The men found a colony of Silicytes and were herding them into the ship when a Patrol ship was sighted sweeping upon them. Tarnuff, in return for Jordan's rebellion, knocked him out and left him on the asteroid. The Patrol ship pursued the Lucifer but lost it; then returned and found Carl Jordan there with the Silicytes. He had protested his innocence in vain, but in view of the circumstances he was only given a life sentence instead of the usual swift death penalty.
Now Ron Jordan peered around the hollow of the Ceres spaceport. More than a score of ships rested there. It was very dark but he recognized most of them. Then, on the far side, he saw it.
As he approached, and made out the design of the ship, his heart leaped. It might ... it just possibly might be the one! It was a Martian freighter all right, although rather sleek and slim with a suggestion of speed. He came nearer. There were the side tubes, four of them horizontally one above the other, unusually far forward, just as Carl had described! Ron moved to the rear of the ship. Yes! There were the triple rear tubes, flexible, resting along the wide fin which could raise or lower them; they were huge, six feet in diameter, with smaller auxiliary tubes arranged circularly around them. Ron's heart was pounding now. If this wasn't the Lucifer, it must be a twin! It was a solid black ship perfectly in keeping with the name.
He walked toward the prow, looking up at the circular ports as he passed; all were dark, apparently no one being aboard at present. He reached the prow, looked up for the name and saw it, dimly: Martian Belle. Ron's heart fell in his abrupt disappointment. Wrong, after all. It meant more weeks, perhaps months, of waiting, while his brother languished in the black Venus prison-swamp without news.
Ron started to walk away, when an idea occurred to him. He drew out a tiny torch, the only object he carried on him. It might be dangerous flashing a light around a strange ship, but he had to chance it. This ship was so very similar, that he had to be sure.
He clicked the penetro-button and flashed the powerful beam upward, playing it across the words Martian Belle. Then his heart leaped. A great square patch had been newly painted there! And beneath that patch his beam picked out the old letters: L-U-C-I-F-E-R.
Without wasting another second Jordan hurried to the dark cliff a short distance away. He found a narrow defile that led up into the rock; followed it, and reached a little cave. There, fumbling, he at last found the electro-pistol he had hidden beneath a pile of rocks. He hurried back to the spacer and pondered what to do; he had planned no further than this. Obviously, the only thing to do was await the return of the owner: the Martian, Tarnuff, he sincerely hoped. Ron settled down comfortably beneath the rear lateral fin to wait.
It must have been hours later. Ron was aware he had dozed several times. But now he heard footsteps approaching, and he jerked himself alert. Silently he crept beneath the under curve of the hull toward the main side portal. There he stood very still in the deeper darkness and watched a lone figure approaching. It was a Martian all right, he could tell that by the huge, vague bulk of him. Ron waited until he came within a few yards—then he stepped out and said:
"Hello, Tarnuff."