ABOUT THIS AUTHOR AND BOOK

Jules Verne Award winner Edmond Hamilton (1904–1977) was one of the three formative pioneers of what some dismissively refer to as “space opera” and others as “the novel of intra- and interstellar adventure.” His earliest works, like the Federation of Suns or Interstellar Patrol series (1928-30), or Comet Doom (1927), The Three Planeteers (1940), and The Star Kings (1949), available from Renaissance E Books), are colorful, pell-mell adventure stories as befits Hamilton's youth. Later, in the 1960s, he would return to his roots for a series of novels and stories that combined the vivid interstellar settings early work with the more thoughtful perceptions and the moody, poetic style he had developed as he matured. These include The City at World's End (1957, available from Renaissance E Book), The Star of Life (1959), and The Haunted Stars (1961). What Hamilton did best, according to Donald Tuck's Encyclopedia of Science Fiction and Fantasy, “involved the creation and popularization of the classic early space operas [presenting] galaxy-spanning conflicts between humans and other races, piratical or merely monstrous, [which in turn] did much to define the field's sense of wonder…” That Hamilton did all this without ever losing the human scale, indeed, the human touch, is a tribute to his genius and evident in such a thundering adventure as The Three Planeteers (which, as the title implies, is his homage to one of his favorite childhood novels, as The Star Kings pays homage to The Prisoner of Zenda, only in Hamilton's version of The Three Musketeers, his D'Artagnan, fittingly for a man married to a tomboy who grew up to be a celebrated writer of tough-guy fiction, is a woman!).

AUTHOR'S PREFACE

TOMORROW'S WORLD'S WORLDS

Instead of talking about myself, I'd like to talk a little about The Three Planeteers. A very common supposition in science fiction seems to be that when interplanetary travel is finally achieved, and there are populations of colonizing Earthmen on the other worlds, they will all be ruled by the same government and law, and that war and strife will be forgotten. Now, I never could see that as inevitable. In fact, it always seemed more reasonable to me to suppose that every world would have its own government. And here's why:

Just think of what an effect distance has right here on Earth. Englishmen migrate to America, and a century or so later they find they just can't get along with the parent country any more, and declare their independence. The same thing happens to the Spaniards who colonized South and Central America. It's happening right now to South Africa and Australia.

Now, if that is true right now on Earth, surely it will be even more true in the future in the Solar System! Think of yourself, a few hundred years from now, on Mars. Your father was born on Mars, and your grandfather. You know that several generations back one of your ancestors came here from Earth, but you don't feel any loyalty to Earth. Mars is your world. And yet here you are, with a government on Earth making the laws by which you live. Those Earth people don't know Martian conditions, and don't know what is or is not practical out here on your world. What would you do, in a situation like that? If precedent or history mean anything, ten to one you'd shine up your trusty atom-gun and go out with a lot of your fellow Martians to win your independence from Earth. And the chances are that you'd win it.

And in the centuries that followed, your descendants would be more and more true Martians, wouldn't they? They'd be modified by generations of life in a new environment. Free people of the different worlds, all of the same Earth stock, would grow more and more unlike each other. If they couldn't settle their differences they'd go to war. That's the speculative background of The Three Planeteers. But it isn't any history of the future. It's a story. I hope it's a good story.

Edmond Hamilton

1940

CHAPTER I

Comrades of Peril

They sauntered through the crowded, krypton lit street bordering the great New York spaceport, casually, as though there was not a reward on their heads. An Earthman, a Venusian, and a huge Mercurian, looking merely like three ordinary space-sailors in their soiled, drab jackets and trousers.

But inwardly John Thorn, the lean, dark-headed Earthman of the trio, was queerly tense. He felt the warning of that sixth sense which tells of being watched. His brown, hard-chinned face showed nothing of what he felt, and he was smiling as though telling some joke as he spoke to his two companions.

"We're being followed,” he said. “I've felt it, since we left the spaceport. I don't know who it is."

Sual Av, the bald, bow-legged Venusian, laughed merrily as though at a jest. His bright green eyes glistened, and there was a wide grin on his ugly, froglike face.

"The police?” he chuckled.

Gunner Welk, the huge Mercurian, growled in his throat. His shock of yellow hair seemed to bristle on his head, his massive face and cold blue eyes hardening belligerently.

"How in hell's name would the Earth police spot us so quickly after our arrival?” he muttered.

"I don't think it's the police,” John Thorn said, his black eyes still smiling casually. “Stop at the next corner, and we'll see who passes us."

At the corner gleamed a luminous red sign, “THE CLUB OF WEARY SPACEMEN.” In and out of the vibration-joint, thus benevolently named, were streaming dozens of the motley throng that jammed the blue-lit street. Reedy-looking red Martians, squat and surly Jovians, hard-bitten Earthmen-sailors from all the eight inhabited worlds, spewed up by the great spaceport nearby. There were many naval officers and men, too — a few in the crimson of Mars, the green of Venus and blue of Mercury, but most of them in the gray uniform of the Earth Navy.

John Thorn and his two comrades paused on the corner as though debating whether or not to enter the vibration-joint. Inwardly, Thorn was tautly alert to everyone who passed in the shuffling throngs. Every moment, his sense of peril grew greater. He was now certain that they were being watched from close at hand.

Sual Av suddenly grinned. “Look at that, John. It's a new one."

The Venusian nodded his bald head toward the corner of the chromaloy building, which was plastered with advertisements and official notices. Among them was a bright new poster.

WANTED — THE THREE PLANETEERS Reward of one million dollars offered by the Earth Police for any information leading to the arrest of the outlaws known as the Three Planeteers.

Sual Av's green eyes gleamed with droll humor in his froglike face.

"They've raised the price on us, John. We ought to feel flattered."

Gunner Welk was reading the rest of the notice in a low, rumbling voice.

"The identities and descriptions of the Three Planeteers follow: John Thorn, Earthman, twenty-eight years old, deserter from the Earth Navy—"

"That's enough,” Sual Av chuckled. “The rest is just a long list of our heinous exploits."

John Thorn took a long, green cigarette of Martian rail leaf from his pocket and scratched its tip against the wall, thus igniting it. As he puffed on it, Thorn spoke under his breath.

"Get ready, boys — here comes our shadow, if my guess is right."

Neither the grinning, bald Venusian nor the big Mercurian changed expression. But their hands casually dropped to the side of their jackets, where atom-pistols bulged their pockets.

A man in the gray uniform of a noncom of the Earth Navy was shouldering toward them out of the passing throng. He was a middle-aged man with a flat, grizzled face.

"Can you spare a smoke, sailor?” he asked Thorn.

"Of course,” John Thorn answered calmly, and fished one of the green cigarettes from his pocket. He kept his face bent as he handed it over.

"Thanks,” muttered the man, and was gone in the throng.

"A false alarm, after all,” grunted Gunner Welk.

"No,” clipped Thorn. “I know that man. He was one of my non-coms before I deserted the Navy. He knows I'm John Thorn, which means that he knows we're the Planeteers. He's gone for the police."

Thorn's gaze swiveled rapidly. Then he pushed his companions toward the swinging door of the vibration-joint.

"In here!” he exclaimed. “We can go out another door."

Thrumming music hit John Thorn and his comrades in the faces as they entered the place. It was a room clogged with greenish smoke. Men at tables in the center were arguing in bull voices as they drank black Venusian wine or brown Earth whisky. In the booths around the walls, many more men sprawled, somnolent, sleepy faces relaxed under the pale violet rays of the brain-soothing happiness vibrations."

Thorn's lean figure shouldered through the noisy, crowded tables, the bald-pated Venusian and the towering Mercurian following closely. They were half-way across the crowded place toward the back door, when there was a rush of feet through the front entrance.

Thorn twisted his head. Two men in the white uniform of the Earth Police had just burst in. With them was the grizzled non-com. The latter instantly pointed at Thorn and his two companions.

"There they are!” he yelled. “The Three Planeteers!"

For a moment, the noisy throng in the place was petrified. Even that motley, hard-bitten crowd was frozen by the sudden declaration that there in their midst stood the three half-legendary interplanetary outlaws.

Then the foremost of the two policemen, drawing his atom pistol, yelled to Thorn.

"Stand where you are!"

Thorn's pistol was already in his hand, as was the big Mercurian's.

"The lights, Gunner!” Thorn cried.

At the same moment, Thorn shot up toward the ceiling with the quickness of a wolf's snap.

The pellets from his and the Mercurian's pistols hit the big cluster of krypton lights in the ceiling. The flare of white proton fire from the exploding pellets was followed by an abrupt extinguishing of the lights. The place was plunged into darkness, except for the faint blue glow of the “happiness vibration” booths.

Scores of voices yelled in the darkness, and shadowy figures surged forward in a melee of reeling, clutching shapes. Some shouted for lights, others to guard the door. Everyone in the room had suddenly remembered the big reward for the capture of the Planeteers.

"This way,” chuckled Sual Av's throaty voice in the darkness. The Venusian was stolidly clearing a path through the crowd.

Men sought to hold the three in the darkness, cried out that they were escaping. Gunner Welk's huge fists thudded down in resounding blows, while Thorn struck with the heavy barrel of his atom-pistol.

Suddenly Sual Av was pulling them out of a shadowy riot, through a door. They stumbled out into an unlighted alley. As they did so, they heard the whiz and roar of rocketcars racing up to the front entrance of the Club of Weary Spacemen.

"Police,” grunted Gunner Welk. “They'll be around here in a minute."

"Come on!” cried Thorn, starting down the dark alley in a run. “We're all right now if we keep clear of spy-plates."

"Yes,” came the Venusian's chuckle as he ran beside them. “The last place they'll look for the Planeteers is the mansion of the Chairman!"

