"Very melodramatic," he applauded. "You inherit that, I think, from the other side of the family. John has the same flair for theatrics. I regret now that the business of obtaining a space-ship, of finding certain ... necessary persons ... took so long. Had I come sooner, I might have aided in your education." He turned to the big Jovian. "How goes it?"
"Safe good steel," Taon grunted. "One ... two ... hour job."
"No hurry." My father puffed lazily at his eyla, flicked a bit of ash from his coat sleeve. His gestures, his well chosen words, his carefully modulated voice, all indicated that he was playing the role of debonair, cosmopolitan man of the worlds. The perfect gentleman—even when engaged in cracking a safe! I hated him for it! This space-rover, thief, murderer ... my father! Better to see him imprisoned at Verlis, than to have him at large, adding to the shame of our name. With one leap, I crossed the room, snapped on the micro-wave communications set.
"Cerean Mining, calling Verlis!" I snapped. "Come...."
My father hardly seemed to move, but a pencil of blue flame from his gun leaped across the room, blasting the radio to bits.
"All right, Taon." He motioned back the Jovian, who, like a great faithful mastiff had sprung to his side. "No need to worry." Wiping off the gun, he turned to me. "As for you, Steve, you show more spirit than I had suspected. Although misdirected, since there was never a chance of contacting Verlis. However, I am going to pay you the compliment of putting you under lock and key while we complete our business here. In the next room, Taon, you will find, to the right of the heating unit, a closet, used, as I remember, for over-suits. Lock the boy in it."
The big man nodded, his slitted, ice-green eyes expressionless. In his grip I was helpless; no earthman can match a Jovian in strength. I shot one furious glance at my father; who was perched upon the edge of the table, swinging one foot, humming placidly. For just an instant as he felt my gaze upon him, he paused in his humming, a peculiar expression upon his face. Then Taon carried me into the next room, pushed me into the closet, slid the loose, rattling bolt. I was a prisoner—a prisoner of my own father!
For my first few minutes in the closet, my mind was a skein of tangled thoughts. The past that I had believed securely buried, returned to haunt me! Another day and the palladium would have been aboard a space liner at Verlis, Uncle John and I would have left Ceres for earth. All my day-dreaming of a new life on Terra was ruined. If my father should get away with the fortune in palladium, it would be broadcast over the entire solar system. Uncle John had never reported the murder of Carl Conroy, in hopes of saving my name. But this would be bound to come out, and my chances of finding a job, a decent place in society, would be wrecked when the solar system learned that I was the son of the notorious Vance McClean. And Uncle John, who had been like a father to me since that night of Conroy's murder, would be rendered penniless after fifteen years' work! Unless I could escape, summon help....
The closet was roomy and had a light. Not one of the new astra-lux arcs, but an old-fashioned electric bulb hanging from the ceiling. We don't have all the modern gadgets on Ceres.