On the Trail of the Space Pirates Part 24

"You called me Monkey and then lied about it! Maybe you're scared, eh?"

He slipped off the table and advanced toward Tom. The young cadet tried to figure a way out of the threatening fight. He wasn't afraid of the man, but he didn't want to draw attention to himself. And one of the surest ways of letting Wallace and Simms know he was aboard s.h.i.+p was to get into a fight. He couldn't risk discovery. He had to signal the Solar Guard before he was caught. But how to get around the hairy, drunken criminal now standing over him?

Tom looked up and saw that the man would not be put off. He would have to fight. He took notice of the powerful arms and shoulders, and decided his best bet would be to stay away, but glancing around quickly he saw there wasn't any room to retreat. The other prisoners were crowding around, eager to watch the fight. Suddenly his opponent let out an animal-like roar and jumped to pin him down on the deck.

The young cadet timed his move perfectly. As the man's body came down on him, he threw up both legs and caught him in the pit of his stomach. Tom could feel his feet sink deep into the man's mid-section as he kicked out hard and sent him sprawling against the bulkhead. With a bellow of rage, the hairy man picked himself up and charged back at Tom, who was now on his feet, braced to meet him.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _The young cadet timed his move perfectly_]

As the prisoners began to roar, Tom side-stepped and back-pedaled frantically, trying to get out of the impossible situation. If he won, there would be questions for him to answer. Questions that would be difficult and might betray his ident.i.ty. But if he allowed Monkey to win, he might die right there on the deck. The man was blind with rage and would stop at nothing.

The man rushed in again and, unable to back away, Tom felt the hairy arms close around him in the most powerful grip he had ever felt in his life. Slowly, evenly, Monkey applied pressure. Tom thought his ribs would crack. His head began to swim. The faces around him that laughed and jeered suddenly began to spin around him dizzily.

Then, with the desperation of a man facing death, Tom began to push outward, his arms under Monkey's chin. The man tried to apply more pressure but the cadet fought him, forcing his head back farther and farther. The prisoners were silent, watching the deadly battle. Then, gradually, Tom felt the hairy man's grip relaxing. With the last ounce of his strength he burst out of the encircling arms and staggered back.

The ape man looked at him stupidly and then down at his arms as if they had betrayed him. With a roar, he came rus.h.i.+ng in again. Tom set himself, left foot forward, shoulders hunched, and when Monkey came within arm's length, he swung with all the strength he had left in his body. His fist landed on the point of Monkey's chin. There was a distinct sound of crus.h.i.+ng bone and Monkey sank to the deck, out cold.

Gasping for breath, Tom stood over the sprawled man and just looked at him. The crowd around him was staring at the fallen man in disbelief.

Through the roaring in his head, Tom could hear their voices, "He broke out of Monkey's grip!" "He broke the guy's jaw with one punch!"

Tom turned blindly to the corner where he had been sitting and slumped to the deck. Someone shoved a cup in his hands and he gulped its contents blindly, hardly tasting the foul rocket juice or feeling it burning his throat.

The cadet was sure now that he would be caught. Monkey had been a popular member of the crew and some of his friends were certain to even the score. But to Tom's surprise, there were no questions and a few of the men came over to pat him drunkenly on the back. A couple of them dragged the unconscious man out of the compartment and up to sick bay.

The others soon forgot the fight and continued their merrymaking.

Tom sat alone and silent in the corner, his strength returning slowly.

He had faced his first obstacle and had won. But he knew that what lay ahead of him made the fight insignificant by comparison. He decided his next move would be to acquaint himself with the s.h.i.+p and, if possible, get a paralo-ray gun.

As the men continued their drunken singing and yelling he mumbled an excuse about soaking his fist in cold water and managed to escape from the crowded compartment.

Outside in the pa.s.sageway, the cadet began to figure out the plan of the s.h.i.+p, first locating the power deck by its roaring purr. He climbed a ladder to the next deck, walked slowly down the pa.s.sageway toward what he thought to be the control room, and leaned against the hatch. He heard the soft tinkle of a radar signal and his heart skipped a beat. He had stumbled onto the astrogation and radar bridge. Wondering if he should burst into the room and attempt to overpower the men on duty, or wait for a better chance later, he was suddenly startled by a sharp voice in back of him.

