The Runaway Asteroid, Michael D. Cooper [mobi reader android TXT] 📗

ordered as his fingers flew over the keyboard. The man he addressed quickly came to stand by the pirate leader. He was a well-built young man in his late twenties with short curly brown hair, finely chiseled features, and an obvious desire to please. He was well trained in the technology of space control systems. After he had proven his competence in the field, Troy Putnam had made him his chief control officer.

Zimbardo continued. "Follow these coordinates at this speed. Don't alter the course for any reason without my permission."

Gene looked at the planning board where the numbers were posted in a pleasant green light. "That course will take us out of the Belt, Mr. Zimbardo. Is that what you want?"

"That's what I want. It's time to move away from here. If anything out of the ordinary happens, let me know immediately. Find me by using my personal code on the communicator-no general announcement. Keep watch especially for any spacecraft-especially any spacecraft!"

"Yes sir!" Gene took his place and the others returned to their duties.

Once he saw that the crew members were well settled, he picked up the intercom and ordered his leaders to assemble in a meeting room in five minutes. From the few dozen pirates left, he had hand-selected five competent leaders to be his lieutenants: Gebbeth, Crass, Lather, Bolcher, and Slant.

In less than that time, Lurton Zimbardo was sitting at a table with the five other men. All but Zimbardo looked haggard. The pirates were demoralized and upset. Victory on Mars and beyond had been within their grasp, but it had all been blundered away. A band of several hundred men who had planned and worked for several years had been reduced to a few dozen. Their dreams of power and prominence, shaped and fueled by their captain Troy Putnam, had been utterly destroyed. Now Putnam was in custody on Mars, along with the rest of the pirates who had been captured by Earth's forces.

"Troy Putnam was a fool," Zimbardo announced in a quiet voice edged with steel. "His plan might have worked-might have worked, if I had had more part in planning-but he was no more than a conceited ignoramus! The Starmen walked in on him and took him completely by surprise! I can just imagine how his face must have looked as he realized his plan was over and he was led off to jail. A fool! We are better off without him!"

"Better off without him?" asked one man in a dull voice. "What do you mean, Lurton? Better off for what?"

"Don't be a fool yourself, Crass!" Zimbardo sneered. "You think we're finished here? We will still get what we want and it won't be very difficult! We don't need Putnam and we don't need a few hundred men, either! You can be thankful you're here instead of locked in a stone room in Eagle City eating square, plain, healthy meals off of a metal tray! The collapse of Putnam's big dream is the best thing that could have happened for us!"

A muscular, unsmiling man on Zimbardo's right swung his gaze to the speaker. "It sounds as if you have a plan, Mr. Zimbardo." The man was in his early thirties and resembled a street fighter. His carefully combed dark hair made him look almost strikingly handsome, but his eyes were black and humorless.

Zimbardo turned toward the man. "Yes, I have a plan. You, Gebbeth, will be my chief assistant and the pilot of the Tartarus, my personal ship. I can depend on you. Space Command's celebration on Mars will be extremely short-lived."

"You were always the strong one, Lurton," said another. "I kind of always figured you for the real leader, and I always wished it was you instead of Putnam."

"Now you got your wish, Bolcher. I've taken charge. I'm moving this asteroid out of its orbit into a place outside the Belt. Here's my plan."

Almost an hour later, the men left the meeting room, smiling, joking, and stepping lightly. Their fatigue was gone, their discouragement forgotten.

Lurton Zimbardo was the last to leave. Now that things were moving in the direction he wanted, he allowed his fatigue to take over. Encouraged by the support of his assistants, he felt he could rest at last. He walked down the halls, past various doors and entered an elevator. The display screen offered only the few floors in use by the pirates but Zimbardo had another destination in mind. Alone in the elevator, he punched in a special code which only he knew. When the proper sequence was displayed, he pressed "Enter." As the elevator began to move, the new leader of the pirates relaxed even further. The others would not know where he was, and he would be undisturbed.

He could barely sense the elevator's motion. He didn't know how far into the asteroid's interior he was moving, but he knew what he would find when he reached his destination. The door opened and Zimbardo stepped out. A quick walk down a short corridor brought him to a double door. Embossed on the doors was a huge, rich, golden symbol-a lush planet with about 80% blue oceans, a few continents, and thick cloud cover. Three small moons were arranged at the upper left, set at the points of an equilateral triangle. Zimbardo had been intrigued by the design when he'd first found it, but now he hastened through the doors without noticing it. He was eager to get into the Chamber beyond.

As Lurton stepped into the room, he gasped. His dozen prior visits still had not taken the surprise out of the room. Each time he stepped into the Chamber he seemed to be setting foot into another world; he knew he was still inside the asteroid but his senses told him otherwise.

Lurton seemed to be standing on a high mountain overlooking a vast plain on some forgotten planet. A pale blue sky was overhead and a light wind was blowing. Down below on the plain he saw a river snaking its way through a green forest; if he listened carefully he could hear the water. In the distance he saw a fantastic alien metropolis of beautiful glass skyscrapers; he could just barely make out ships hovering over it and small vehicles driving around in the distance. Clouds sailed gently overhead; it was near dusk.