* * *

A half-hour later, the three comrades were two miles across the city from the spaceport, having threaded devious ways to avoid the omnipresent spy-plates of the police.

"Spy-plates” were televisor eyes mounted throughout the city, some openly but many more cunningly concealed, by which police headquarters could keep watch on all parts of the metropolis.

The Planeteers entered the deep shadow of tall trees that bordered extensive grounds. Through the trees glimmered the lighted windows of a magnificent metal mansion. The three comrades moved soundlessly as phantoms toward it.

The mansion was the official residence of the Chairman of the Earth Government. It was on a scale commensurate with the dignity of the elected executive of the planet. The huge tower that housed the Earth Government itself soared into the starlight from a great park nearby.

The Planeteers met no guards as they slipped cautiously toward the rear of the impressive mansion. There was a broad terrace here, splashed with blue-white light from a single window. John Thorn and his comrades stole up onto the terrace toward that window.

Thorn peered tautly into the lighted room. It was a small, paneled study. The only furniture was a big desk which lay in the blue-white pool of a krypton lamp. A gray-haired man sat at this desk, writing.

"It's the Chairman,” Thorn whispered. “And he's alone."

"Good,” muttered Gunner Welk. “That makes it easier!"

Thorn gently reached and pushed on the window. It was unlocked, and swung inward on soundless hinges. He stepped silently in upon the soft rug, and Sual Av and Gunner Welk followed as noiselessly.

The man at the desk suddenly looked up. His haggard, aging face stiffened as he beheld, ten feet from him, the three silent men — the lean, browned young Earthman, the bald, bow-legged Venusian, and the towering, hard-faced Mercurian.

"The Planeteers!” exclaimed the Chairman, rising to his feet. “Thank God, you're here!"

CHAPTER II

Cold-World Menace

The career of the Three Planeteers had begun four years previously, in 2952.

That year had seen the splitting of the eight independent inhabited worlds of the Solar System into two hostile alliances. The great and powerful League of Cold Worlds had been formed by Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune, under a ruthless, ambitious dictator. Feeling themselves menaced, Mercury, Venus, Earth and Mars had formed the Inner Alliance. The Alliance had sent out many spies to gain information of the League's threatening plans, but nearly all of them had rapidly been detected and executed.

Then John Thorn, captain in the Earth Navy, had conceived his patriotic plan. He and two friends, Sual Av, Venusian engineer, and Gunner Welk, Mercurian adventurer, would go forth into the underworld of the system as outlaws. And as fugitives from the law, they would never be suspected of being agents of the Alliance.

The three friends had deliberately established criminal records. Thorn had deserted from the Earth Navy. Sual Av had fled after supposedly embezzling a great sum — a sum which was being secretly held in trust for its rightful owners. Gunner Welk had broken jail after a brawl on Mercury.

The three fugitive friends had foregathered, and thus had been born the three Planeteers. They had performed one daring exploit after another. Each time, their exploits seemed mere criminal raids or robberies. Yet each time, their real purpose had been the securing of information as to the purposes and plans of the hostile, threatening League of Cold Worlds.

Now, the Three Planeteers were the most famous outlaws in the system. Three lone wolves of the void, extravagantly admired by all criminals and pirates, bitterly condemned by all law-abiding men. Only one man — the Chairman of the Earth Government — knew that the notorious Planeteers were really undercover spies.

Now that man, Richard Hoskins, faced the three comrades with gladness in his eyes. His powerful face, deeply lined by strain of responsibility, quivered with emotion.

"Thank God, you're here!” he repeated. “It's been days since I sent out that call to you on the secret audio-wave. I was beginning to fear something had happened to you."

"We were almost picked up by the Earth Police tonight, sir,” John Thorn said quietly. “I was recognized."

The Chairman hastily closed the metal shutter of the window. There was a look of deep anxiety in his haggard eyes.

"Thorn, I knew I was summoning you three into danger when I called you here. But I had to do it, for I've something to tell you which I dared not trust even to the secret wave. Something upon which the fate of the whole Inner Alliance may depend!

"But first, what can you report?” the Chairman asked tensely. “The League is still preparing to attack us?"

Thorn nodded tightly. “Yes, sir. Every dock and arsenal from Jupiter to Neptune is humming with activity. The League will have at least ten thousand cruisers ready in a few weeks, the story goes. They're working their mining bases out on Pluto at full capacity, digging fuel ores. And there's a rumor that they've planned some new and terrible agent of destruction with which they will blast our worlds into submission, after they've smashed our fleet!

"Furthermore,” Thorn added, “the League dictator, Haskell Trask, is constantly broadcasting inflammatory speeches to his four worlds. He's stirring up their war fever to frenzy, telling them that since the worlds of the Inner Alliance refuse to cede any territory, it must be taken from them by force."

Chairman Hoskins nodded somberly. “I've heard Trask's broadcast speeches. It's that cursed power-lusting dictator who's driving the system toward war. If we'd only recognized sooner what a menace he is, we wouldn't have let the League get so far ahead of us in armaments. As it is, when their attack comes, they'll outnumber our combined navies by two to one. They'll overwhelm our fleet, unless—"

"Unless what, sir?” Thorn asked tensely.

"Unless we can use a new weapon we have,” the Chairman finished. “A weapon such as the system never heard of before."

He paced the little study for a few moments, and then turned back to the rigidly watching Planeteers.

"You've heard of Philip Blaine, our famous Earth physicist?” he asked.

Sual Av's bald head bobbed. “I have, sir. He disappeared, a year ago. No one knows where he is now."

"Blaine,” said the Chairman, “is in Earth's moon. For a year, he's been working in secret laboratories in the lunar caverns. He's developed a radical, revolutionary new weapon. I dare not tell even you the nature of that weapon. But it will enable us to defeat an overpowering attack of the League fleet-if we can use it!"

"If we can use it, sir?” puzzled Gunner Welk.

"Yes. For Blaine's weapon is useless, as it stands now. To operate the thing requires concentrated power of incredible volume. Atomic energy from ordinary fuels is insufficient. The only fuel that will furnish enough atomic energy to operate this thing is radite, that rare isotope of radium. To make use of Blaine's great weapon, we must have a ton of pure radite."

"A ton of pure radite?” exclaimed Thorn incredulously. “Why, not one of the eight worlds has more than a few pounds of the stuff! It takes thousands of tons of ore to yield an ounce!"

"There is a ton of pure radite in the system,” the Chairman affirmed. “But it's not on any of the eight inhabited worlds."

"It can't be on Pluto, surely,” protested Sual Av. “The League mining bases there would have found it long ago.

"It's farther than Pluto,” the Chairman said.

John Thorn stared. “You mean, it's on Erebus?"

The Chairman nodded slowly. “Yes, it's on Erebus, the tenth and outermost planet, that mysterious, unexplored world that swings out there in space a billion miles beyond even Pluto's orbit."

"How can anyone know the radite's there?” Gunner Welk demanded unbelievingly. “Why, no one knows what's on Erebus! Not one of the expeditions that sailed for that planet ever came back. For centuries, no one has even tried to explore that mystery world!"

"Years ago,” the Chairman said “astronomers detected the presence of a mass of pure radite on Erebus, through their spectroscopes. Supervaluable as radite is, no one has tried to go after it, for all know it's suicide to try to visit Erebus."

The Chairman's lined face quivered.

"But now we've got to have that radite! It alone will operate Blaine's new secret weapon. It alone will enable us to resist the League's attack, and preserve the liberty of these four inner worlds."

He looked at the three comrades solemnly. “We have sent five big secret expeditions to Erebus during the last year, in desperate hope of getting, the radite. Not one ship, not one man, not one message has ever come back from them. The sinister mystery there swallowed them up, as it has swallowed all who tried to visit Erebus.

"Now I am calling on you Planeteers. If anybody in the system can reach Erebus and bring back the radite, you can. The chances are a thousand to one you'll perish there as mysterious air hives — all other would-be explorers of that world. But that thousandth chance that you might succeed and bring back the radite, is the last chance of the Alliance worlds to preserve their liberty—"

"We'll go, sir, of course!” Gunner Welk exclaimed instantly. “Hell, whatever's on Erebus, it can't stop us!"

Sual-Av scratched his baldhead. “I wonder what is really there? Anyway, if human men can bring that radite back—"

"Wait a minute!” Thorn exclaimed, his lean brown face suddenly eager. He turned to the Chairman. “You said nobody had ever landed on Erebus and returned, sir. But one man did land there and come back. Martin Cain, the great space pirate of, a generation ago."

The Chairman nodded. “Yes, I remember the story now. Cain is supposed to have made for Erebus alone in a lifeboat when his ship was gunned to a wreck outside Pluto's orbit. They say he spent two weeks there and returned safely, the only man ever to do so."

"Martin Cain,” Thorn pointed out tensely, “must have discovered the secret of how to land safely on Erebus. If we knew that secret, we could land there safely and lift the radite!"

"But Cain has been dead for years,” the Chairman reminded. “And he never told anyone what was on Erebus, they say."

"He told one person the secret of Erebus, if what I've heard in the underworld is true,” John Thorn persisted. “His daughter, Lana Cain."

The Chairman stared. “Lana Cain, the girl who's leader of the space pirates out in the Zone? The girl they call the pirate princess?"

"That's right.” Thorn said tautly. “They say that Martin Cain, her father, before he died told her the secret of how to visit Erebus safely, so she could take refuge there if ever she had to. She's never told anyone the secret. But she knows it!"

Sual Av's green eyes glistened. “If we could get that secret from Lana Cain—"

"That's my idea!” Thorn exclaimed. “If we three go straight to Erebus to get the radite, the chances are a thousand to one as you say that we'll simply meet the same mysterious fate as all other explorers, and never come back. Our lives don't matter, of course, but the Alliance wouldn't get that precious radite.