"You--s.p.a.ceman!" Tom turned to stare right into the face of Bull c.o.xine!

The big man looked at Tom with piercing eyes.

"What's your name?" demanded c.o.xine.

"Uh--uh--they call me the s.p.a.ce Kid!" he finally managed.

"s.p.a.ce Kid, eh?" mused c.o.xine. "I don't remember seeing you on the Rock."

"They held me in the tower for a month trying to make me take the psychograph rehabilitation. I got out when the blasting started."

"What were you on the Rock for?" asked c.o.xine. "You're pretty young to be sent to the Rock."

Tom thought desperately of a crime he could have committed that would send him to the prison asteroid. Suddenly he got an idea. He looked at c.o.xine and spoke in as harsh a voice as he could.

"Listen," he snarled, "I just broke Monkey's jaw for treating me like a kid. I hope you don't crowd me into fighting you by asking so many questions. Y'see I won't answer them and then you'll have to freeze me."

Tom paused and tried to gauge c.o.xine's reaction. But he couldn't see a thing in the cold staring eyes. "And," Tom continued, "if you freeze me, you'll lose a better man than most of the sc.u.m in your crew!"

c.o.xine stepped forward and towered over the curly-haired cadet. When he spoke, his deep voice echoed in the deserted pa.s.sageway.

"What was your rating as s.p.a.ceman before you hit the Rock?" asked the big man.

Tom's heart raced. If he could get to the control deck or the radar bridge, he could send his signal easily. But he realized quickly that in either of these places he would be spotted almost immediately by Wallace or Simms. He had to stay away from them and wait for a later chance.

Tom's mind raced.

"I was a gunner on a deep s.p.a.cer," he drawled confidently. "I can take the s.p.a.ce tan off a crawler's nose at a hundred thousand yards with anything from a two-inch to a six-inch blaster."

c.o.xine's eyes sharpened. "Where did you learn to use a six-incher?

They're only on heavy cruisers of the Solar Guard!"

Tom could have bitten his tongue off. He had slipped. He thought quickly. "I was an enlisted s.p.a.ceman in the Solar Guard."

"Why'd you get sent to the Rock?"

"My officer was a smart-alec lieutenant just out of s.p.a.ce Academy. We got in a fight--" Tom didn't finish the sentence.

"And you were kicked out, eh?"

"No, sir," said Tom. "I hit him so hard--he never woke up again. I had to blast out of there, but they caught me."

"All right," said c.o.xine. "Report to the gunnery chief. Tell him I said you're second-in-command." The big man turned and walked away from the cadet without another word.

Tom watched him disappear and smiled. He had faced two impossible situations, the fight with Monkey and now this meeting, and he had come out on top in each. Perhaps he had a chance, after all.

CHAPTER 13

"Any report from the search squadrons yet, Steve?" asked Commander Walters.

"No, sir," replied Captain Strong. "We're concentrating on the asteroid belt, but so far we've drawn a blank."

"Well, keep trying and let me know the minute something turns up," said Walters.

"Yes, sir," said Strong, saluting his commanding officer as the elder s.p.a.ceman left the room. He turned back to a large desk in the center of the room where Roger Manning was busy noting figures on a large chart, showing the areas already covered and listing the squadrons engaged in the search.

As Strong leaned over his shoulder, Roger placed a finger on the chart.

"Squadron Ten has just completed a search of all asteroids in their a.s.signed area," he said, then added laconically, "Nothing."

Strong studied the chart a moment. "Well, we'll have to keep it up," he said. "It's the only way we'll find them. A systematic search of the belt from end one to the other." He paused and then muttered, "Only one thing I'm worried about."

"What's that, sir?" asked Roger.

"That when we do find them, it'll be too late to help Tom."

"You really think he's aboard c.o.xine's s.h.i.+p, Captain Strong?"