Chapter III

There was air now. Great gulps of it. Someone had thrown back Curt's helmet, and he could hear the steady thrum of the airostat. It was beautiful music.

Kueelo had recovered, and Rikert. And a fourth man was there. As Curt came to his feet he heard Rikert's voice, a little suspicious, addressing the stranger.

"You! You're not Landreth. I thought we were going to meet--"

"Disappointed? Get going then! Back where you came from!" The stranger's voice was like a whiplash. He held an electro in his hard-knuckled fist. Rikert became silent.

"So. You'd like to see Landreth, eh?"

Rikert grinned, wet his lips a little. "Sure would! Don't get me wrong, mister. There's one man I'd like to join up with, if he's operating again!"

Curt watched the stranger, saw him grin as though secretly amused at Rikert's words.

"Later!" the man said. "Right now get this through your heads, all of you. Your lives were forfeit at the mines, and that isn't altered by your being here! I'll blast the first one who makes a wrong move." He gestured with the gun, surveyed them coldly. "Good. Now you will strip. Put your clothes over here."

He went carefully through their clothes, found nothing in Curt's or Kueelo's. But from a secret pocket in Rikert's leather suit he brought forth a deadly needle-gun. A smile creased his dark, thin face.

"You won't need _this_ where you are going." The spaceman pocketed the needle-gun then turned suddenly on Curt, sharp eyes going over him. "Up! Up with that left arm!"

Too late Curt remembered the thin disc fastened under his arm-pit, identifying him as an investigator for the Federation Prison-Board. He had adopted that merely as a cover-up. Actually his mission for DeHarries was far more important! Now Curt shrugged, tore the disc away from the paper-thin duroplast fastening.

"So," the spaceman purred, examining it. "You were sent here by the Prison-Board! And we thought no one was aware of the missing prisoners."

"Well I'll be damned," Rikert said, half in anger, staring at Curt. "If I'd known who you really were, Emmons--"

"You'd have come just the same!" Curt said icily.

"It really doesn't matter who you are," the man with the gun said softly, surveying Curt's well-muscled figure and clear eyes. "Yes, I'm glad you came. You're the type we need. This one too," he nodded at Rikert.

He turned his gaze upon Kueelo. "But I can't understand why you brought _this_ one! Well, we shall find a use for him."

At the insult, quick points of fire appeared in Kueelo's eyes. Curt flashed him a warning look. Kueelo set his lips tightly.

"My name," the other was saying, "is Jeffers. Dress quickly now. Captain Landreth will want to see you, then we'll be on our way."

It became apparent to Curt that this was no ordinary spacer! It was small and trim, with a suggestion of untold speed. If the ship carried weapons, they were kept well under cover. Jeffers led them along a single corridor with staterooms on either side.

"Where's the crew?" Rikert asked.

"You three are the crew. Beyond that there's just me--and Captain Landreth." Again Curt had the feeling that Jeffers was secretly amused. He ushered them into a compartment near the control-room.

Curt stood quite still for a moment, staring around. The room was a dream. Magnificent tapestries, interwoven with _kra_ plumes, covered the walls. Beneath his feet an imperial Martian rug was a splash of vari-colored splendor. He saw furniture of extinct _jragua_ wood, inlaid with mosaics of semi-precious stones.

Then Curt's eyes widened, as he gazed across the room and saw the person who rose to greet them.

She was tall, for a girl. Auburn hair brushed smoothly back from her forehead fell in waves to the shoulders of a close-fitting uniform. Her eyes were blue but unsmiling, her lips smiled thinly but didn't mean it.

"I am Lorine Landreth," she said without emotion. "If you must be amazed, please do it quickly. We have work to do!"

* * * * *

Curt was beyond being amazed. Thoughtfully his gaze took in her trim figure, the pale but determined face, the electro held loosely in a belt at her waist. She gave the impression of knowing how to use it.

"Captain Landreth, I presume." Curt's voice was serious. "George Landreth's daughter?"

"Correct! On both counts." She turned to Jeffers. "You made it clear that their status is not altered by their being here?"

"Of course. Don't worry, I'll see that they remember it, Lorine."

Her eyes blazed quickly. "Captain to you! See that you remember _that_ Jeffers!"

He nodded, smiling with faint insolence as he leaned against the door. The girl turned back to the three prisoners.

"There is one difference. At the Prison mines you worked hard. And for a life-time. And you died. You will work where we are going, too--perhaps not so hard, but dangerously! You may die, but at least I offer you a chance. If we succeed in our mission, you are free men. Free to change your identities and go where you will."

"That's okay by me, miss!" Rikert was enthusiastic. "Er, I mean--Captain. But look! Don't we get to see Landreth, George Landreth? I was counting on--"

The girl turned a gaze upon Rikert which reduced him to silence.

"It is my wish that we all may see George Landreth! I may as well tell you now. The purpose of our mission--is to find my father." For the merest instant, Curt saw a deepening look in her eyes which dissolved the mask of hardness. She turned quickly away, seized a sheaf of papers. "We are wasting time here! Jeffers! Show them their assignments." Kueelo and Rikert followed the man from the room. Curt hesitated, then stepped into the control-room where the girl had gone. He may have been mistaken, but for a moment she had shown signs of being almost human.

