As the program Zimbardo had activated was engaged, the power it required began draining the emergency resources of the asteroid. The lights dimmed and the usual hum of the atmosphere recycler began to stutter.

"What did you do?" Gene asked with trepidation. "Even the backup power system is being strained."

"Just keeping a promise," said Zimbardo jovially. "I told Earth I had sent them an asteroid. I wasn't very truthful at the time, I'm afraid.

But now I have kept my promise. I have redirected the asteroid so that it will collide with the planet! -and I've pushed the acceleration up to full!"

A soul-wrenching moan escaped from Gene's lips. He stumbled over to his chair and collapsed into it. He stared ahead, seeing nothing. The other men were frozen in their places.

Zimbardo strolled over to the wall-screen that provided a map of the Inner Planetary system and indicated their position. With the power drain, the images were going in and out of focus and numbers were fading from the screen.

"Hmm. About ten days to impact," he muttered. "Can't tell for sure with the images fading like this, but no matter. By that time we'll be long gone."

A few minutes later the insides of the complex began to screech as they had before. The screech did not rise in intensity but gradually turned into a groan. The light slowly faded and then went out completely.

"The power is out for good now!" Gene wailed. "and we're prisoners on the asteroid! Now it's a runaway! We can't stop it!"

"Why would we want to stop it? We'll take the Tartarus and leave to fight again another day! Pack up, get the men, and let's go. We've got less than three hours, I think you said."

Panicked, Gene fled from the room, feeling his way desperately through the darkness. "I've got to warn Kimball, Lorry, and Jenner! We've got to escape!" Fear unlike anything he had ever experienced or imagined filled his entire being.

19: Change of Guard

GENE FLEW down the corridor with his arms outstretched, not knowing exactly where he was going and not caring, as long as it was away from the control deck. He was breathing hard and fast, on the verge of hysteria. Realizing that he was in danger of losing his grip, he paused to catch his breath, and leaned against the wall.

A moment later he saw moving lights in the stairwell a long way ahead.

In the growing gray illumination, he dashed forward and saw Kimball, Lorry, and Jenner coming up, carrying flashlights. When Kimball saw Gene hurrying toward him, he flashed the light directly into his eyes and roared, "What in blazes is going on in this place?"

Gene threw his hands up over his eyes, but continued to stumble forward. "You've got to get out of here," he choked out. "Get your men, get your ships, go!"

Jenner put a firm hand on Gene's shoulder, and Kimball lowered the light. "What's going on? Where's Zimbardo?" Jenner's voice was a little quieter than Kimball's but just as demanding.

Gene gulped and looked up. "He-, he's aimed the asteroid at Earth! It's on a collision course! He burned out all the power-all the power! He can't stop it! He doesn't want to stop it!"

There was a stunned silence. Jenner, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, finally blurted out, "Why did he do that?"

"All the men in the fleets have been captured! We're the only ones left, and s.p.a.ce Command will be boarding us in less than three hours!"

The three smugglers gasped in dismay. Jenner pushed Gene away and the three of them shot back down the stairwell. When they reached the lower level, Gene heard them shouting for their men. The light gradually diminished until Gene was once again in complete darkness.

"Gene! Gene! Where are you?" came the voice of Lurton Zimbardo from far behind him. Startled, Gene quickly whirled and peered into the darkness. From far away came a sound as of scurrying feet. There were men coming-the men from the control center, with Zimbardo. Gene spun again and ran for his own room. He had decided what he was going to do.

Frantically he rummaged through his belongings until he found his own flashlight. Without turning it on yet, he ran from the room and hastened farther away from the control center.

"Gene? Gene! Is that you?" came the voice of Lurton Zimbardo. Gene inhaled quickly and looked back. There was still no light. He hesitated for a moment, then answered,

"Yes, it's me." His voice was squeaky.

"Where are you?" echoed down the corridor.

"I'm not going with you! Go on without me!"

"What?" Zimbardo's voice had a note of complete incredulity in it. "Why not? Hurry up, Gene! We have to go! I don't want s.p.a.ce Command on my tail!"

"I'm not going!" Gene shouted. He turned and fled. He sped down the corridor as fast as he could go, came to its end, turned the corner, and kept going. In less than a minute he was many turns and twists away from the main level. He switched on his light, put it on its lowest setting, and slowed down to a walk. "He won't wait for me! He won't look for me! He'll want to go! Soon he'll be gone and I'll be safe!"