"Our only real chance, as I see it, is to make first for the Zone, and get this girl Lana Cain's knowledge of Erebus, by trickery or force. With that knowledge, we can go on to Erebus and have a fighting chance of winning through and bringing back the radite."

A flame of eager hope leaped into the haggard eyes of the Earth Government executive.

"It's the best plan yet, Thorn! But dare you enter the Zone and seek out this pirate girl? Those corsairs are ferociously hostile and suspicious of all strangers."

"You forget, sir,” flashed John Thorn, “that we are the Three Planeteers!"

"Yes,” rumbled Gunner Welk, cold blue eyes gleaming. “We have a reputation of our own among the outlaws of the system, sir."

Sual Av grinned.

"I always did have a hidden longing to be a pirate."

"Thorn, you give me new hope!” declared the Chairman. “If you can do this, in the little time left us—"

"Listen!” commanded Gunner Welk suddenly.

Through the locked door and metal-shuttered window of the study penetrated a rising tumult, the roar of rocket-cars racing up to the mansion. Then came a rush of running feet through it, and a loud knock on the door.

"Mr. Hoskins!” called a secretary anxiously to the Chairman through the door. “The police are here! They say the Three Planeteers are in the city tonight, and were glimpsed by spy-plates heading toward this mansion. They want to make sure you're safe."

"The cursed Earth Police!” flared Gunner Welk in a hoarse whisper. “We overlooked some of their spy-plates."

Thom's eyes were black pinpoints, his brown face taut. He knew the Mercurian was right, that they had been glimpsed by some of the hidden visiplates planted cunningly throughout the metropolis for the benefit of the police.

"I'm all right, Ames!” called the Chairman to his secretary. “Tell the police not to bother me."

But in the next moment came a loud cry from a police officer outside the shuttered windows.

" The Planeteers are in there with the Chairman!" the man shouted. “Their tracks lead to the window-they must be making him say he's all right!"

"Break down the door!” roared another officer's voice. “Quick, before they kill the Chairman!"

A resounding battering began against the locked door and another banging at the metal shutter that closed the window.

The Chairman looked helplessly at Thorn. “I'll have to tell them the truth, that you Planeteers are really my agents, or they'll haul you off to prison,"

"No!” said John Thorn fiercely. “Once the secret that we're Alliance agents gets out, it would spread swiftly over the whole system. Our chance of getting the secret of Erebus from that pirate girl would be wrecked — our whole plan ruined."

"But you can't escape from here the Chairman exclaimed. “They're at both window and door!"

"We can escape,” Thorn said swiftly. “But we've got to make it look as though we came here for a criminal purpose. Otherwise, people will ask why the Planeteers came to the Chairman's mansion, and it will be guessed that we're really your agents after all."

Thorn drew a roll of flexible metal cord from his pocket, and sprang toward the Chairman.

"Forgive me for this, sir,” he cried.

The bewildered Chairman did not resist as Thorn bound his arms and legs tightly. Then the young Earthman straightened.

"Tell them we tried to kidnap you, sir,” he said swiftly to the Chairman. “That we meant to hold you for ransom."

Gunner Welk stood ready now to open the window shutter. And Sual Av had taken a little metal sphere from his pocket.

"You're right-the light-bomb is our best chance,” Thorn clipped. “Throw it when Gunner opens the window."

Gunner Welk suddenly flung open the shutter. Before the police hammering outside it could enter, the bald Venusian flung out the tiny sphere. The Planeteers clapped their hands in front of their eyes. The sphere burst out on the terrace amid the pressing group of police. A terrific glare of blazing white light exploded from the bomb. A tiny charge of atoms inside it had been suddenly broken down, not into energy, but into pure radiation in the frequency of light. The awful glare of radiation instantly paralyzed the optic nerves of the unprepared police, temporarily blinding them.

The glare died swiftly. Thorn and his two comrades were already plunging out through the blinded men.

"This way!” Thorn cried.

"They're escaping!” yelled a blinded officer.

The Planeteers plunged around the corner of the huge mansion, toward the long, low rocket-cars parked in front.

Sual Av jumped into one, whose power-chamber was throbbing. As the others leaped in after him, the bald Venusian yanked back the throttle. The car rabbited out through the dark grounds with a rising roar from the rocket-tubes at its rear.

"Straight for the spaceport!” Thorn yelled.

"Hold tight!” called Sual Av, with a throaty laugh. “I always did want to let one of these things out!"

A whizz and roar, a spuming flash of fire — that was the stolen rocketcar as it shot through the streets. Its speed was suicidal, but streets were almost empty at this late hour.

Now the spaceport was close ahead. Thorn could see the soaring tower of the starter, flashing varicolored landing signals to a huge freighter that was sinking ponderously down out of the stars with all its blasts braking.

The audio speaker in the car broke into frantic voice. “All police! The Planeteers have stolen a police rocket-car and are making for the spaceport, after making an attempt to kidnap the Chairman! Shoot on sight!"

"Look ahead!” yelled Gunner Welk.

Men in white uniforms were running across the spaceport toward them, between the great docks and the big freighters and liners that rested like huge torpedoes on the tarmac.

"They're too late!” the Venusian chuckled. “Here's our ship."

Before them loomed the three-man scout cruiser that had brought them to Earth, a long, torpedo-slim craft of gleaming inertrum, on its nose the number N-77. The thick-clustered tubes at its stern told of immense powers of acceleration and speed.

John Thorn and his comrades tumbled into the little ship, as atom-pistols coughed, and shells exploded in white proton-fire around them. Sual Av spun the heavy, round door shut while Thorn and the Mercurian leaped into the control-room in the nose.

Thorn's hands flashed amid the bewildering array of controls, and the power-chambers in the stern began a soft, rising roar of atomic energy.

Thorn jammed down two firing keys. With thunderous blast, white fire burst from the keel tubes of the cruiser. It lurched upward, riding its columns of proton-flame, then shooting obliquely up across the spaceport as Thorn cut in all the stern tubes.

He was flung back, deep into the cushioned pilot chair, his entrails seeming crushed by the terrific acceleration. The shadowed convexity of Earth fell away appallingly beneath them, as the sharp clang of the friction-alarm told of walls being dangerously overheated by the too-rapid rush through the air. Then the roar of air outside the walls died rapidly away. They were out in space.

"We're clear!” shouted Sual Av, stumbling into the control-room, his grin twisted by pain of shock.

"Clear, yes — but every Earth cruiser in space will be after us now for trying to kidnap the Chairman!” Thorn rapped. “We've got to reach the Zone before they catch us!"

CHAPTER III

Into the Zone

"Oh, the gloom of outer space,

Where the tailless cornets race,

And the sun's a star that almost disappears

When our rockets’ steady roar.

Sings the good old song owe more,

We're outward bound again, oh, Planeteers!"

Sual Av's throaty bass reverberated through the little control-room of the cruiser, in which he sat with Gunner Welk. It rose above the soft hissing of the rocket-tubes.

"Curse me if I can see anything to make up songs about,” growled the big Mercurian.

"You have no poetry in your soul, Gunner,” retorted the little Venusian with a grin. “A poetic genius like myself doesn't make up his songs — they come to him out of the great ether."

"They sound uncommonly like the bellowing of a Jovian marsh-calf when they do force themselves out,” said Gunner Welk dourly. “Besides, you'll wake up John."

"I'm awake,” came a voice behind them, and they turned.

Thorn came into the control-room, rubbing his eyes. Then he peered tautly through the broad window that framed a magnificent vista of black space and stars.

"What about the cruisers on our tail?” he asked quickly.

The big Mercurian shrugged. “They're hanging on — we've heard their audio calls. And they've called up every Alliance cruiser in this part of the system. We've stirred up a hornets’ nest this time, John!"

John Thorn cut in the switch of the audio. From the speaker came a weird jumble of meaningless sound. All naval calls were always “scrambled” to prevent eavesdropping; only an official unscrambler could translate them.

There was such an unscrambler in this little ship. Thorn had built it, out of his own naval experience. He hastily snapped it on, and the incoherent jumble of sounds from the speaker at once became a crisp, understandable voice.

"— our auras, which shows that present course of the fugitives is straight toward the Zone. Undoubtedly they're hoping to hide out there. It is imperative that we cut them off before they enter the Zone. Flagship Gull, signing off."

"The Gull!" Thorn exclaimed, his brown face strange for a moment. “I know that ship. It was old Commander Leigh speaking. He commands the Alliance patrol squadrons out here."

His thoughts swept him back into memory for a moment. He had, only four years before, commanded a cruiser of the Earth Navy that helped patrol this very sector of space, out here beyond the orbit of Mars, against a surprise League attack.

"They've guessed that we're making for the Zone,” Thorn went on. “It's where all outlaws head for when things get too hot for them."

"The whole system is too hot for us right now,” observed Sual Av. “You should have heard the audio news bulletins going back and forth while you were sleeping. Three Planeteers try to kidnap Earth Chairman! Notorious outlaws foiled in daring attempt.’ The system's ringing with it!"

"It'll ring with the news if we're gunned out of space by those cruisers converging on us,” grunted Gunner Welk sourly. “Do you think we can slip through them, John?"

"I think so,” Thorn clipped. “We've got to keep straight on. Turkoon, the asteroid that's the pirates’ main base, lies in the part of the Zone almost directly ahead."

Thorn stared with narrowed eyes through the broad window, into the magnificent star-flecked vault.

The little ship of the Planeteers was roaring out through the void at top speed, millions of miles outside the orbit of Mars. The bright, small disk of the sun was dead astern, its rays hiding the gray blob of Earth, away from which they had been fleeing for so many long hours.

