Since the power was out, there was no way to make an announcement through the communication system, but the rest of the crew was a.s.sembling anyway. The refectory was located not far from the control center and the men were coming together there, so the Starmen and George went to join them.

In a moment, there were about a dozen men in the room. Some sat on the benches, others stood. There was palpable fear in the room, as if they knew that sudden, violent death was near.

Zip asked George, "Is this everyone?" George took a quick glance around the room.

"I, I think so, yes."

Zip took charge. "Men, listen to me. We're about to be taken captive. I don't think anything worse will happen to us, or it would have happened by now. My friends and I have come to visit Sabbath George. Just got here from Ceres and sure didn't expect this!"

George took over. He was showing more confidence now. Alone of the Z25 crew, he had never shown fear, just shock. "We'll just wait right here, men, and see what's next. I don't know who these attackers are or what they want, but don't volunteer any information of any kind. You hear me? No information of any kind, beyond the most basic."

The men were silent and collapsed in on themselves. They were afraid, but the panic seemed to have diminished somewhat. Outside, the five ships had landed and about twenty s.p.a.ce-suited men had emerged. With weapons in hand, they were approaching the dome. The leader gestured to several of them, who spread out around the dome. The others remained at the main airlock and waited. Their feet were spread in an att.i.tude of defiant power.

"They want the airlock open, Mr. St. George," said the young man who had fled from the control center. His voice was dry and squeaky.

George said, "Can't open it. No controls. Those fools destroyed the power center. If they're coming in, you'll have to get your s.p.a.cesuits on because the atmosphere is going to disappear. Make it quick before they blow the airlock by force." The men scattered. George and the Starmen went to the airlock and looked at the invaders from the inside of the dome. George said to the Starmen, "Of course, there's a backup power system, but I don't feel a compelling need to make it any easier for these strangers."

When the leader saw that there were people coming, he kicked the airlock savagely and aimed his weapon at the mechanism. As was customary, the helmets were lined up on a rack on shelves just inside the airlock. George put on his helmet and the Starmen put on theirs.

The rest of the mining crew began to show up with their suits on and found their helmets. When all were suited up and the intercoms were on, George told the mining crew to stand aside. Then he told the leader of the invaders that he could enter.

The man fired a stupendously powerful beam at the airlock that melted it like ice in a furnace. In seconds, the air inside the dome whooshed out into the vacuum of s.p.a.ce.

"Get into the ship," growled the leader of the invaders, indicating the closest of the five s.p.a.ceships. "No one is going to be hurt, but I'm not guaranteeing that that situation will last. I'm not a patient man and I don't like wasting time."

"What about our belongings?" asked George.

"You won't need them. Move to the ship. Now." The voice was even and quiet but as hard as iron. Zip started the procession. He slumped down as if completely disheartened and walked like a prisoner, his eyes pointed to the ground. The others followed. The invaders kept them surrounded as they walked the short distance to the pilot ship. Several invaders entered first and then kept watch on the prisoners as they ascended the ladder into the staging area. Once the asteroid miners were aboard, the other invaders entered their ships.

When the door was sealed, the invaders removed their helmets. The miners followed suit. The leader took a quick inventory of the prisoners, and then settled his gaze on George.

"You are George St. George," he said in a tone that knew he was stating a fact. "My name is Lather. You and your men are now prisoners of Lurton Zimbardo. I am taking you to him. As long as I've got you, I don't care about anything or anyone else. Don't make any trouble and I won't see any need to put anyone off the ship. It doesn't make any difference to me whether any of your men is in deep s.p.a.ce or my guest room, but it might make a difference to you-and them."

Without turning his head, Lather addressed one of his crew. "Blaze, see that this base is melted into the bedrock."

"Yes sir," said the man addressed and left the room.

Lather addressed another of his crew. "Spelford, escort the prisoners to their quarters."

Spelford lifted his weapon and nodded in the direction they were to go.

The prisoners went, under the guard of several armed men.

They were taken to a room set up to accommodate up to twenty pa.s.sengers. There were niches with beds in them, and couches for use during acceleration.

"Prepare for lift-off," ordered Spelford. The prisoners sat down and strapped themselves in. Spelford and his men left, locking the door behind them. In a moment the warning signal for lift-off was given. The ship raised itself gently from the surface of the asteroid. The fierce glare of destructive laser strikes came through the quartz window for nearly a minute, and the prisoners knew that the living quarters of Z25 were being systematically destroyed.

