Chapter 9

“Rocket cruiser Polaris to Solar Guard Venusport! Request emergency relay circuit to Commander Walters en route Earth!”

On the radar bridge of the Polaris, Roger Manning spoke quickly into the teleceiver microphone. Just a few minutes before the giant spaceship had blasted off from Venusport, heading for the Sinclair plantation, Major Connel had ordered Roger to get in touch with Walters to report the latest security leak. On the control deck the major paced back and forth restlessly as Tom guided the Polaris on its short flight.

“I’ll find the spy in the Solar Guard if I have to tear Venusport apart piece by piece!” fumed Connel.

“What about that jet freighter we took away from the Nationalists, sir?” asked Tom. “Did you ever find out where it came from?”

Connel nodded. “It was an old bucket on the Southern Colonial run. She was reported lost last year. Somehow those jokers got hold of her and armed her to the teeth.”

“You think maybe the crew could have mutinied, sir?”

“It’s highly possible, Corbett,” answered Connel, and glanced around. “If they have any other ships of that size, the Polaris will be able to handle them.”

“Yes, sir.” Tom smiled. “The repair crew did a good job on her.” The cadet paused. “Do you suppose one of the Nationalists planted that bomb on her fin?”

“No doubt of it,” replied Connel. “And it seems to tie in with a rather strange thing that happened in the Venusian Delegate’s office the day before it happened.”

“What was that, sir?” asked Tom.

“Three priority orders for seats aboard a Venusport--Atom City express were stolen. Before a check could be made, the ship had made its run and the people using the priorities were gone. They must have been the ones that bumped you off your seats.”

“How do you think that ties in with the bomb on the Polaris, sir?”

“We’re trying to figure that out now,” said Connel. “If only we knew what they looked like it would help. The girl at the ticket office doesn’t remember them and neither does the ship’s stewardess.”

“But we saw them, sir!” exclaimed Tom.

“You what!” roared Connel.

“Yes, sir. We were standing there at the ticket counter when they called for their tickets.”

“Do you think you’d recognize them again?”

“I’ll say!” asserted Tom. “And I’m sure Astro and Roger would, too. We were so mad, we could have blasted them on the spot.”

Connel turned to the intercom and shouted, “Manning, haven’t you got that circuit through yet?”

“Working on it, sir.” Roger’s voice was smooth and unruffled over the intercom. “I’m in contact with the commander’s ship now. They’re calling him to the radar bridge now.”

Tom suddenly jumped out of his seat as though stung. “Say! I saw one of the fellows again too!”

Connel whirled quickly to face the young cadet. “Where?” he demanded. “Where did you see him?”

“I--I’m trying to remember.” Tom began pacing the deck, snapping his fingers impatiently. “It was sometime during the past few days--I know it was!”

“In Venusport?” demanded Connel, following Tom around the deck.

“Yes, sir--”

“Before or after your trip into the jungle?”

“Uhh--before, I think,” Tom replied hesitantly. “No. No. It was after we came back.”

“Well, out with it, Corbett!” exploded the major. “When? Where? You didn’t do that much visiting! You were too tired to move!”

“That’s just it, sir,” said Tom, shaking his head. “I was so tired everything was a blur. Faces are all mixed up. I--I--” The boy stopped and put his hands to his head as though trying to squeeze the one vital face out of his hazy memory.

Connel kept after him like a hungry, stalking animal. “Where, Corbett? When?” he shouted. “You’ve got to remember. This is important! Think, blast you!”

“I’m trying, sir,” replied the cadet. “But it just won’t come to me.”

The buzz of the intercom suddenly sounded and Connel reluctantly left Tom to answer it. Roger’s voice crackled over the speaker. “I have Commander Walters now, sir. Feeding him down to the control-deck teleceiver.”

“Oh, all right,” replied Connel and turned to Tom. “Come on, Corbett. I want you to report to the commander personally.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Tom, walking slowly to the teleceiver. “I’m sorry I can’t remember where I saw that man.”

“Forget it,” Connel said gruffly. “It’ll come to you again sometime.” He paused and then added as gently as he could, “Sorry I blasted you like that.”

When Commander Walters’ face appeared on the teleceiver screen, Connel reported the incident of the cab driver and the news that Tom, Roger, and Astro had seen the three men who had taken the priorities on the Venus Lark.

“Just a minute,” said Walters. “I’ll have a recorder take down the descriptions.”

Connel motioned to Tom, who stepped before the screen. When he saw Walters nod, he gave a complete description of the three men he had seen in the Atom City spaceport.

“Let’s see, now,” said Walters, after Tom had concluded his report. “The man who asked for the tickets was young, about twenty-two, dressed in Venusian clothing, dark, six feet tall, weighed about one hundred and fifty pounds. Right?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Tom.

Connel suddenly stepped before the screen to interject, “And Corbett saw him in Venusport again sometime during the last two days.”

“Really? Where?”

Connel glanced at Tom and then replied hurriedly, “Well, he can’t be sure, sir. We rushed him around pretty fast and he saw a lot of people. But at least we know he’s in Venusport somewhere.”

“Yes,” nodded Walters. “That’s something to work on, at least. And you have nothing more to add to the descriptions of the other two, Corbett?”

“Not anything particular, sir,” said Tom. “They were dressed in Venusian-type clothes also, but we didn’t get a close look at them.”

“Very well,” said Walters. “Proceed with your mission, Major. I’ll have an alert sent out for the cab driver, and I’ll have the owner of the pawnshop picked up. There must be someone on the Solar Delegate’s staff who stole those priorities. We’ll start searching there first, and if we come up with anyone who can’t explain his absence from Venusport at the time the priorities were used, and fits Corbett’s description, we’ll contact you. End transmission!”

“End transmission!” repeated Connel. The screen blanked out and Roger’s voice came over the intercom immediately. “We’ll be over Sinclair’s in three minutes,” he called. “Stand by.”

Tom turned to the controls and in exactly two minutes and fifty seconds the clearing surrounding Sinclair’s home and the burned outbuildings came into view. Working effortlessly, with almost casual teamwork, the three cadets brought the giant spaceship to rest in the middle of the clearing. As the power was cut, the cadets saw George and Mrs. Hill jumping into a jet car and speeding out to greet them.

After Tom introduced Connel to the couple, the major questioned them closely about their absence during the attack by the shock troops.

“Mr. Sinclair often gives us time off for a trip into Venusport,” explained Hill. “It gets pretty lonely out here.”

“Is Mr. Sinclair in now?” asked Connel.

“No, he isn’t,” replied the plantation foreman. “He’s on his weekly trip around the outer fields. I don’t expect him back for another day or two.”

“For goodness sakes,” exclaimed Mrs. Hill, “you can ask your questions just as easily and a darn sight more comfortably in the house! Come on. Let’s get out of the sun.”

The small group climbed into the jet car and roared off across the clearing toward the house. The lone building left standing by the Nationalists looked strange amid the charred ruins of the other buildings. In the house, the three cadets busied themselves with home-baked apple pie which the housekeeper had brought out, while Connel was telling George of the attack on the plantation.

“I’ve known about them all along, of course,” said the foreman. “But I never paid any attention to them. I just quit, like Mr. Sinclair, when they started all that tomfoolery about wearing uniforms and stuff.”

“Well,” said Connel, accepting a wedge of pie at Mrs. Hill’s insistence, “now they’ve made the wrong move. Burning Sinclair’s property and attacking an officer of the Solar Guard is going too far.”