Ahead of them, the void was thick with bright stars. Brilliant among them gleamed the big yellow topaz of Saturn, and beyond, and to the left, the fainter green sparks of Uranus and Neptune. Pluto was somewhere farther away, off to the right. And Erebus, their mysterious, ultimate goal, lay invisible still farther off — the dark, enigmatic outpost of the solar system.

Directly ahead of the racing little ship, only a few million miles away, extended a wide band of countless tiny specks of light, stretching parallel with the equator of the system. That broad band of light-specks was the Zone, the great asteroidal belt whirling between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter.

Thorn gazed tautly into the Zone. That mighty wilderness of countless planetoids and meteor-swarms, which all ordinary shipping avoided by running above or below, was the No Man's Land of the Solar System. In it the space pirates had long had their lairs, from which they still sallied forth to levy ton on the interplanetary shipping. Countless naval expeditions had tried to clean the place out, and had been baffled by the shifting swarms of meteors and tiny planets which made it impossible to conduct organized operations in there without prohibitive losses.

John Thorn's brown hands clenched. In there, in the Zone, at the pirates’ asteroid base, was the girl who alone in the system, held the secret of mysterious Erebus, the secret that would make possible the securing of the precious radite from that far, dark planet. Somehow, that girl's secret must be secured.

"Calling flagship Gull!” suddenly boomed a deep voice from the audio speaker. “Cruiser Tharine, reporting. Our aura shows the Planeteers’ ship four hundred thousand miles from us, eighteen degrees counter-sunwise."

"Orders to Tharine," rapped back Commander Leigh's hard voice swiftly. “Close in before they slip past you into the Zone. Calling cruiser Rantal!"

" Rantal speaking!” came a quick voice.

"Change your course to eighty-six degrees sunwise,” hammered the Commander. “You and the Tharine can catch the Planeteers between you if you put on all speed."

Sual Av scratched his bald head and looked at Thorn. “They're converging on us from two sides, John."

"Damn them!” growled the huge Mercurian angrily. “If they only knew that we Planeteers are risking our necks for the sake of the Alliance—"

"But they don't know. To them, we're outlaws who must be either captured or gunned,” John Thorn clipped. “We've got to outrun those two cruisers! Turn the injectors on full, Gunner."

The Mercurian quickly obeyed. Thorn leaned toward the bank of firing-keys, his eyes on the power gauges.

All modern space ships were propelled by the atomic disintegration of copper or a similar metal. The powdered metal's atoms were broken down by terrific electric voltages, in power chambers of heavy inertrum. Only inertrum, that artificial metal whose atoms were synthetically “crystallized,” could stand the awful strain.

Much of the atomic energy generated in the chambers had to be fed back into them as electric voltage, to continue the process. But there was enough surplus to eject streams of protons at high speed from the inertrum rocket-tubes, propelling the ship.

John Thorn cut in all stern tubes. The little ship jerked forward with the deafening roar of the blast.

"Check the aura-chart,” he ordered Sual Av. “See if we're losing those cruisers."

The Venusian snapped on their ship's aura. The “aura” was a field of electromagnetic vibrations radiated for a million miles in all directions by a projector in the ship. The vibrations were reflected back by any object within that radius of space, and automatically plotted and recorded on the aura-chart.

The chart was a sphere of pale light, poised above the window. At the center of the luminous sphere was a black dot representing their ship. Off to right and left of the black dot moved two red sparks, cutting in obliquely toward them as all advanced.

"They're close — no more than a quarter of a million miles,” reported Sual Av.

"The Zone isn't much farther than that ahead,” Thorn declared.

"But there's a big meteor swarm in the Zone directly ahead of us!” Gunner Welk exclaimed. “We can't run into that!"

In the fore of the aura-chart sphere glimmered a cloud of very tiny crimson flecks, whirling, seething. It was the edge of a great cloud of meteors at the lip of the Zone, stretching across a million miles of space in front of their fleeing little ship.

Thorn could see the swarm in black space ahead. Not the myriad meteors themselves, but a constant winking and flashing of tiny flares, where meteors in the whirling storm of stone struck and fused every few minutes.

" Rantal reporting!” rapped the audio speaker. “Planeteers are now keeping their lead on us, and running straight on toward the Zone."

"Keep after them!” ordered the Commander's grim voice. “Swarm six-sixty-two is just ahead of them and they won't dare enter that. We'll have them boxed."

"You heard, boys,” said John Thorn tightly. “There's just one thing to do — run the swarm."

"Let her go!” grinned Sual Av. “It takes more than a few meteors to stop the Planeteers."

"One thing sure,” said Gunner grimly. “If we do run it safely, we'll lose those cruisers. They won't dare follow."

John Thorn knew the peril into which their little ship was roaring. The chance of their winning through that vast, whirling stone-storm was less than one in two.

But the naval cruisers would not follow them in there, he was sure. And if he could run the swarm, he would be well inside the Zone and could turn and run counter-sunwise toward the asteroid Turkoon without fear of further pursuit.

"Here goes!” Sual Av breathed, as the aura-chart showed their ship approaching the edge of the great swarm.

The chart showed the two converging cruisers making a frantic effort to head them off. But it was too late. Already, in the chart, the Planeteers’ ship was entering the swarm.

Thorn looked forth tensely through the window. The aura was useless, now that they were actually in the swarm. His only chance now was in the quickness of his eyes and hands.

Space outside the window still looked empty, for the density of even the densest meteor swarm is not high. But Thorn could glimpse all around them the quick red glows, quickly fading and re-appearing, of meteors colliding and fusing.

A jagged black oblong mass turning over slowly, expanded with lightning speed in front of him. His hand smashed a starboard-tube firing key, and the little ship lurched wildly aside from the oncoming monster.

A moment later, two smaller black masses passed some distance on the right, revolving around each other. Then there was a rattle, as of hail, as tiny particles struck the ship walls.

Scree-e-e! The tiny scream of air escaping through a pierced wall reached their ears with startling suddenness.

"Hull punctured!” rasped Thorn, without turning.

"I'll get it!” panted Sual Av, grabbing up the electro-fusing kit and darting toward the tiny hole in the wall.

"Better get our space-suits on,” Thorn continued rapidly without turning his head. “We may get holed again."

Gunner Welk hastily hauled in the suits from a cabinet amidships. The Mercurian took over for a moment while Thorn struggled into the suit and glassite helmet, and then Thorn went back to his tense watch while his two comrades donned their suits.

A soundless flash of red light burgeoned on the left in space, faded, and then blazed up again and veered toward the ship as a third meteor struck the two that had just collided.

Thorn frantically swung the ship upward. The fusing, swiftly-cooling mass passed close underneath.

Another mass of bullet-like particles struck the racing ship. Air screeched out through new holes, and the airgauge on the panel started flashing a warning red light as pressure diminished. Sual Av was working hastily with the fusing kit to close the new hull-punctures.

Thorn glimpsed a peculiar gleaming meteor directly ahead, coming dead on at the ship. He had plenty of time to curve the ship aside. But as he did so—

"Above you!” yelled Gunner Welk wildly.

Thorn looked up, just glimpsed the huge, ponderous mass thundering down on the ship from above-a tiny planetoid, black and jagged and massive, spinning on its axis as it bore noiselessly down on them.

Thorn's hand on the keys blasted the ship to starboard with the speed of light. But he knew, even as he acted, that he was too late. He could not quite get clear.

There came a grinding shock, a scream of riven metal. He and Gunner Welk were thrown crazily together at a side of the control-room. His head rang inside his helmet.

He scrambled up, clutching a stanchion. There was a dead, unusual silence. He looked back into the stern of the ship, past Sual Av, who was scrambling unsteadily to their side.

"'We're wrecked!” Thorn exclaimed, his heart plummeting.

The little planetoid had crumpled up the whole stern half of the ship like cardboard. The air inside it was gone. The crumpled little craft was drifting silently in space, revolving slowly around the jagged planetoid that had been its Nemesis.

"Hell!” swore Gunner Welk, his voice coming to the other two in their helmets through the short-range audio with which all space-suits were equipped. “We were almost through, too!"

"What do we do now?” Sual Ay asked, his green eyes perplexedly staring through the glassite of his helmet.

Thorn shrugged heavily. “I don't know. I was a fool to try to run the swarm. But it looked like our best chance."

"It was,” said the big Mercurian loyally. “Even though we didn't quite make it."

"We've got to get out of here somehow to Turkoon, that pirate asteroid,” Thorn said. “We can't just cling to this wreck until the oxygen in our suit tanks gives out."

He examined the audio and other instruments. All wrecked by the shock. “I suppose we're lucky to escape with our lives. But we've merely postponed death if we can't get away from here."

Sual Av peered out through the cracked window, into the black abyss in which they were floating. The Venusian stiffened as he glimpsed something beyond the jagged, spinning planetoid about which their wreck was revolving.

"John, a ship is running up along the edge of the swarm!” he exclaimed. “I can see its lights!"

Thorn and the Mercurian leaped to the window. They stared at the little blob of light, coming slowly closer.

"If it's one of those cruisers that pursued us, we're done for,” said Gunner Welk tautly.

"It's not!” cried Thorn suddenly. “It's a pirate ship!"

CHAPTER IV

Pirate Princess

They saw the distant ship coast the edge of the vast meteor swarm for some minutes and then come to a halt in space, with a prolonged flash of its bow rocket-tubes halting it.

A moment later a cracked, shrill voice sounded from the little audiospeakers inside their helmets.

"Ahoy, Planeteers! Are any of you alive in that wreck?"

Thorn answered instantly. “We're all alive — John Thorn speaking."

