The Revolt on Venus Part 14

"Omigos.h.!.+" said Astro. "It is, but what's the matter with him? Why is he standing there like that?"

"He's been paralo-rayed!" exclaimed Roger. "See how still he is!

Whatever these jokers in uniforms are, they're not friendly!" He raised his shock rifle. "This last shot in my blaster should--"

"Wait a minute, Roger," said Tom, "don't go off half-c.o.c.ked. We can't do much with just three shots. We'd better take over one of these s.h.i.+ps.

There must be guns aboard."

"Yeah," said Astro. "How about that big one over there?" He pointed to the largest of the a.s.sembled crafts.

"O.K.," said Tom. "Sneak around this side and make a dash for it."

Gripping their rifles, they slipped around the stern of the small s.h.i.+p, and keeping a wary eye on the milling men around the front of the building, they dashed toward the bigger s.h.i.+p.

On the porch of the main house, Major Connel, every muscle in his body paralyzed, saw the three cadets dart across the field and his heart skipped a beat. Immediately before him, two of the green-clad men were holding Sinclair while Hilmarc addressed him arrogantly.

"This is just the beginning, Sinclair. Don't try to cross us again.

Neither you nor anyone else can stop us!" He whirled around and faced Connel. "And as for you and your Solar Guard, Major Connel, you can tell them--"

Hilmarc's tirade was suddenly interrupted by a shrill whistle and the glare of a red flare overhead. There was a chorus of shouts as the men ducked for cover.

A voice, Connel recognized as Tom's, boomed out over the loud-speaker of the large jet s.h.i.+p near the edge of the clearing. "Now hear this! You are covered by an atomic mortar. Drop your guns and raise your hands!"

The men stared at the s.h.i.+p, confused, but Hilmarc issued a curt command.

"Return to the s.h.i.+ps!"

"But--but he'll blast us," whined one of the men. "He'll kill us all."

"You fool!" roared Hilmarc. "It must be a friend of Connel's or Sinclair's. He won't dare fire an atomic sh.e.l.l near this house, for fear of killing his friends! Now get aboard your s.h.i.+ps and blast off!"

From their s.h.i.+p, Tom, Roger, and Astro saw the men scatter across the field, and realizing their bluff had failed, they opened fire with the paralo-ray guns. But their range was too far. In a few moments the clearing around the Sinclair home was alive with the coughing roar of the jets blasting off.

As soon as they were alone, Sinclair s.n.a.t.c.hed up an abandoned ray gun and released the major from the charge. Connel immediately jumped for another gun. But then, as the jets started to take off, he saw that it would be useless to pursue the invaders. Thankful that the cadets had arrived in time, he trotted across the clearing to meet them as they climbed wearily from the remaining jet s.h.i.+p.

"By the craters of Luna," he roared good-naturedly, "you three s.p.a.ce-brained idiots had me scared! I thought you would really let go with that mortar!"

Tom and Roger grinned, relieved to find the s.p.a.ceman unhurt, while Astro looked off at the disappearing fleet of s.h.i.+ps.

"What's happened, sir?" asked Tom. "What's it all about?"

"Haven't time to explain now," said Connel. "I just want you three to know you got back here in time to save the rest of this man's property."

He turned toward Sinclair, who was just approaching. "Did you recognize any of them?" he asked the planter.

Sinclair shook his head. "I thought I did--by their voices, I mean. But I couldn't see anyone through that frosted headgear they were wearing."

"Well, they left a s.h.i.+p. We'll find out who that belongs to," said Connel. "All right, Corbett, Manning, Astro. Stand by to blast off!"

"Blast off?" exclaimed Roger. "But we're on leave, sir!"

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Not any more, you're not!" snapped Connel. "You're recalled as of now!

Get this s.h.i.+p ready to blast off for Venusport in five minutes!"

CHAPTER 8

"Are you sure they went south, Astro?"

Major Connel was examining a map of the Southern Hemisphere of Venus.

The three cadets were grouped around him in the small control room of the jet s.h.i.+p.

"I think so, sir," replied Astro. "I watched them circle and then climb.