Curt stood silent, watching her at the navigator's table. She consulted pencilled data on the papers, then swiftly, with practised fingers, she adjusted the sliding sheathes on the robot control. At last it was finished. She glanced up, saw him watching.

"Venus!" Curt exclaimed. "So that's where we're going!"

Her blue eyes surveyed him coolly. "So. You can read a robot-wheel, can you? What else can you do?"

"Around a spaceship, almost anything. Tubes, controls, magnibeams, calculations and differential, any weapon you care to mention--"

"That will do." Her narrow eyes narrowed. "I don't like men with me in space who know more about a ship than I do! Suppose you help Jeffers in the rocket-room."

"Very well, Captain. But about your father--"

"Later!"

Curt nodded, looked at her a moment, then hurried to the rocket-room. Jeffers said brusquely, "Do you understand magnetic stabilizers, Emmons?"

"Sure."

"Help me with these, then."

As Curt worked, his mind went back across the years, tying together threads of stories he had heard. Stories about George Landreth, one of the first men to open up the rich new territory on Callisto. He had brought his wife there from Earth. He struck a rich iridium vein and worked it slowly, alone. Until the Earth Corporations stepped in. Landreth defied them to the bitter end. His wife died unpleasantly....

There the stories varied. Some said that Landreth placed his daughter in the hands of relatives on Earth, before he turned pirate. Others said the girl stayed with her father, learning every trick of the spaceways. One thing was clear: throughout the years Landreth gathered lawless men about him. More than one Corporation had gone to ruin under the incessant attacks of an enemy who had achieved a ruthlessness equal to their own! Then the attacks ceased. Landreth seemed to have disappeared.

* * * * *

Curt thrust these questions from his mind. At last the stabilizers and rocket-feeds were ready. Jeffers signalled the control-room, and a moment later they swept upward. Endless miles away, near the twilight-strip, Curt could see a faint pin-point glow of a Mercurian city. He turned to Jeffers.

"One question, Jeffers. What happened to the other men you rescued from the Federation Prison?"

"We've only pulled this stunt once before. The others died."

"On Venus?"

Jeffers looked sharply at Curt, then shrugged. "Sure, on Venus. We'll arrive there in exactly three days."

Rikert came up, wiping his hands on a piece of waste. "You know," he grinned, "even at the Prison word had a way of reaching us. Any truth to these stories about Aladdian throwing a guard around Venus?"

"We may run into the Imperial Guard. But I doubt if they'll have many patrollers where _we're_ going."

"Yeah? Where is that?"

Jeffers' dark face grinned at them. "Right into the K'Yarthan Swamp!" A sudden cry reached them from beyond the rocket-room. Lorine Landreth's voice! Curt was first to reach the corridor, then he stopped dead in his tracks.

They saw Kueelo, standing spraddle-legged in the middle of the corridor. An electro was in his hand. He turned it quickly toward the three men, and they fell back.

"He sneaked behind me and got my gun! Watch him, Jeffers, he'll use it!" The warning came from the girl. Curt saw her crouching out of range near a stateroom door, on the other side of Kueelo. "He can't cover us both. Easy, Jeffers."

"Get his gun, Emmons. Quick!" The Martian's voice came in an excited high pitch.

Curt saw Jeffers easing behind him, away from the line of fire; glimpsed his hand as it went for his gun. Curt whirled away, sliced his hand downward into Jeffers' wrist. The electro flamed once, then clattered to the floor. Jeffers leaped for it, but Curt threw his broad shoulders into a block that hurled the man aside. Then he came up with the gun, and backed towards Kueelo.

"Nice going, Emmons. Get to those controls! I'll keep them covered."

They were not quite free of Mercury's gravity, Curt realized as he felt the spacer surge erratically, threatening to go into a spin. He saw the tight smile on Kueelo's lips.

"Hurry, Emmons! We've got the ship now!"

Curt surged past the Martian. Then he whirled, clamped his free hand across the frail wrist holding the electro. A single twist, and Kueelo's fingers opened. Curt held both weapons.

"Get to those controls!" he snapped at Lorine Landreth.

She stared at him in blank astonishment, then leaped to the controls. A moment later the ship straightened out, and they were in free space. Kueelo's eyes were blazing pools of hate as he gazed at Curt Emmons.

Curt ignored him, turned to Jeffers and tossed him his weapon. "Here, put this away. I guess Kueelo can't wait to get back to Mars--but I'll settle for the K'Yarthan Swamp."

Jeffers levelled the electro. "The other gun, Emmons. It goes to Captain Landreth! Quick!"

Curt shrugged, walked forward and handed it to her.

She flashed him a smile. "Thanks for what you did, Emmons." She came and faced Kueelo, surveyed him coldly. "Little man, can't you wait to die? Let me assure you--another trick like that and you'll never see Mars again!"

Kueelo stalked away, eyes still blazing hatred.