"I figgered it'd take more than, a meteor-swarm to finish you three,” retorted the cracked voice, chuckling.

"Who's speaking? What ship is that?” Thorn demanded.

"Cautious, ain't ye?” said the shrill voice, with a cackle of mirth. “I don't blame you’ seeing how you boys was chased. But you needn't worry-this ain't no naval cruiser. We're Companions of Space. Want to come aboard?"

"Companions of Space? Pirates, eh?” Thorn said. “Yes, we'll come aboard."

"Figgered you would,” cackled the other. “We'll stand by, and you can come across with your impellers."

Thorn switched off his suit-audio and spoke to his two companions, clutching their arms to conduct his voice to them.

"Cut your audios and listen,” he said tautly. “These pirates may plan some kind of treachery, but I don't think so. This looks like our chance to get to their base at Turkoon. But if we get there, don't mention Erebus or the radite, whatever you do,

"We understand,” Gunner Welk muttered.

They each got a torch-like metal impeller from a locker, and then wrenched open the door amidships. Bracing his feet’ against its edge, John Thorn leaped out into the abyss.

He shot floatingly away from the wreck. As his momentum faded and he began to float back toward the wreck, Thorn switched on the impeller in his hand. The blast from it kicked his space-suited figure on through space.

Sual Av and the big Mercurian were following closely. The three progressed thus, with frequent flashes from their impellers thrusting them on toward the distant waiting pirate ship.

Bright stars gleamed like millions of watching eyes all around Thorn. He glimpsed the ominous red flash of colliding meteors, nearby. He had to turn constantly to make sure that they were moving toward the waiting craft. Soon they were very close to it, moving faster, now that its slight gravitational field drew them.

Thorn eyed the long, grim ship that floated here in space just outside the edge of the vast swarm. He judged that it had once been a Neptunian or Uranian naval cruiser-the design one adapted to great distances, and ominous muzzles of atom-guns peering forth along its sides spoke of heavy armament.

The Planeteers bumped the side of the vessel. They scrambled along it and into the waiting open air-lock.

* * *

A minute later they were inside, unscrewing their helmets and gazing about a lighted metal chamber. A half-dozen armed men were here, and one of them came forward to the three.

"So you're the famous Three Planeteers, eh?” he asked in the same cracked, quavering voice they had previously heard.

The speaker was an old, snow-haired Martian, his thin figure stooped, his red face incredibly wrinkled with age, his faded, rheumy eyes peering at them shortsightedly. He wore two atom-pistols in his belt, and was chewing rial leaf whose green juice he spat occasionally into a floor receptacle.

"Curse me if it doesn't do me good to look at you,” quavered the oldster, his oath making astounding contrast with his cracked voice and senile appearance. “Aye, it warms my heart to look at men the like of which I was myself, in the old days."

"Who are you?” Thorn asked steadily. “How did you happen along to pick us up?"

"As for who I am, the name is Stilicho Keene. Ever hear of it?” the old pirate answered shrilly.

"Stilicho Keene?” repeated Sual Av incredulously. “The notorious pirate of forty years ago?)

"The same,” answered the old Martian complacently. “Aye, long before you Planeteers was ever born, I was one of the leaders of the Companions of Space, back in the days when there were men in space and not the kind of milksops I have to give orders to now."

"You still haven't told us how you happened to be near to pick us up,” Thorn reminded.

Stilicho Keene turned his rheumy eyes on the young earthman. He chuckled as he spat rial juice.

"Sharp and curious, ain't ye? Well, I'd expect it of you. I was the same at your age, smart and quick and bold. But you were asking how we happened along. Well, this is the Venture, and we've been to Jupiter on a little errand for Princess Lana. Coming back, we heard the audio-calls of them cruisers chasing you Planeteers.

"We heard them give up the chase after you ducked into that meteor swarm. So I gave order to lay a course near the swarm, hoping we might meet you-and then we sighted your wreck. It looks like you'll have to go on to Turkoon with us now."

The old pirate continued admiringly, “I've heard a lot of you lads and the fine things you've done. The time you raided the governor's office at Titan and stole all that platinum, and the time you three alone held up that big Martian liner and robbed all the passengers of their valuables."

The old pirate could not know, Thorn thought grimly, that that raid on Titan had been really to secure League naval secrets and the platinum a mere blind, or that the hold-up of the Martian liner had had as its real objective the securing of a valuable new atom-gun drawing among the effects of a Jovian engineer.

"So when we get to Turkoon,” old Stilicho Keene was continuing eagerly, “maybe you Planeteers would think of joining up with us Companions, eh? It would be good to have some real men with us again, men such as I used to rocket with when I was young."

John Thorn's pulses leaped at the offer. But he kept his excitement hidden, and frowned a little.

"The Three Planeteers join an outfit led by a girl?” he returned a little disdainfully.,

"You wait till you meet this girl,” the old Martian told him. “You'll find she's a real leader, is Lana Cain."

"We'll talk of it when we get to Turkoon,” Thorn told him. “Anyway, we're damned grateful to you for picking us up."

"Aye, you bit off a little more than even you could chew, didn't you, on Earth?” cackled the hoary old sinner. “It warmed my heart to think of it. Kidnapping the Chairman of Earth! Only the Planeteers would have thought of trying that!"

Old Stilicho Keene led the way up through the dusky corridors and catwalks of the ship. The Planeteers shouldered past members of the crew who stared admiringly at them.

These pirates were a motley aggregation from every planet in the system — Martians, Saturnians and Uranians, wicked-looking Earthmen, fighters all, from the look of them.

Thorn and his comrades emerged after old Stilicho Keene into the broad, glassite-fronted control-room. A surly Jovian stood at the firingkeys, and a nervous, green-faced, hollow-eyed Saturnian at the bank of instruments on the right.

"Get going to Turkoon, Barbo,” ordered the pirate commander.

With roar of stern-tubes pouring forth proton-fire, the heavy cruiser shot forward in space.

John Thorn looked through the broad glassite windows. The Venture was moving counter-sunwise into the very heart of the Zone. Space ahead seemed thick with whirling clouds of light-specks that were meteor swarms, and steady bright sparks that were booming planetoids.

"How the devil do you navigate this damned jungle, anyway?” Gunner Welk asked the old Martian.

Stilicho Keene's wrinkled face grinned. “That's easy. We've got a little projector of vibrations planted on every big asteroid and in all swarms — each projector emitting a wave of a different frequency. We pick up the signals, and they show us just how far and in what direction each swarm and asteroid is, so we can avoid them. just like the lighthouses on the Earth seas, centuries ago."

He added with cunning satisfaction, “The signals don't help naval cruisers or other ships navigate the Zone, because they don't know the frequency-code and can't tell what's meant by the signals they hear. They've lost so many cruisers trying to get in here that they gave it up as a bad job."

The ship forged on through the wilderness of the Zone, constantly detouring to avoid the many perils to navigation that abounded here. It coasted along vast swarms, cut sharply upward to evade’ planetoids, slipped close past a small tailless comet that glimmered like a little white ghost sun.

Then John Thorn made out a small green speck in the blackness, toward which the Venture was now heading directly. It widened rapidly into a green disk. His black eyes narrowed.

"That's Turkoon, isn't it?"

"Aye, that's old Turkoon,” quavered Stilicho Keene. “The sweetest, safest, snuggest little harbor in the whole system. Good air and good water, and ringed round with all those swarms and asteroids that keep the prying naval cruisers away. A paradise for us gentlemen of the void. Aye, there it lies, like a pretty emerald in space, just as it lay when I first saw it long ago.

"It's seen a plenty, has old Turkoon. It's seen the bloody days of the old wild corsairs, with the scarred ship's roaring in to it, loaded with ores and jewels and silks and women. It's seen the days of Martin Cain, a generation ago, when full a thousand ships of the Companions put forth to space at one time. It's seen them all come and go — all the great, brave gentlemen of the void, has old Turkoon."

"And now,” Thorn said ironically, “it sees the Companions led by a girl."

"Aye, boy,” shrilled the old pirate, “it sees a girl leading us now. But she's Martin Cain's daughter — as deadly dangerous as ever her sire was. Aye, and as great a leader."

* * *

The Venture roared closer to the green asteroid and then dropped rapidly toward it, air whistling outside its walls.

"I didn't think an asteroid this small could have an atmosphere,” commented Sual Av, peering downward.

"'It must have unusual mass for its size — probably a core of neutronium or other super-heavy elements,” Thorn guessed. “Otherwise, the escape of its air molecules would be inevitable, and it wouldn't be able to hold an atmosphere."

"Let's hope that nothing holds us here, once we get what we're after,” muttered Gunner Welk.

Thorn was taut with the same thought. Down in this hell's nest of pirates was a girl with a secret that would save four worlds from conquest — if they could get it from her.

Turkoon widened beneath them, a little world blanketed by thick green fern-jungles. Directly underneath was a raw brown oval, a big clearing that had been blasted from the jungle. At one end of it gleamed the straggling chromaloy buildings of a town of considerable size, while parked ships covered the rest of the field.

The Venture landed with a roar of brake-blasts and a bumping jar beside the scores of parked ships. The door ports were rapidly unscrewed, and warm, heavy air hit the Planeteers’ faces as they followed old Stilicho Keene out of the ship.

"We'll go right up to the Council House. Martin Cain's house, it was, and Lana lives there now,” the old pirate told the three. His rheumy eyes glistened. “I want to see the faces of some of these young milksop captains when they learn that I've brought in the Three Planeteers!"

They went with Stilicho Keene across the field and through the main street of the straggling pirate town.

Turkoon Town sprawled, unkempt and somnolent, in the pale wash of light from the shrunken, setting sun. The looming dark green wall of the jungle was only rods from the outermost metal cabins.