There would be no reason to climb unless they were going over the mountains."

"What do you think, Tom?" asked Connel.

"I don't know, sir. The map doesn't show anything but jungle for about a thousand square miles. Unless there's a secret base somewhere between here and there"--he placed his fingers on the map where the Sharkey and Sinclair plantations were marked--"I don't see where they could have gone."

"Well, that must be the answer, then," sighed the gruff s.p.a.ceman. "Our alert to the patrol s.h.i.+ps in this area narrows it down. Nothing was spotted in the air. And they couldn't have blasted off into s.p.a.ce. All their s.h.i.+ps were low-flying stuff."

Blasting off from the Sinclair plantation immediately, the three cadets and the major had hoped to find the operations base of the green-clad invaders, but the s.h.i.+ps had disappeared. The s.h.i.+p they had captured proved to be a freighter with no name and all identifying marks removed.

They had asked the Solar Guard s.h.i.+p registry in Venusport to check on the vessel's t.i.tle but so far had received no answer.

Now blasting back to Venusport at full speed, Connel told the boys the real nature of his mission to Venus. The boys were shocked, unable to believe that anyone, or any group of persons, would dare to buck the authority of the Solar Guard. Yet they had seen with their own eyes a demonstration of the strength of the Nationalists. Roger had sent a top-secret teleceiver message to Commander Walters at s.p.a.ce Academy, requesting an immediate conference with Connel, and had received confirmation within a half-hour.

"I think Captain Strong will be along too," said Roger to Tom after Connel had retired to a compartment with a recorder to transcribe a report of the affair at Sinclair's. "The message said we were to prepare a full report for consideration by Commander Walters, Professor Sykes, and Captain Strong."

"Boy," said the curly-haired cadet, "this thing is too big for me to swallow. Imagine a bunch of dopes dressing up in uniforms and burning a guy's buildings because he wrote a letter to his delegate!"

"I'd hate to be a member of that organization when Commander Walters gets through with them," said Roger in a slow drawl. "And particularly the guy that ordered Connel blasted with that ray gun. Ten shots at once! Wow! That guy must have nerves made of steel!"

Within an hour the jet freighter was circling Venusport and was given priority clearance for an immediate landing. Immediately upon landing, the s.h.i.+p swarmed with Solar Guardsmen, grim-faced men a.s.signed to guard it, while technicians checked the s.h.i.+p for identification. The three boys were still wearing the jungle garb when they presented themselves to Major Connel with the request for a little sleep.

"Take an aspirin!" roared Connel. "We've got important work to do!"

"But, sir," said Roger, his eyes half-closed, "we're dead on our feet!

We've been out in the jungle for three days and--"

"Manning," interrupted the s.p.a.ceman, "everything you saw during that business back at Sinclair's might be valuable. I'm sorry, but I'll have to insist that you talk to the Solar Guard security officers first. As tired as you are, you might forget something after a heavy sleep."

There was little else the boys could do but follow the burly officer out of the s.h.i.+p to a well-guarded jet cab which took them through the streets of Venusport to the Solar Guard headquarters.

They rode the elevator to the conference room in silence, each boy feeling at any moment that he would collapse from exhaustion. In the long corridor they pa.s.sed tough-looking enlisted guardsmen who were heavily armed, and before being allowed into the conference room, they were scrutinized by a burly officer. Finally inside, they were allowed to sit down in soft chairs and were given hot cups of tea to drink while precise, careful interrogators took down the story of their first meeting with the Venusian Nationalists. They were forced to repeat details many times, in the hope that something new might be added.

Groggy after nearly two hours of this, the boys felt sure that the time had come for them to be allowed to get some sleep, but after the last question from the interrogators, they were ushered into the presence of Commander Walters, Major Connel, Professor Sykes, Captain Strong, and several recording secretaries. Before the conference began, Delegate E.

Philips James arrived with his personal secretary. He offered his excuses for being late and took his place at the long table. Tom shot a glance at the secretary. The man looked vaguely familiar to him. The cadet tried to place him, but he was so tired that he could not think.