because of the shielding necessary . . . but Brandon and Westfall have been doing a lot
of arguing . . . anyway, I don’t see that it makes any difference to us. We’ll just have to
admit that they’ve got a better power system than we have—as of now. Well, maybe
we’ve given them time enough to get over being suspicious; let’s see if we can sneak
away from them.”
By short and infrequent applications of power to the dirigible projectors of the life-
boat, Stevens slowly shifted the position of the fragment which bore their craft until it
was well clear of the other components of the mass of wreckage. He then exerted a
very small retarding force, so that their bit would lag behind the procession, as though it
had accidentally been separated. But the crew of the captor were alert, and no sooner
did a clear space show itself between them and the mass than a ray picked them up
and herded them back into place. Stevens then nudged other pieces so that they fell
out, only to see them also rounded up. For hour after hour he kept trying—doing nothing
sufficiently energetic to create any suspicion, but attempting everything he could think of
that offered any chance of escape from the clutches of their captors. Immovable at the
plate, his hands upon the controls, he performed every insidious maneuver his agile
brain could devise, but he could not succeed in separating their vehicle from its fellows.
Finally, after a last attempt which was foiled as easily as its predecessors, he shut off
his controls and turned to his companion with a grin.
“I didn’t think I could get away with it—they’re keen, that gang—but I had to keep
at it as long as it would have done us any good.”
“Wouldn’t it do us any good now ?”
“Not a bit—we’re going so fast that we couldn’t stop —we’re out of even radio
range of our closest power-plant. We’ll have to put off any more attempts until they slow
us down. Then, fairly close to at least one of the moons of Jupiter, we’ll have our best
chance—so good, in fact, that I really think we can make it.”
“But what good would that do us, if we couldn’t get back?” Dire foreboding
showed in her glorious eyes.
“Lots of things not tried yet, girl, and we’ll try ’em all. First, we get away. Second,
we try to get in touch with Norman Brandon. . . . .”
“How ? No known radio will carry half that far.”
“No, but I think that an as yet unknown radio may be able to—and there is a bare
possibility that I’ll be able to communicate.”
“Oh, wonderful — that lifts a frightful load off my mind,” she breathed.
“But just a minute — I said I’d come clean with you, and I will. The odds are all
against us, no matter what we do. If that unknown radio won’t work — and it probably
won’t—there are several other things we can try, but they’re all pretty slim chances.
Even if we get away, it’ll probably be about the same thing as though you were to be
marooned on a desert island without any tools, and with your rescue depending upon
your ability to build a high-powered radio station with which to call to a mainland for
help. However, if we don’t try to get away, our only alternative is letting them know we’re
here, and joining our friends in captivity.”
“And then what?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Imprisonment and restraint, certain; death,
possible; return to Earth, almost certainly impossible—life as guests, highly improbable.”
“I’m with you, Steve, all the way.”
“Well, it’s ‘way past sleep-time1—we’ve both been awake better than fifty hours.
I’m all in and you look like a spent force. We’ll get us a bite of supper and turn in.”
An appetizing supper was prepared from the abundant stores and each ate a
heartier meal than either would have believed possible. Stevens considered his
unopened package of cigarettes, then regretfully put it back into his pocket still
unopened and turned to Nadia.
“You might as well sleep here, and I’ll go in there. If anything scares you, yell.
Good-night, little fellow.”
“Wait a minute, Steve.” Nadia flushed, and her brown eyes and black eyebrows,
in comparison with her golden-blonde hair, lent her face a quizzical, elfin expression
that far belied her feelings as she stared straight into his eyes. “I’ve never even been
away from the Earth before, and with all this happening, I’m simply scared to death. I’ve
been trying to hide it, but I couldn’t stand it alone, and we’re going to be together too
long and too close for senseless conventions to affect us. There’s two bunks over there,
close together—why don’t you sleep in one of them ?”
He returned her steadfast gaze for a moment in silence.
“All x with me,” he answered, keeping out of his voice all signs of the tenderness
he felt for her, and of his very real admiration for her straightforward conduct in a
terrifying situation. “You trust me, then?”
“Trust you! Don’t be silly—I know you! I know you, and I know Brandon and
Westfall—I know what you’ve done, and exactly the kind of men you are. Trust you?
Don’t be a sap!”
“Thanks, Nadia,” and promises were made and received in a clasp from which
Nadia’s right hand, strong as it was, emerged slightly damaged.
“By the way, what is your first name, fellow-traveler ?” she asked in lighter vein.
“Nobody, not even Dad or Breckie, ever seems to call you anything but ‘Steve’ when
they talk about you.” She was amazed at the effect of her innocent question,-for
Stevens flushed to his hair and spluttered.
“It’s Percy!” he snorted. “Percival Van Schravendyck Stevens. Wouldn’t that tear
it?”
“Why, I think Percival’s a real nice name!”
“Silence!” he hissed in burlesque style. “Young woman, I have revealed to you a
secret known to but few living creatures. On your very life, keep it inviolate!”
“Oh, very well, if you insist. Good-night. . . . . Steve!” and she gave him a radiant
and honest smile; the first smile he had seen since the moment of the attack.
CHAPTER 3 Castaways Upon Ganymede
Upon awakening, the man’s first care was to instruct the girl in the operation of the
projectors, so that she could keep the heavily-armored edge of their small section,
which she had promptly christened The Forlorn Hope, between them and the grinding,
clashing mass of wreckage, and thus protect the relatively frail inner portions of their
craft from damage.
“Keep an eye on things for a while, Nadia,” he instructed, as soon as she could
handle the controls, “and don’t use any more power than is absolutely necessary. We’ll
need it all, and besides, they can probably detect anything we can use. There’s
probably enough leakage from the ruptured accumulator cells to mask quite a little
emission, but don’t use much. I’m going to see what I can do about making this whole
wedge navigable.”
“Why not just launch what’s left of this lifeboat? It’s space-worthy, isn’t it ?”
“Yes, but it’s too small. Two or three of the big dirigible projectors of the lower
band are on the rim of this piece-of-pie-shaped section we’re riding, I think. If so, and if
enough batteries of accumulators are left intact to give them anywhere nearly full power,
we can get an acceleration that will make a lifeboat look sick. Those main dirigibles, you
know, are able to swing the whole mass of the Arcturus, and what they’ll do to this one
chunk of it—we’ve got only a few thousand tons of mass in this piece—will be
something pretty. Also, having the metal may save us months of time in mining it.”
He found the projectors, repaired or cut out the damaged accumulator cells, and
reconnected them through the controls of the lifeboat. He moved into the “engine-room”
the airtanks, stores, and equipment from all the other fragments which, by means of a
space-suit, he could reach without too much difficulty. He helped himself to banks of
accumulator cells from the enormous driving batteries of the ill-fated Arcturus, bolting
them down and connecting them solidly until almost every compartment of their craft
was one mass of stored-up energy.
Days fled like hours, so furiously busy were they in preparing their peculiar
vessel for a cruise of indefinite duration. Stevens cut himself short on sleep and
snatched his meals in passing; and Nadia, when not busy at her own tasks of
observing, housekeeping, and doing what little piloting was required, was rapidly
learning to wield effectively the spanner and pliers of the mechanic and electrician.
“I’m afraid our time is getting short, Steve,” she announced after making an
observation. “It looks as though we’re getting there—wherever it is we’re going.”
“Well, I’ve got only two more jobs to do, but they’re the hardest of the lot. Is it