Alfie. “You’d need a reduction gear. And not only that, but you haven’t any tools to handle the mass. If you opened one of those boxes, you’d be fried immediately by the radiation!”

“Alfie’s right,” said Connel. “There’s nothing to do but wait.”

Major Connel turned his face up as far as he could in the huge fish-bowl helmet to stare at the sky. His eyes wandered from star cluster to star cluster, from glowing Regulus, to bright and powerful Sirius. He stifled a sigh. How much he had wanted to see more--and more--and more of the great wide, high, and deep! He remembered his early days as a youth on his first trip to Luna City; his first sensation at touching an alien world; his skipper, old, wise, and patient, who had given him his creed as a spaceman: “Travel wide, deep, and high,” the skipper had said to the young Connel, “but never so far, so wide, or so deep as to forget that you’re an Earthman, or how to act like an Earthman!” Even now, years later, the gruff voice rang in his ears. It wasn’t long after that that he had met Shinny. Connel smiled behind the protection of his helmet, as he looked at the wizened spaceman, who was now old and toothless, but who still had the same merry twinkle in his eye that Connel had noticed the first time he saw him. Connel had signed on as first officer on a deep spacer bound for Titan. Shinny had come aboard and reported to Connel as rocketman. Shinny had promptly started roaring through the passageways of the huge freighter in his nightshirt singing snatches of old songs at the top of his voice. It had taken Connel four hours to find where Shinny had hidden the bottle of rocket juice! Connel laughed. He looked over at the old man fondly.

“Say, Nick,” said Connel, addressing the man by his given name for the first time, “you remember the time it took me four hours to find that bottle of rocket juice you hid on that old Titan freighter?”

Shinny cackled, his thin voice coming over the headphones of the others as well as Connel’s.

“I sure do, Lou!” replied Shinny, using Connel’s first name. They were just old spacemen now, reliving old times together. “Funny thing, though, you never knew I had two more bottles hidden in the tube chamber!”

“Why, you old space crawler!” roared Connel. “You put one over on me!”

Roger and Astro and Alfie had never known Connel’s first name. They rolled the name over in their minds, fitting the name to the man. Unknown to each other, they decided that the name fitted the man. Lou Connel!

“Say, Lou,” asked Shinny, “where in the blessed universe did you come from? You never told me.”

There was a long pause. “A place called Telfair Estates, in the deep South on the North American continent. I was raised on a farm close by. I used to go fishing late at night and stare up at the stars.” He paused again. “I ran away from home. I don’t know if--if--anyone’s still there or not. I never went back!”

There was a long silence as each man saw a small boy fishing late at night, barefoot, his toes dangling in the water, a worm wiggling on the end of a string, more interested in the stars that twinkled overhead than in any fish that might swim past and seize the hook.

“Where are you from, Nick?” asked Connel.

“Born in space,” cackled Shinny, “on a passenger freighter carrying colonists out to Titan. Never had a breath of natural fresh air until I was almost a grown man. Nothing but synthetic stuff under the atmosphere screens. My father was a mining engineer. I was the only kid. One night a screen busted and nearly everybody suffocated or froze to death. My pa and ma was among ‘em. I blasted off after that. Been in the deep ever since. And you know, by the blessed rings of Saturn, I’d be on a nice farm near Venusport, living on a pension, if you hadn’t kicked me out of the Solar Guard!”

“Why, you broken down old piece of space junk,” roared Connel, “I oughta--” Connel never finished what he was going to say.

“Attention! Attention! Roger--Astro--Major Connel--come in, please! This is Tom on the Polaris!”

As if they had been struck by a bolt of lightning, the five spacemen sat up and then raced to the jet boat.

“Connel to Corbett!” roared the major. “Where are you? What happened?”

“I haven’t got time to explain now, sir,” said Tom. “Loring and Mason escaped and forced me to take them to Tara. I managed to overcome them and blast back here. Meet me up about fifty miles above Junior, sir. I’m bringing the Polaris in!”

“No!” yelled Connel. “It’s no use, Tom. We’re out of fuel. We’ve used up all our power.”

“Then stand by,” said Tom grimly. “I’m coming in for a landing!”

“No, Tom!” roared Connel. “There’s nothing you can do. We’re too far into the sun’s pull. You’ll never blast off again!”