Solemn, green and dark towered the fifty-foot jungle all around. Colossal ferns crowded each other, the space between their huge trunks choked with underbrush. Here and there in the tangle, blindly writhed “crawler vines,” parasitic fungoid creepers that wandered with their peculiar power of self-locomotion, searching for a host. Through the upper jungle and out over the town drifted “floating flowers,” white blooms that drank sunlight and water vapor from the air, and never touched ground after they budded free.

Thorn and his two comrades were eyed without interest by the motley population of the town — a population as varied in origin as the pirate crew they had already met. The men were from every inhabited world in the system. And there were also many women here — hot-eyed red Martian girls, languid white Venusian women, tall, awkward green girls from Saturn, brazen-faced Earth girls. All were clad in incongruously rich tunics and jewels-pirate loot.

Children, hybrids of a half dozen different peoples, fought and chased each other along the dusty brown street. And there was an astounding variety of animals from all planets, some chained, others running free. Solemn-eyed, furry Martian vardaks, green Venusian swamp pups, a big, hopping uniped from Io, and many others-all of them brought home here by the far-ranging pirate crews.

The crew of the Venture was stumping into town behind them, caning loudly to let all know they had returned. But by now, Stilicho Keene had brought the Planeteers to the long, low chromaloy building that faced the end of the main street.

The snow-haired old pirate painfully climbed the steps, and led them into a big, low-ceilinged, dusky room.

A small group of men stood in it, all wearing atom pistols.

"Where's Lana?” demanded the old pirate as this little group turned toward him.

"We're waiting for her. She'll be out in a moment,” answered a squat, scarred-faced Jovian who was one of the group. “So you finally got back, Stilicho!"

"Yes, I'm back,” shrilled the ancient Martian. “And a cursed strange thing it is that old Stilicho Keene has to go out on reconnaissance while you younger men rest your bones."

The old pirate spat real juice viciously out the open door and then turned to Thorn and his two comrades.

"Boy, I hate to admit it, but these are the captains of the Companions now,” he told Thorn. “Aye, these; the worthless lot who call themselves pirates in these degenerate days. Yon ox of a Jovian is Brun Abo. The pretty fellow beside him is Kinnel King, and the fat hog yonder is Jenk Cheerly, the latest to join our ranks."

Thorn's black eyes swept the pirate leaders. The man beside the Jovian, the man called Kinnel King, was an Earthman, middle-aged, with a very handsome face and brooding eyes.

Jenk Cheerly, the third pirate captain, was a Uranian of incredible obesity. His fat, puffy body seemed about to burst his jacket, and his pale-green, rotund face was featureless except for two bright, pig-like little eyes.

The obese Uranian stared at Thorn and his two comrades with those little eyes, and then spoke in an incongruously high and squeaky voice to old Stilicho Keene.

"Where did you pick up these three?” he asked. “And why did you bring them here?"

Stilicho Keene cackled, his rheumy eyes glistening.

"You'll find out who they are in a minute, Jenk,” he shrilled. “It's going to be a surprise for you, and all you other louts who call yourselves pirates."

A door in the rear of the room suddenly opened, and a girl in white silk jacket and trousers entered the room.

"You're back, Stilicho?” she exclaimed eagerly as she saw the old Martian. “What did you learn at Jupiter?"

Thorn's gaze riveted on the girl. He heard a low whisper from Sual Av behind him.

"So that's Lana Cain,” whispered the Venusian.

Lana Cain's eyes looked past the old Martian into Thorn's face. He felt the impact of her challenging stare as though it were a tangible shock.

The pirate girl was a slender, imperious figure in her silk garments. Her proud, graceful form seemed somehow vibrant with force. The bronze-gold hair that hung to her shoulders was like a casque of dull gold flame around her face, catching the glints of sunlight in its strands.

Her face was white, dynamic, with hardness in the straight red mouth and in the stubborn set of her small chin. Her dark blue eyes, as they stared into Thorn's face, were growing slowly darker, as though storm were gathering in them, tiny lightnings seeming to flash in their depths.

Thorn was momentarily bewildered, badly startled. He had expected some blowsy, barbaric, aging wench, whom he could, without difficulty, trick out of the secret he wanted. But this girl was as beautiful-and as dangerous-looking-as a sword blade.

CHAPTER V

Secret Enemy

IN the queerly tense silence Thorn stared at Lana Cain. Then the silence was suddenly broken by the shuffling entrance of a grotesque, four-legged creature that had followed the pirate girl into the room. It stared at Thorn with blazing green eyes.

"It's a space dog, John!” exclaimed Sual Av wonderingly. “You've heard of them."

"I've heard of them,” Thorn muttered. “But this is the first one I've ever seen."

The space dog stood three feet high at the shoulder. Its body was of dusty, mineraline gray flesh that had an inorganic look. Its four legs ended in heavy digging paws, and its mouth was furnished with great grindingtusks. It had no nostrils, for the creature was not an air-breathing animal.

It was, in fact, one of a unique species. The early explorers who first visited the asteroid Ceres had been amazed to find these creatures living on that airless little world. They were the product of an evolution working without atmosphere, creatures able to assimilate the inorganic elements they dug from the ground, and consume them by a chemical process other than oxidization. They had dim telepathic powers by which their rudimentary minds communed.

"Ool will not hurt you,” said Lana Cain crisply to Thorn.

She glanced at the blazing-eyed creature, and it lay down at her feet as it received her telepathic command.

"Stilicho, you brought these three men here?” the girl asked the old Martian. “Who are they?"

"Yes, who are they?” squeaked Jenk Cheerly, the obese, beady-eyed Uranian. “What's all the mystery about them?"

Stilicho Keene's rheumy eyes glistened, and his wrinkled face quivered with excitement as he answered.

"Why, they're just three lads I picked off a wreck coming back, and fetched along to Turkoon,” he quavered. The old man paused to enjoy his coming triumph, then added, “Maybe you've heard of these three boys. They're called the Three Planeteers."

"The Three Planeteers!"

Brun Abo, the squat Jovian, uttered that startled cry. He and everyone else in the room stared at John Thorn and Sual Av and Gunner Welk in rigidly frozen amazement.

The beady eyes of Jenk Cheerly, the fat Uranian, were wide with astonishment. Kinnel King, the Earthman, stiffened. And Lana Cain's dark blue eyes narrowed incredulously as she stared at Thorn's dark face.

"It's them, all right,” muttered the Jovian in a moment. “I've seen their pictures on reward notices."

"Those pictures on the notices were poor likenesses,” said Sual Av, a grin on his froglike face. “They hardly did me justice, as you can see for yourselves."

"What do you Planeteers want here, if you are the Planeteers?” demanded Jenk Cheerly suspiciously.

Gunner Welk stiffened at the fat green pirate's question.

"We're not in the custom of asking anybody's leave for our coming and goings, Uranian!” he flared.

"Not even the Planeteers can talk to me like that!” squeaked Jenk Cheerly furiously, his hand dropping to his side.

"Draw that atom-pistol, and I'll shove it down your fat throat,” warned the towering Mercurian ominously.

"Quiet, Gunner,” snapped John Thorn. “I'll do the talking."

"Let them fight!” urged old Stilicho Keene with quavering eagerness, a ghoulish avidity in his rheumy eyes as he leaned forward. “There's nothing to warm the blood like the sight of two good men in a stand-up fight."

"There'll be no fighting here!” flared Lana Cain. “You all know my rules! If any of you doesn't like them he can get out of Turkoon and out of the Zone!"

The girl's voice cracked like a silver whip, and her dark blue eyes were stormy now with little lightnings. The space dog, Ool, had sprung to his feet, his great green eyes blazing.

Thorn sensed the electric force in this girl which had kept her the acknowledged leader of the wild Companions of Space. The others in the room were stricken to sullen silence by it.

Lana's stormy eyes swung back to Thorn.

"Jenk's question was a fair one, John Thorn,” she declared. “What are you Planeteers doing here? You’ never came into the Zone before — you always worked by yourselves."

Thorn shrugged. “We didn't come here by choice. Perhaps you heard of the trouble we got into at Earth?"

"We heard of your attempt to kidnap the Chairman there,” Lana nodded curtly. “Go on."

"We bungled the job and had to run for it with half the Earth Navy on our tail,” Thorn continued coolly. “We tried to lose them in a swarm and got wrecked. The old Martian there picked us up and brought us here to Turkoon. It's not a place we'd have picked voluntarily.” Lana stiffened, and asked dangerously, “You don't think much then of we Companions and our ways?"

"Not much,” Thorn answered coolly. “I've no doubt your followers are good fighters, but they look like rather an undisciplined rabble."

Thorn was playing his part to the hilt. He knew well that for the famous Planeteers to seem too friendly on first acquaintance, too eager to join the pirates, would quickly arouse suspicion.

"But, boy, I was hoping that you three would join’ up with us!” quavered old Stilicho Keene dismayedly.

"The Planeteers work alone,” Thorn declared frowningly. Then he appeared to hesitate, and added, “It's true that we're stranded here now without a ship—"

Sual Av instantly played up to him. “Yes, John, we need a ship and equipment. Maybe we could work with these people for a while, and take a new cruiser as our share of loot."

"You haven't been asked to join the Companions yet,” flared Lana Cain. “You Planeteers are just three men here. I could order you gunned down and it would be done."

John Thorn looked at her steadily with cool black eyes. “Would you do that?"

"No, I wouldn't,” she admitted after a moment. “Turkoon is a refuge for every outlaw who comes into the Zone, as long as he obeys my rules. And I don't countenance killing here."

