On the Trail of the Space Pirates Part 31

"No time for celebrating," barked Strong. "We haven't caught him yet.

He's the slickest thing to hit this system since the reptiles climbed out of the Venusian mud! It's going to be a case of our getting him before he can disappear into the asteroid belt, so let's. .h.i.t the high, wide, and deep!"

Five minutes later, Strong and the boys were aboard their s.h.i.+p.

"Ready to blast off, sir," reported Tom. The curly-haired cadet's face was still pale and drawn, showing the effects of his ordeal in s.p.a.ce.

"Get me direct teleceiver contact with Captain Randolph on the rocket cruiser _Sirius_," ordered Strong.

"Yes, sir," replied Tom. He turned to flip on the teleceiver, and a moment later the captain's face appeared on the screen.

"Randolph here. What's up, Steve?"

"I've got Squadron Nineteen of the Martian reserve fleet heading for the last reported position of the _Avenger_ now, Randy. I'll take the point position of your squadron and direct operations. I'll relay course to you as soon as we're in s.p.a.ce."

"O.K., Steve," replied Randolph. "I'm ready to raise s.h.i.+p."

"I'll go up first. Form up around me at about five thousand miles. End transmission!"

"End transmission!"

"All right, Tom," ordered Strong, "let's get out of here!"

The young cadet strapped himself into his acceleration chair, then picked up the control panel intercom and began calling out orders crisply.

"Stand by to raise s.h.i.+p! All stations check in!"

"Power deck standing by!" replied Astro from below.

"Radar bridge standing by!" acknowledged Roger over the intercom.

"Energize the cooling pumps!"

The whine of the mighty pumps began to fill the s.h.i.+p almost as quickly as Astro acknowledged the order.

"Feed reactant!" snapped Strong, strapping himself in beside Tom.

A low-muted hiss joined the sound of the whining pumps as Tom opened the valves. "Reactant feeding at D-9 rate, sir," he reported.

"Roger," called Strong into the intercom, "do we have a clear trajectory?"

"Clear as s.p.a.ce, skipper!" was Roger's breezy answer.

"All right, Tom," said Strong, "cut in take-off gyros."

The cadet closed the master switch on the control panel and the noise from the power deck below began to build to an unbearable crescendo!

Watching the sweeping second hand of the chronometer, Tom called out, "Blast off minus five--four--three--two--one--_zero_!"

With a mighty roar, all main rockets of the s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p exploded into life. Shuddering under the sudden surge of power, the s.h.i.+p rose from the ground, accelerated at the rate of seven miles per second, and arrowed into the sky, s.p.a.ce-borne!

On the Academy s.p.a.ceport, s.h.i.+ps of Squadron L began to blast off one by one behind the _Polaris_ at ten-second intervals. Three rocket cruisers, six destroyers, and twelve rocket scouts. The explosive blast of one hardly rolling away across the surrounding hills before another deafening blast lifted the next s.p.a.ce vessel away from Earth.

Aboard the _Polaris_, Roger was busy over the chart table plotting the course when Strong appeared at his side.

"Have that course for you in a minute, sir," said Roger. He turned to the astrogation prism and made careful observations of Regulus, the fixed star always used in astrogation. He jotted several numbers down on a piece of paper, rechecked them against a table of relative values and handed the papers to Strong.

The captain immediately opened the teleceiver and relayed the information to other s.h.i.+ps of the squadron. After the _Polaris_ had made the course change, the s.h.i.+ps followed, taking positions all around the lead vessel.

Like fingers of a giant hand, the Solar Guard squadrons converged on the reported position of the disabled _Avenger_. From every s.h.i.+p, radar scanners probed the s.p.a.ce ahead with invisible electronic fingers for contact with the target. On the _Polaris_, Strong, his nimble brain figuring c.o.xine's possibilities of escape, hunched over the chart table and worked at plotting alternate courses on which he could send pursuit squadrons on a moment's notice. One thing worried Strong, and that was if c.o.xine should repair his s.h.i.+p and make the security of the asteroid belt before they could reach him, it would be almost impossible to track him through that tortuous maze of s.p.a.ce junk.

Squadron Ten was the first to sight the enemy s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p, though it was too far away to attack. The commander reported his finding to Strong immediately.

"We still have quite a way to go before we reach him, Strong. But if our luck holds out, we might be able to pin him down in a wide circle."

Strong studied the chart and marked the position of the _Avenger_ just reported. He compared the position to that of the other fleet s.h.i.+ps and decided that they were still too far away to tighten a ring of armor around the pirate. Strong was well aware that if the Solar Guard could spot c.o.xine, he in turn could spot them. Luck, mused Strong to himself, was what they needed now. A little luck to keep the pirate from repairing his s.h.i.+p and disappearing into the asteroid belt. He grabbed the intercom and bawled orders.

"Power deck, emergency s.p.a.ce speed. Control deck, relay that order to every s.h.i.+p converging on the _Avenger's_ position!"

"What's up, sir?" asked Tom from below.

"One of the s.h.i.+ps has spotted c.o.xine. He's apparently still out of commission, but we're too far away to hail him."

Strong began to pace the deck of the radar bridge, and with each turn, he glanced at the radar scanner where Roger was waiting anxiously for the telltale blip of the _Avenger_ to appear.

Suddenly the blond-haired cadet stiffened. He peered at the scanner screen, then cried, "There he is, sir!" His finger pointed to a white outline on the scanner.

Strong took a quick look at the pirate's position and compared it to the positions of the converging fleet. He turned to the teleceiver and signaled for the immediate attention of all s.h.i.+ps.

"This is Strong aboard the flags.h.i.+p _Polaris_! All s.h.i.+ps will proceed according to attack plan seventeen--code nine. Use full power! Emergency thrust!"

As the minutes pa.s.sed and the Solar Guard fleet plunged forward, the s.h.i.+ps forged a solid wall of guns around the drifting pirate vessel.

From above, below, and almost every compa.s.s point on the plan of the ecliptic, they closed in, deadly blasters aimed, gunners ready to fire.

"We've got him, sir!" breathed Roger. "He can't escape now! Not in a million light years!"

Captain Strong didn't reply. Eyes were glued to the scanner, watching the target and the Solar Guard squadrons, searching for every possible loophole in the trap. Suddenly he spoke into the teleceiver.

"Attention all s.h.i.+ps! Maintain present range, reduce speed, and take englobement formation!"

In reply, the elements of the fleet smoothly reformed until they formed a giant wheel in s.p.a.ce with the pirate s.h.i.+p as the hub. Around and around they flew, all inboard guns trained on the enemy.

As the command s.h.i.+p, the _Polaris_ flew high over the formation. Strong checked the formation carefully on the scanner and nodded his satisfaction.

"I think we've done it now, Manning," he sighed. "c.o.xine doesn't have a chance of breaking through."

Roger looked unhappy. "Ah, it was too easy, sir," he grumbled. "I was counting on having some fun."

"After all these weeks of heartache, I'll skip the fun if you don't mind," said Strong wryly and turned to the intercom. "Tom, check in!"