These thoughts came through Gene's mind almost like a flow of clear water.

He came to a storeroom, pushed the door open, and flashed his light around. The room was crammed with stacks of boxes and various other items. Seeing there was no one else inside, he shut the door, crawled under a cabinet, and turned off his light.

After a short while, he felt the floor tremble slightly. He knew that a s.p.a.ceship had lifted off. It was followed quickly by five others. "The smugglers are gone," he thought. "Just one more now. If I hear one more, I'll know that he's gone." He waited, desperately hoping he wouldn't hear the sound of the door opening.

After they left Gene, the smugglers Kimball, Lorry, and Jenner quickly gathered together their men and supplies and headed for the airlock to the launching pad. There were thirty-seven men altogether. All had their s.p.a.cesuits on and most of them carried lights.

"How are we going to get out of here?" asked one of the men as they approached the airlock. "The airlock won't open. Nothing's working."

"Portable power pack," said Kimball. He took a small box from another man, set it down by the airlock, and in seconds had established a makeshift connection. The airlock opened. In that fashion, the men boarded their ships without delay.

Kimball lifted off first and entered the vast, stone tunnel that led to the outside. As soon as the enormous airlock became visible down the shaft, he fired a laser cannon at it. Unable to resist an attack from within, the great door, thousands of years old, shattered into fragments. The atmosphere of the launching pad rushed out, hurling the shards of the airlock door into s.p.a.ce. Kimball's ship then came through the tunnel and exited, followed in short order by the five other ships.

They set a course for the Asteroid Belt and at top acceleration left the pirates' asteroid behind them.

After Gene had fled out of earshot, Zimbardo turned to the few men who were behind him. "I'm lifting off in the Tartarus in ten minutes. It's the only ship left on the asteroid. Meet me at the great doors. Tell everyone else you see." He swiveled and walked to the stairwell to go up to his own rooms.

None of the men said anything to each other, but scattered, each going to his own quarters.

Ten minutes later, arrayed in his s.p.a.cesuit and carrying a few items, Lurton Zimbardo stood at the great doors. Behind him was the asteroid complex. In front was the manufacturing center and beyond that was the launching pad where the Tartarus stood in solitary splendor. Only five men had joined the pirate leader.

"So," said Zimbardo. "Only five of you. Five men left. Who are you?" He lifted his light a little so he could see their faces. "Ah, Mr.

Gebbeth. I said before that I knew I could depend on you. I've always known it. You are the pilot. And Mr. Slant. Mr. Stagnum. Mr. Withers.

And Mr. Poppy. No one else. Well, then, there are six of us altogether.

Let us go."

There was almost no talking. Each man seemed to know what to do without being told. They opened the airlocks to pa.s.s through the manufacturing center, and then into the airless launching pad. Without haste but without unnecessary delay, they entered the Tartarus, a gleaming silver and red ship that could support a crew of eighteen.

The six men strapped themselves into acceleration couches with Gebbeth in the pilot's position. "Take us out, Mr. Gebbeth," said Zimbardo. "I will tell you where to go when we are free."

"Yes sir," said Gebbeth, and initiated the launching sequence. In a short time, Lurton Zimbardo's s.p.a.cecraft had left the asteroid.

"Top speed, Mr. Gebbeth," said Zimbardo. "Make sure the sheathing equipment is functioning. Head away from the sun."

"Of course, sir."

When Zimbardo burned out the asteroid's power, much of the energy needed to power its sheathing apparatus disappeared. The sheathing plates then only received power through the solar energy panels, and they did not provide enough energy to hide the asteroid completely. It appeared on radar as a faint blip, allowing the Earth ships to locate it without difficulty. About two hours after Zimbardo's departure, the fleet command ship Tempest came upon the asteroid. It was the first of fourteen ships from both s.p.a.ce Command and Starlight Enterprise that were expected to arrive within the hour.

The Tempest maneuvered carefully through the gaping orifice left when Kimball's ship had blown the ma.s.sive airlock, and set down inside the airless docking arena of the asteroid. Captain Mary Marks-Owens descended the ladder first, followed by several members of the crew.