He knew that the room was actually no more than about a hundred feet square, but the display was seamless. For all the world he seemed to be standing on another planet on a late, peaceful afternoon. He had never been able to find out how the room worked or where the wind came from, but he suspected the display was generated by some sort of holographic projectors far in advance of anything he had ever seen or heard of.

Lurton guessed that the scene was from the home planet of the asteroid's builders; perhaps the distant city was their capital. He had spent hours watching the room and never tired of it, for the scene always changed. After a certain number of hours dusk fell and the city lights came on. He had watched different kinds of weather and seen glorious sunsets and sunrises. Occasionally he caught a glimpse of a huge alien starship. He had seen many strange things in the Chamber and he was sure that he had not seen them all.

Lurton liked coming here when he was upset or annoyed; the room had a peaceful air that rested and soothed him. He was certainly in need of that now. He hadn't slept in over fifty hours and could easily have lain down in what seemed like soft turf and fallen deeply asleep, but the ethereal beauty of the Chamber's vision was restful and he didn't want to close his eyes for an instant while he was inside.

He thought back to the day when he'd found the room. The asteroid had been drifting and uninhabited for who knows how many thousands of years when a solitary asteroid miner had found it and discovered that it was hollow. He had told a few others about his find and eventually Troy Putnam learned of it. Zimbardo grudgingly admitted to himself that Troy was a genius-a weak, impractical genius, but a genius nonetheless. Putnam had found the miner and persuaded him to bring him to the nearly-invisible asteroid. He had even learned how to use many of the asteroid's capabilities, and then had made it the base for his foolish attempt to take over Mars.

Shortly after the pirates had taken residence, Troy Putnam had directed Lurton to explore the asteroid beyond the few floors the pirates used and find out everything he could about it. It was a trying assignment. The first few floors comprised a connected unit and the elevator codes were easy to learn. Moving anywhere else was a matter of trial and error, and the access codes were complex.

One day Zimbardo had found the Chamber. There was very little that could arouse any kind of sensitivity in the wiry, energetic man, but the Chamber could do so. Maybe it was because no one else knew about it and no one could see him wrapped in the depths of the emotions the room could inspire. The Chamber was not the only secret of the asteroid which Lurton had retained for himself, but it was certainly the best one.

At last the peace and enchantment of the Chamber overcame Lurton's resistance to slumber. He sat down and rested with his back against a tree, gazing over the landscape at the alien city. The massive trunk was slightly rough but not uncomfortable. Huge roots spread out in all directions before disappearing into the grassy soil. Branches laden with broad leaves made a shadow-filled canopy over the pirate leader.

As he felt sleep coming on, he fumed one more time at the Starmen and the stupidity of Troy Putnam. He mulled over his plan and smiled a little. The Starmen would live to regret what they had done to him. His eyes closed and his breathing became deep and regular. At last the pirates' new leader slept.

Above him a few birds chirped peacefully. A short distance away a brook murmured in lyric gentleness. The sky over the city gradually turned from flawless blue through lavender into violet, and silver stars emerged.

2: Sent to Ceres

THE SPLENDOR of the Asteroid Belt stretched away in all directions, and the piercing light of uncountable stars filled the background. Such a view was possible only in airless space. Starman David Foster was staring out of the window of his ship, the Star Ranger, but he was not really seeing anything. His brow was furrowed with an uneasy doubt.

"Still no sign of 'em, Zip," announced Joe Taylor. The lanky six-footer had eased naturally into the position of pilot under David's direction. Joe had flown everything from ancient biplanes to interplanetary rockets. He understood the principles of propulsion and flight, and with amazing facility could learn to fly almost any vehicle designed for traveling through an atmosphere or the vacuum of space.

Mark Seaton had naturally become the navigator and engine master of the
Starman crew. He specialized in engines and large, complex machinery.
He had always had a talent for understanding machines, and he knew the
workings of the average rocket from stem to stern.

David Foster, like all Starmen, was able to navigate and fly his own ship, but had a specialty in Deep Space exploration and survival skills. Whenever he was faced with a problem, he could think it through and come up with a solution with the equipment available. He was a natural leader. He excelled at organization and decision-making, and Joe and Mark were glad to be a part of the Starman team under Zip's leadership.

Joe continued to relate his observations. "I've scanned as far as the instruments can reach, and there's just nothing out there in any direction-except the Earth ships, of course. They should be here in about three hours."

"No debris?"

"No, Zip. I've found where the explosion took place and examined that more carefully than any other area. It was a violent blow. I think about a third of an asteroid was turned into dust when it went off, and that's powerful enough to vaporize any ship that was carrying a weapon with that kind of potential."

Zip shook his head as if warding off a buzzing insect. "All right. Nothing we can do about it." He turned to the third Starman on the crew. "Mark," he called out. "Would you send a report to Mars please and ask Commander De Koven what he wants us to do?"

"Okay, Zip."

Mark prepared the message and sent it off.