Thorn smiled. “After all, we Planeteers are in no position to be choosers. We need a ship. We'll join up with you for a while, if you're agreeable, and take a ship as our share of spoil, and then be on our way. What do you say?"

Lana frowned in thought, her anger gone. “We do need captains,” she murmured.

"And where will you find better ones than the Planeteers?” cried old Stilicho Keene with shrill eagerness. “Take them in, lass — it's heaven sent them here to help us in the big new foray we've planned."

"We can pull that job without their help,” squeaked Jenk Cheerly, his pig-like eyes malignant. “What do we need with the Planeteers?"

Brun Abo, the squat Jovian, nodded sullen agreement. But Kinnel King, the handsome Earthman, turned on the obese Uranian.

"After all, Jenk,” said Kinnel King silkily, “you yourself are still a newcomer in our midst. We don't need advice from you on this."

"No brawling!” Lana ordered imperiously. She continued, “John Thorn, I'm taking you three into the Companions. But understand one thing. When we blast off Turkoon, everyone is under my command, even the Planeteers."

Thorn frowned, though inwardly his heart was pounding with elation.

"We're not used to being under orders of anyone,” he declared.

"Take it or leave it!” Lana flashed. “There can only be one leader when ships go into action."

Thorn finally shrugged. “Well, as I said, we're not in a position to be choosers. We follow your orders in space."

"That's settled, then,” Lana said curtly. Her slender figure swung round to Stilicho Keene. “Now what about your reconnaissance, Stilicho? Did you find out anything at Jupiter about those scheduled freighters?"

The old Martian nodded his white head vigorously. “Sure did. We slipped in to Jupiter without bein’ spotted, and landed secretly in that big marsh near Vosek. Me and one of my boys went into the city in disguise and hung around the docks. We saw rich cargo bein’ loaded in them freighters — thirty of ‘em. We waited till they took off, a bunch of tankers with ‘em. They're blasting along without any naval convoy. I figger them to cross under the Zone tomorrow, on their way to Saturn."

"Didn't I tell you they'd sail without convoy?” squeaked Jenk Cheerly, the obese Uranian's eyes glistening. “Wasn't my tip right? This'll be a rich haul, and without even a fight."

Lana Cain turned to Thorn and his two comrades and explained crisply.

"Jenk just joined us two weeks ago. He came with his ship from Jupiter, where he had a secret base on one of the outer moons. He brought advance notice of these rich Jovian freighters scheduled to transit across the inner orbits of the system to reach Saturn which is now approaching opposition.

"They're without convoy,” the pirate girl continued rapidly, “because the League of Cold Worlds is concentrating all its cruisers at Saturn right now, preparing for the great attack they're going to make on the Alliance. I sent Stilicho to check their sailing and make sure they had rich cargo. We'll surprise them tomorrow when they pass under the Zone."

"Yes, and fine loot there'll be to divide,” squeaked the obese Uranian gloatingly. “We'll gun them to a wreck, and gut them of every scrap of spoil, and leave not a man alive on them to take the tale to Saturn."

"No!” exclaimed Lana hotly. “No massacre! I told you my rules when you joined us, Jenk. The Companions willfully spill no blood as long as I lead them!"

"My rule has always been to leave nobody alive to testify against me in a space-court,” grumbled the fat Uranian shrilly. “This tenderheartedness—"

"It isn't just tenderheartedness; it's good strategy!” flashed Lana Cain, her blue eyes determined. “When freighter-men know they're going to be massacred if they surrender, they fight to the last man. But when they know that only their cargo will be taken, and their lives spared, they surrender a lot more quickly. Further, the hunt against us is never so bitter. It was my father's rule to take no life, and it's mine, and it's paid returns to the Companions."

"That it has!” declared Brun Abo, the Jovian, “It's saved us many a bitter fight-and possibly extermination."

The girl looked around them as he gave her orders.

"Our chief spatial navigator will check their course against Saturn's and ours. We'll blast off tomorrow dawn, with forty ships. That'll give us time enough to be waiting in the Zone, and when the Jovian freighters pass underneath, we'll swoop down on them."

"What about Gunner and Sual Av and me?” John Thorn asked her. “We have no ship, remember."

"You'll be furnished one, and a crew to go with it,” Lana answered crisply. “From what I've heard of you Planeteers, you'll be able to handle your part."

She ran her hand a little tiredly through her mop of dull-gold hair.

"That's all, men. See that your ships and men are ready to blast off at dawn. And not too much drinking tonight!"

As the pirate captains started to troop out, the girl added to the old Martian, “Stilicho, find a cabin for the Planeteers."

Thorn was starting out with his two comrades after the old pirate, when Lana's voice halted him.

"Wait, John Thorn. There's something I want to ask you."

Thorn turned, surprised. The girl was looking at him with a queerly thoughtful expression in her blue eyes, her small hand idly patting the space dog that had risen beside her.

"You were in the Earth Navy before you became an outlaw, weren't you?” she asked him.

Thorn nodded. “Until I deserted,” he admitted curtly.

Lana pointed up to a picture on the wall, a portrait of a hard-faced, middle-aged man with piercing eyes.

"My father, Martin Cain, was officer in the Earth Navy, too, before he became an outlaw,” she said slowly. “Do they ever speak of my father on Earth? What do they say of him?"

Thorn told her the truth. “They speak of him only as notorious pirate. Few remember he was ever a naval man."

"But he was, and one of their best officers,” Lana said bitterly. “It was the jealousy of other officers over his promotions that formed a cabal which had him dishonorably discharge. That was the reward of Earth for all the service he'd given his native planet."

"You don't think much of Earth, eh?” Thorn said curiously. “Yet, after all, it's really your native world."

"The Zone is my world — I was born here. I hate Earth for what it did to my father!” the girl flashed. “I'll be glad to see the League smash the inner worlds, for though I hate the League and its dictator, I've an even greater hate for Earth!"

Thorn felt a faint hope he had cherished until now, die within him. He had hoped that the pirate girl might be induced to save Earth from conquest by telling him the secret of Erebus. But he saw how futile had been that slight hope. This girl had only bitter hatred for the world she deemed to have wronged her father.

"Your father was an extraordinary man,” Thorn mused, looking up at the portrait. “A great fighter and organizer, a wonderful navigator. They say that he even visited Erebus, the tenth world, though I suppose that's just a baseless legend."

"It's the truth!” Lana declared proudly. “My father was on Erebus two weeks, and came back safely — the only man in the whole history of the Solar System that ever did so."

John Thorn stared incredulously. “How did he do it? How did he avoid whatever peril there has swallowed so many men?—"

"I can't tell you that,” the girl A said slowly. “I've never told anybody what my father told me about Erebus."

"Then,” Thorn said wonderingly, “you're the only person in the whole system who knows anything about that mystery world? The only person who knows how it might be visited safely?"

The girl nodded slowly. A queer expression, one of somber, haunting memory, had come into her vital blue eyes.

"Yes, I'm the only one who knows the secret of Erebus,” she admitted. “And nobody will ever learn it from me. I have reasons for keeping silence about that world!"

She trembled slightly. Thorn, watching her tautly, felt a queer chill as of a cold, alien breath in the room.

"But I do not know why I am talking of Erebus,” she said impatiently. “I am tired. I shall see you tomorrow at dawn, before our ships blast off."

Thus dismissed, Thorn left the Council House and walked slowly, deep in thought, down the street of Turkoon Town. The sun was setting, and from the little crimson disk a flood of pale red light uncannily illuminated the dark, surrounding fern jungle, the raw field and parked ships, and the straggling metal town.

He found the metal cabin assigned them. Gunner Welk and Sual Av sprang up eagerly as he entered.

"We've made it so far, John!” exclaimed the bald Venusian excitedly. “We're in with the pirates now, at least. Did you find out anything about Erebus from the girl?"

Thorn shook his head. “She won't talk about Erebus — she seems almost afraid to. I didn't dare press questions."

"We can't wait forever to get the secret out of her,” rumbled Gunner Welk warningly. “Even when we get it, it'll take a lot of time to get out to Erebus and lift the radite, remember."

"I know,” Thorn muttered. “But well ruin all our chances if we're too rash now."

He fished in his pocket for a rial cigarette.

"It's possible,” he said, “that whatever her father told her about Erebus—"

Thorn stopped speaking. His face froze as he pulled out the thing he had felt in his pocket. It was a tiny metal sphere, only a half-inch in diameter, With a minute aperture in it.

"An Ear,” exclaimed Sual Av appalledly.

Thorn dropped the thing like a poisonous snake and ground it under his heel. His dark face was grim as he looked down at the shattered fragments of the Ear.

The thing was a super-compact and super-sensitive audio transmitter. It picked up all sound in its immediate vicinity and broadcast it electro-magnetically, for a short range. Both police and criminals of the system used Ears for eavesdropping at a distance.

"Someone slipped it into my pocket in the Council House!” Thorn rapped. “See if there are any more."

But a swift search of their clothing and of the cabin disclosed no more Ears.

"Whoever put that Ear in my pocket suspects us!” Thorn said grimly. “And whoever it is knows now from our talk that we came here after the secret of Erebus, that we're after the radite!

"Thank heaven,” he added tightly, “that we didn't give away the fact that we want the radite for Earth, that we're Earth agents."

"This is bad, John,” said Sual Av, his ugly face sober. “Who do you think suspects us? Lana Cain herself?"

"If it were she, or someone loyal to her,” rumbled Gunner Welk, “she'd have sent men here to seize us by now!"

"Gunner's right — it can't be Lana,” muttered Thorn. “Someone here is playing a deep game of his own. And whoever it is doesn't like us, and knows now just what we're here for."

"John, our hidden enemy will have a fine chance to gun us tomorrow in the confusion of this attack on the Jovian freighters,” warned Sual Av.