"They're ramsquaddling the whole operation," said Sabbath George in a voice that sounded almost matter-of-fact. "Never had anything like this happen before. This is a first."

When the glow ceased, the ships accelerated. The Starmen and their companions felt themselves pressed into the chairs.

The five invisible ships had been gone for over an hour, but the man in the shadow still did not move. He was on a neighboring chunk of floating iron, just a mile or two in diameter with a very slow rotation. St. George's asteroid would vanish below his horizon in a few minutes. The man pulled the telescope up to his face plate once again and scanned the area that had been the base on Z25. There had been no movement of any kind since the ships had rayed the site. He took a few more pictures for his files. The metal and quartz plating-all signs of human presence-had been completely destroyed, melted into the rock of the asteroid. The brilliant orange of superheated rock had quickly cooled in the near-absolute zero of airless s.p.a.ce.

"Guess it's okay to go now," he thought. "Those s.p.a.ce buzzards are not detail men-just grab and destroy without even looking around. Lucky for me."

The man went over to a small asteroid cruiser, built for speed in touring the Asteroid Belt. Stepping in, he sealed the airlock and pulled out a small recorder. He tuned in a complicated code and began to speak.

"Steve Cliff, reporting in to Oritz Konig on Mars Base." Steve went on to give the date, time, and location, and a brief but thorough report of what he had seen, from the time the Starmen landed on Z25 to the time the pirates' five ships had disappeared. He added to the file the pictures he had taken, and concluded, "Now returning to Yellow City. If you have anything else you'd like me to do, Oritz, contact me there. I don't have to tell you I'm pretty fond o' those boys and I was more'n delighted to keep an eye on 'em for you on this trip. Sorry this report isn't any better. I'll stop in and see Sim before I continue my trip back to Earth, just in case you leave a message for me there."

Having finished the recording, he put it into a small projectile with an automatic timer to release and send the message in three hours. Then he lifted off the small asteroid and headed toward Ceres. A few minutes after liftoff, he fired the projectile. When it sent its message, Steve Cliff would be far away and no one could trace the message back to his ship. On top of that, the message was encrypted and designed to travel on the microwaves similar to those in the background of s.p.a.ce. It was highly unlikely that this message would make anyone curious. After the message had been sent, the projectile would break down into its component parts and scatter them into the infinity of s.p.a.ce.

The ships had stopped accelerating and the prisoners could talk easily.

"You don't seem too upset, George," suggested Mark.

"Naw," said George. "'Course I'm sorry to lose my stuff back there, and I'm sorry for the men, but most of our stuff is somewhere else. This was a temporary base and the mine wasn't producing too well anyway.

Hardly worth our time. Besides, I've learned to be content just about wherever I am. I've been around the asteroids a lot and I've learned to depend on a Resource outside myself whatever the circ.u.mstances. I know what it is to be brought low, and I know what it is to have plenty.

I've been thoroughly initiated into the human lot with all its ups and downs-fullness and hunger, plenty and want. Makes little difference to me. Wherever I am, whatever happens, I'm confident. And I'm a man of prayer."

"I'm sure sorry about your friend Montezuma," said Zip sympathetically.

"What do you mean?"

"Why, these ships must be the same five that attacked him. They couldn't have found you without getting the information from Vly. So it's a good guess that they destroyed his base the way they did yours."

"Nothing of the sort!" said St. George heatedly. "I told you that those ships were defeated and their crew sent back to wherever they came from with their tail between their legs!"

"But this story about the 'greegles'-" contributed Joe.

"The greegles sliced those ships up like salami!" insisted St. George.

"These ships we're on are a different lot! And besides, Monty would never have told anybody how to find me-not by force or threat, anyway!"

"We're sorry, George," apologized Zip. "I didn't mean to upset you or cast any doubt on Montezuma Vly. You're right-he's not the type to give in to any threat. I must be mistaken."

"You're forgiven," said St. George. He went off to see how his men were doing.

"Zip!" whispered Joe urgently. "You don't really believe that story about the 'greegles.' These have to be the same ships!"

"I think it's more important not to upset George. We don't know the whole story."

"But greegles!"

"What about the greegles?" asked Mark, with a slight edge of defensiveness in his tone. "Did it seem to either of you that Vly would betray a friend to save himself? And did you see any sign of advanced weaponry at Montezuma's Castle?"

"What are you saying, Mark?" asked Joe.