Murder is always a cold-blooded
crime any way you look at it. But for
outright cruelty an barbarism there
was no equal to the actions of—
The Three Thieves Of Japetus
By Mark Reinsberg
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
June 1957
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
They sat huddled together in the tiny space-survival unit, watching the big rocket freighter draw closer to their drifting position off Saturn.
Jake moistened his thin purple lips and clenched the radiophone tighter. "Hello, freighter!" he repeated. "We're survivors of a shipwreck. Can you pick us up? Please answer." His voice grew more urgent. "Please pick us up! Our air supply is failing!"
Matt shook his thick black head of hair. "If they fall for this, they're stupider than I gave them credit for." His hand rubbed the gun hidden beneath his shirt.
A fierce cone of light flared in the freighter's forward rockets, brighter for an instant than the sun's remote disc.
"They are falling for it, Matt," Henry exclaimed. A wide grin spread over his pudgy baby-face. "They're slowing down."