On the Trail of the Space Pirates Part 7

"Wouldn't you know," moaned Roger, "that s.p.a.ce creep had to show up just when I had the whole campaign laid out in my mind." He gazed sadly at the pert heads of the girls in front of him.

Tom gave Astro a wink. "Poor Manning. All set to go hyperdrive and ran into s.p.a.ce junk before he cleared atmosphere."

Suddenly another explosion racked the s.h.i.+p and the rockets cut out all together. The pa.s.sengers began to look around nervously.

"By the craters of Luna, what was _that_?" demanded Tom, looking at Astro.

"The rockets have cut out," answered the Venusian. "Hope we're out in free fall, beyond the pull of Venus' gravity."

The forward hatch of the pa.s.senger cabin opened and Simms reappeared followed by Wallace.

"Take it easy, folks," said Wallace, "nothing to get excited about.

We're in free fall, holding a course around the planet. So just sit back and enjoy the view!"

A chorus of sighs filled the cabin and the pa.s.sengers began laughing and chatting again, pointing out various sights on the planet below them.

Smiling, Wallace and Simms marched down the aisle. Suddenly Roger and Tom rose and blocked their path.

"What's up, Wallace?" demanded Tom.

Wallace gave the two boys a hard look. "So it's you, huh? You got a lot of nerve coming aboard this s.h.i.+p."

"If there's something wrong, Wallace," said Tom, "maybe we could give you a hand."

"Get back in your seats," ordered Wallace. "We don't need any cadet squirts getting in our way!"

"Why, you overweight s.p.a.ce jockey," snapped Roger, "we know more about s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps than you'll ever learn!"

"One more crack out of you and I'll blast your ears off!" roared Wallace. _"Now sit down!"_

Roger's face turned a deep red and he moved toward Wallace, but Tom put out a restraining hand.

"Take it easy, Roger," he said. "Wallace is the skipper of this boiler.

In s.p.a.ce he's the boss."

"You bet I'm the boss," snarled Wallace. "Now keep that loud-mouthed punk quiet, or I'll wipe up the deck with him and send the pieces back to s.p.a.ce Academy!"

"Hey, Wallace," yelled Simms, who had walked away when the argument started. "Come on. We gotta fix that reactor unit!"

"Yeah--yeah," Wallace called back. He turned to Roger again. "Just remember what I said, cadet!" Brus.h.i.+ng the boys aside, he strode down the aisle to join Simms.

As the two men disappeared through the power-deck hatch, Tom turned to Roger and tried to calm him down. "Skippers are skippers, Roger, even aboard a piece of s.p.a.ce junk!"

"Yeah," growled Roger, "but I don't like to be called a squirt or a punk! Why, I know more about reactor units than--"

"Reactor units?" broke in Astro from his seat.

"Yeah. Didn't you hear what Simms said?"

"But this is a chemical burner," said Astro. "Why an atomic reactor unit aboard?"

"Might be a booster for extra speed," offered Tom. "And more power."

"On a simple hop like this? Hardly out of the atmosphere?" Astro shook his head. "No, Tom. It doesn't make sense."

"Well," chimed in Roger, "here's something else I've been wondering about. They charge one credit for this ride. Which makes a total of about fifty credits for a capacity load--"

"I get you," Tom interrupted. "It costs at least two hundred credits in fuel alone to get one of these chemical jalopies off the ground!"

Roger looked at Tom solemnly. "You know, Tom, I'd certainly like to know what those guys are doing. You just don't hand out free rides in s.p.a.ce."

"How about snooping around?" asked Astro.

Tom thought a moment. "O.K. You two stay here. I'll go aft and see what they're doing."

Tom walked quickly to the stern of the s.h.i.+p, entered the power-deck hatch, and disappeared. Astro and Roger, each taking one side of the s.h.i.+p, strained for a look from the viewports. In a few minutes Tom returned.

"Spot anything?" asked Roger.

"I'm not so sure," answered Tom. "They weren't on the power deck and the cargo hatch was locked. I looked out the stern viewport, but all I could see was a thick black cloud."

"Well, that's no help," said Roger. Suddenly the blond cadet snapped his fingers. "Tom, I'll bet they're smugglers!"

"What?" asked Tom.

"That's it," said Roger. "I'll bet that's it. The concession is just a phony to cover up their smuggling. It lets them take a load of stuff up without a custom's search. Then, when they're far enough out--"

"They dump it," supplied Astro.

"Right!" agreed Tom finally. "What better place to hide something than in s.p.a.ce?"

"For someone else to pick up later!" added Roger triumphantly.

When Wallace and Simms returned, the three cadets were busy looking out the viewports. And later, when the s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p was letting down over the exposition grounds, Tom commented on the ease with which the s.h.i.+p made her approach for a touchdown.

"Roger," asked Tom quietly, "notice how she's handling now?"

"How do you mean?" asked Roger.

"Going out," said Tom, "she wallowed like an old tub filled with junk.

Now, while she's no feather, there's a big difference in the way she's maneuvering!"

"Then they did dump something in s.p.a.ce!" said Roger.

"I'm sure of it!" said Tom. "And from now on, we're going to keep our eyes open and find out what it is!"

CHAPTER 4