"We're through fooling," the voice said. "You'd better get down here.

And bring your brother with you."

"Sure," Greg said. "Start holding your breath."

The contact broke for a moment, then clicked on again. This time it was another voice. "We've got Johnny Coombs down here," it said. "You want him to stay alive, you start moving. Without your stunner."

Greg chewed his lip. They could be bluffing ... but they might not be.

"I want to see Johnny," he said.

On the control panel a viewscreen flickered to life. "Take a look, then," the voice said in his earphones.

They had Johnny, all right. A burly guard was holding his good arm behind his back. Greg could see the speaker wires jerked loose from his helmet.

"It's up to you," the voice said. "You've got three minutes. If you're not down here by then, this helmet comes off and your friend goes out the lock. It's quick that way, but it's not very pleasant."

Johnny was shaking his head violently; the guard wrenched at his arm, and the miner's face twisted in pain. "Two minutes," the voice said.

"Okay," Greg said. "I'm coming down."

"Drop the stunner right there."

He dropped the weapon onto the deck. Three steps out into the corridor, and two guards were there to meet him, stunners raised. They marched him up the ramp to the outer level corridor and around to No. 3 lock.

They were waiting there with Johnny. A moment later the guards herded them through the lock and into the hold of the Ranger ship, stripped off their suits, and searched them.

A big man with a heavy face and coa.r.s.e black hair came into the cabin.

He looked at Johnny and Greg and grunted. "You must be Hunter," he said to Greg. "Where's the other one?"

"What other one?" Greg said.

"Your brother. Where is he?"

"How would I know?" Greg said.

The man's face darkened. "You'd be smart to watch your tongue," he said.

"We know there were three of you, we want the other one."

The man turned to a guard. "What about it?"

"Don't know, Doc. n.o.body's reported him."

"Then take a crew and search the ship. We were due back hours ago. He's in there somewhere."

"Sure, Doc." The guard disappeared through the lock. The man called Doc motioned Greg and Johnny through into the main cabin.

"What are you planning to do with us?" Greg demanded.

"You'll find out soon enough." Doc's mouth twisted angrily.

A guard burst into the cabin. "Doc, there's just n.o.body there! We've scoured the ship."

"You think he just floated away in his s.p.a.ce suit?" Doc growled. "_Find him._ Tawney only needs one of them, but we can't take a chance on the other one getting back...." He broke off, his eyes on the viewscreen.

"Did you check those scout ships?"

"No, I thought...."

"Get down there and check them." Doc turned back to the viewscreen impatiently.

Greg caught Johnny's eye, saw the big miner's worried frown. "Where is he?" he whispered.

"I don't know. Thought you did...."

"All I know is that he had some kind of scheme in mind."

"Shut up," Doc said to them. "If you're smart, you'll be strapping down before we...." He broke off in mid sentence, listening.

Quite suddenly, the Ranger ship had begun to vibrate. Somewhere, far away, there was the m.u.f.fled rumble of engines.

Doc whirled to the viewscreen. Greg and Johnny looked at the same instant, and Johnny groaned.

Below them, the _Scavenger_'s jets were flaring. First the pale starter flame, then a long stream of fire, growing longer as the engines developed thrust.

Doc slammed down a switch, roared into a speaker. "That scout ship ... stop it! He's trying to make a break!"

Two guards appeared at the lock almost instantly, but it was too late.

Already she was straining at her magnetic cable moorings; then the exhaust flared, and the little scout ship leaped away from the orbit-ship, moving out at a tangent to the asteroid's...o...b..t, picking up speed, moving faster and faster....

In toward the orbit of Mars.

The man called Doc had gone pale. Now he snapped on the speaker again.

"Frank? Stand by on missile control. He's asking for it."

"Right," the voice came back. "I'm sighting in."

The _Scavenger_ was moving fast now, dwindling in the viewscreen. One panel of the screen went telescopic to track her. "All right," Doc said.

"Fire one and two."

From both sides of the Ranger, tiny rockets flared. Like twin bullets the homing sh.e.l.ls moved out, side by side, in the track of the escaping _Scavenger_. With a strangled cry, Greg leaped forward, but Johnny caught his arm.

"Johnny, _Tom's on ... that thing_...."

"I know. But he's got a chance."

Already the homing sh.e.l.ls were out of sight; only the twin flares were visible. Greg stared helplessly at the tiny light-spot of the _Scavenger_. At first she had been moving straight, but now she was dodging and twisting, her side-jets flaring at irregular intervals. The twin pursuit sh.e.l.ls mimicked each change in course, drawing closer to her every second.

And then there was a flash, so brilliant it nearly blinded them, and the _Scavenger_ burst apart in s.p.a.ce. The second sh.e.l.l struck a fragment; there was another flash. Then there was nothing but a nebulous powdering of tiny metal fragments.

The last run of the _Scavenger_ had ended.