Chapter 5: The Destruction of Z25

JOE dashed from the room and sped down the hallway to the control center of the mining base. Each strike of a laser beam colored the interior of the buildings with ruby red as the attackers’ targets were vaporized, and the flashes were coming with disturbing frequency. He hurled himself into the tiny office where a frantic young man sat at a console.

“We’re going to die!” cried the young man. Joe looked through the large window and saw five ships hovering over the base. Their laser cannons were rapidly destroying the outlying parts of the mining base. There were no defensive weapons. Joe glanced at the radar screen and his hair stood up as he saw that the screen showed nothing. To the surveillance system, the ships were invisible. The technician was babbling in abject, helpless fear, but Joe’s pulse leaped when he realized that the frightened young man might be right. They could all be dead at any moment. The man fled the room crying.

Joe looked out the window again and saw that laser cannons had begun to destroy the ships. Through the horrifying, rapidly expanding concentric vapor shells, he saw the Vigilant Warrior crumpling into a heap. The other ships were either completely destroyed or well on the way.

“What is this? Who are they?” exclaimed Mark. He, Zip, and George had followed Joe to the control center and were watching the laser beams sweep the landing field. The ships were being indiscriminately reduced to molten slag.

“Their laser beams are immensely powerful, and they’re operating at full capacity,” observed Zip, grimly. Just then the lights went out and every apparatus in the control center went dark.

“They found and destroyed the power plant,” whispered George, the tenseness evident in his voice. “But they’re not touching the inhabited parts of the base.”

Suddenly Zip turned to their host. “George!” he said urgently. “Do any of your crew know that we are Starmen?” George turned a distracted face to Zip and stared as if he wasn’t comprehending what Zip had said.

“Do any of your crew know that we are Starmen?” Zip repeated carefully.

“I-I don’t know. I didn’t tell anybody, I think, but I didn’t keep it a secret.”

“Look! Gather them all together and tell them not to say anything about us to these invaders! Our safety may depend on it, as well as any chance we all have of eventually escaping!”

“Ah-all right,” George stammered.

Since the power was out, there was no way to make an announcement through the communication system, but the rest of the crew was assembling anyway. The refectory was located not far from the control center and the men were coming together there, so the Starmen and George went to join them.

In a moment, there were about a dozen men in the room. Some sat on the benches, others stood. There was palpable fear in the room, as if they knew that sudden, violent death was near.

Zip asked George, “Is this everyone?” George took a quick glance around the room.

“I, I think so, yes.”

Zip took charge. “Men, listen to me. We’re about to be taken captive. I don’t think anything worse will happen to us, or it would have happened by now. My friends and I have come to visit Sabbath George. Just got here from Ceres and sure didn’t expect this!”

George took over. He was showing more confidence now. Alone of the Z25 crew, he had never shown fear, just shock. “We’ll just wait right here, men, and see what’s next. I don’t know who these attackers are or what they want, but don’t volunteer any information of any kind. You hear me? No information of any kind, beyond the most basic.”

The men were silent and collapsed in on themselves. They were afraid, but the panic seemed to have diminished somewhat. Outside, the five ships had landed and about twenty space-suited men had emerged. With weapons in hand, they were approaching the dome. The leader gestured to several of them, who spread out around the dome. The others remained at the main airlock and waited. Their feet were spread in an attitude of defiant power.

“They want the airlock open, Mr. St. George,” said the young man who had fled from the control center. His voice was dry and squeaky.

George said, “Can’t open it. No controls. Those fools destroyed the power center. If they’re coming in, you’ll have to get your spacesuits on because the atmosphere is going to disappear. Make it quick before they blow the airlock by force.” The men scattered. George and the Starmen went to the airlock and looked at the invaders from the inside of the dome. George said to the Starmen, “Of course, there’s a backup power system, but I don’t feel a compelling need to make it any easier for these strangers.”

When the leader saw that there were people coming, he kicked the airlock savagely and aimed his weapon at the mechanism. As was customary, the helmets were lined up on a rack on shelves just inside the airlock. George put on his helmet and the Starmen put on theirs. The rest of the mining crew began to show up with their suits on and found their helmets. When all were suited up and the intercoms were on, George told the mining crew to stand aside. Then he told the leader of the invaders that he could enter.

The man fired a stupendously powerful beam at the airlock that melted it like ice in a furnace. In seconds, the air inside the dome whooshed out into the vacuum of space.

“Get into the ship,” growled the leader of the invaders, indicating the closest of the five spaceships. “No one is going to be hurt, but I’m not guaranteeing that that situation will last. I’m not a patient man and I don’t like wasting time.”

“What about our belongings?” asked George.

“You won’t need them. Move to the ship. Now.” The voice was even and quiet but as hard as iron. Zip started the procession. He slumped down as if completely disheartened and walked like a prisoner, his eyes pointed to the ground. The others followed. The invaders kept them surrounded as they walked the short distance to the pilot ship. Several invaders entered first and then kept watch on the prisoners as they ascended the ladder into the staging area. Once the asteroid miners were aboard, the other invaders entered their ships.

When the door was sealed, the invaders removed their helmets. The miners followed suit. The leader took a quick inventory of the prisoners, and then settled his gaze on George.

“You are George St. George,” he said in a tone that knew he was stating a fact. “My name is Lather. You and your men are now prisoners of Lurton Zimbardo. I am taking you to him. As long as I’ve got you, I don’t care about anything or anyone else. Don’t make any trouble and I won’t see any need to put anyone off the ship. It doesn’t make any difference to me whether any of your men is in deep space or my guest room, but it might make a difference to you-and them.”

Without turning his head, Lather addressed one of his crew. “Blaze, see that this base is melted into the bedrock.”

“Yes sir,” said the man addressed and left the room.

Lather addressed another of his crew. “Spelford, escort the prisoners to their quarters.”

Spelford lifted his weapon and nodded in the direction they were to go. The prisoners went, under the guard of several armed men.