Thorn's brown face hardened. “I know. But we have to keep right on playing our part here, until we get the secret. We've got to take our part in the foray, and keep looking out for trouble."

CHAPTER VI

The Trap

Forty pirate ships throbbed steadily through the wilderness of the Zone. Their course through the jungle of swarms and debris was sunwise. The six basic directions in space navigation are sunwise and counter-sunwise — that is, in the same direction as the rotation of the sun or in an opposite direction; sunward and outward — that is, toward or away from the sun; and up or down, from the equatorial plane of the Solar System as plotted by the fixed stars.

The pirate fleet moved in a close formation of short columns. In the lead was Lana Cain's silvery cruiser, the Lightning. The ship that had been given the Planeteers to command, the Cauphul, was close behind her. On one side of them sailed old Stilicho Keene's cruiser, and on the other the ship of Jenk Cheerly, which was marked on the bows with an ominous, painted black skull.

John Thorn stared through the glassite window of the control-room, as they throbbed on. In the pilot's chair beside him sat Sual Av.

"I don't like this raid,” the Venusian was saying, his ugly face troubled. “An attack on peaceful freighters is out of our line, John."

"Nobody on those freighters will be killed,” Thorn reassured him. “You heard Lana's orders. And we've got to help rob those ships, to keep up the part we're playing here. We've got to do anything until we get that secret out of the girl. And they are not Alliance craft."

"I still can't see how we can get it from her,” muttered Sual Av, his green eyes thoughtful. “We can't use force, when she's surrounded by hundreds of her men all the time. She doesn't look the kind who can be tricked. And from what’ you said, she'll never tell it to you of her own free will."

"We'll find a way,” Thorn declared tightly. “But I wish I knew who planted that Ear on me, and what his game is."

Thorn watched the wilderness of meteor swarms, cross-orbiting planetoids, and occasional stray comets past which they sailed. There was no need for navigating by the wave-code, with Lana's cruiser leading the way.

Finally the silvery torpedo-shape of the Lightning slowed down and stopped. At once all the other pirate ships responded with a blast of fire from their bow tubes, braking themselves.

Thorn looked out. They were lying low in the Zone, close by a meteor swarm whose myriad masses of stone showed very near their ships in the aura-chart. They had reached the point under which the Jovian freighters would soon pass, when they detoured downward under the Zone as all ordinary shipping did.

Thorn spoke into the interphone connecting the ship's divisions.

"Gunner, are you cleared for action down there?"

Gunner Welk's rumbling voice came through the instrument from the gun-decks where the mighty Mercurian had taken command.

"All ready! Every man's at his post."

"On space-suits, everybody,” Thorn ordered sharply. “Then stand by."

It was customary before an action in space for all the crew of a ship to don their suits, so that in case their hull was torn open they could continue to work and fight the ship until there was time to make repairs.

Thorn and Sual Av put on their own suits and helmets. Then they waited in silence, their ship floating beside the others. Lana Cain had strictly forbidden use of the audio between ships until the attack opened, lest the freighters be given the alarm.

Thorn peered through the eyepiece of the telescope built into the wall between the broad windows. He could see no sign of the freighters sunward, and his eyes tired.

A little later, Sual Av gripped his arm and pointed ahead at Lana's ship.

"The signal, John! They're coming!"

Lana's silvery cruiser had emitted three short flashes of fire from its bow and stern tubes, the agreed signal.

Thorn peered again through the scope. Now he saw the coming freighters, far down and sunward. They were coming straight on, and would pass the Zone directly underneath the pirates.

There were thirty big freighters, and lagging after them came forty tankers of the type used for transporting liquefied gases, broad-beamed and very dumpy ships, Thorn's keen eyes searched space for sign of a naval convoy, but found none.

"Those are the dumpiest tankers I've ever seen,” he muttered. “It's a wonder that freighters running without convoy would take such old tubs along to hold their speed down."

Sual Av shrugged. “The League worlds are pressing every old ship they've got into service, in their preparation for war. Anyway,” he grinned, “these pirates aren't going to bother the tankers."

The merchantmen came steadily on, and now the freighters that led were directly underneath the part of the Zone in which the pirate fleet hovered. Thorn knew the aura-charts of the freighters would show the pirate ships only as part of the great meteor swarm they were lying near. That was why Lana had chosen the position.

Thorn's nerves tensed as the Jovian freighters came directly underneath, a little flock of gleaming specks swimming on through black space toward distant Saturn, the slow tankers still lagging behind. Sual Av was leaning tensely over his bank of keys, and there was no sound in the ship except the throb of its power chambers.

Abruptly from the audio-speaker flared Lana Cain's silver voice.

"Attack! Dive on them!"

Forty pirate ships streamed blasting white fire from their stern tubes, forty grim torpedo-like shapes roared down through the spatial vault toward the thirty hapless freighters.

As they swooped, the forty corsair craft split into five divisions of eight ships each. The eight led by the flashing cruiser of the Three Planeteers headed toward the sunwise end of the freighters. Jenk Cheerly and his division headed for the counter-sunwise end. Kinnel King for the sunward and Brun Abo for the outward sides. Lana Cain herself, with Stilicho Keene's ship and six others, cometed down below the merchantmen.

John Thorn saw that the swift maneuver had succeeded. The freighters were “boxed" — hemmed in on every side except the upward one, which was closed by the dreaded Zone. The pirates had not included the worthless, lagging tankers in their trap, and those dumpy ships were still coming bewilderedly on.

The freighters, as the corsairs swooped down around them, milled confusedly with blasts from their bow-tubes braking them, seeking to find a way out of the trap. The few atom-guns with which they were armed spat shells frantically, that exploded in blinding flares of atomic energy.

"Ahoy, freighters"’ rang Lana's silvery voice from the audio. “Cease firing or we'll gun you out of space! Surrender and nobody will be harmed!"

"How do we know you'll keep your promise?” came the hoarse, fear-laden voice of the freight squadron commander.

"This is Lana Cain speaking!” answered the girl's voice instantly. “I keep my promises."

A moment's silence. The scattered fire from the trapped freighters suddenly stopped.

The freight commander's answer came. “You've the reputation of not killing. We'll surrender."

Sual Av, his green eyes gleaming with excitement through his helmet, glanced swiftly at John Thorn.

"The girl's policy of mercy does pay dividends, John,” he muttered.

"Stand by to board the freighters!” crackled Lana's voice to her pirate followers. “Two ships in each division stand off to keep watch. Hurry, men!"

Like sharks eager for prey, thirty of the forty pirate cruisers one to each victim, dashed in at the helpless freighters. The lead-ship of each division, with one other, stood by ready to turn its guns on any freighter that might resist the boarding.

Thorn's cruiser, the Cauphul, was one of those that stood off to keep watch. He saw the pirate ships already hooking onto the freighters by means of the magnetic grapples they shot forth. The grapple-lines were winched in swiftly, the pirate and merchant ships were drawn close together, and the flexible metal catwalks run swiftly out between them by the corsairs. Then the space-suited pirate horde was pouring across the short, swaying catwalks, hammering at the doors of the freighters until they opened.

Back across the precarious catwalks staggered the helmeted pirates, laden with bales and cases, sacks of valuable minerals, bars of rare metals, crates of silks and wines and foods.

"Why can't we be in on this?” demanded Sual Av, twitching with excitement. “There's no fun to lying off here watching the others."

"It's Lana's orders,” reminded John Thorn. “And we Planeteers agreed to take her orders when we were in space."

Thorn looked sunward, and frowned. “Why the devil haven't those tankers run for it? The fools are blundering right on."

The forty tubby tankers that had been laboriously trailing the freighters in space were coming stupidly on the scene of the hold-up, as though unable to realize what was happening. They were now quite close.

Thorn's brain suddenly sounded an alarm, as he stared at the oncoming tankers. His eyes, trained by long naval experience, saw something queer about the lines of those dumpy ships, something—

He leaped to the audio. “Lana, those tankers are disguised naval cruisers!” he yelled. “They're—"

His warning was too late. At the very moment Thorn shouted, the forty “tankers” were unmasking.

Their bulging sides suddenly fell away. Those sides had been only a skin of thin metal plates. Their disappearance exposed the ships, not as tankers, but as sleek, grim-lined naval cruisers with batteries of heavy atomguns all along their sides, and with the four interlaced circles of the League of Cold Worlds on their bows.

Instantly the unmasked League cruisers shot forward. Their rocket-tubes burst fire, and from their batteries hailed a storm of deadly shells that burst in blinding lightning-flares among the startled pirate ships.

* * *

The trap had been perfectly sprung. The League cruisers, lagging behind in the guise of slow tankers, had waited until the pirate ships were hooked onto the freighters by grapples and catwalks, their crews engaged in looting. Then they had thrown off their disguise and leaped in on the Companions’ ships.

"Cut away!” cried Lana Cain's voice from the audio. “It's a trap! Cut loose and break for the Zone!"

Thorn saw her silvery cruiser leap forward to engage the rushing League battleships, to try to hold them back while the pirates engaged in looting could cut away from the freighters.

Loyally, old Stilicho Keene's long black cruiser, and four or five others dashed forward with the pirate girl's silver ship. And Thorn's cruiser was one of those that followed her, for Thorn had yelled the order to Sual Av.

Blinding, dazzling flares of bursting atom-shells from the League cruisers seared space around Thorn's ship, Sual Av was following Lana's lead right into the forefront of the formidable League battle-squadron.

"Drive in to cover Lana's ship!” Thorn cried to the Venusian. “If they get her, everything's ruined for us!"

He yelled into the interphone. “Let go with all batteries to starboard, Gunner!"

The Cauphul shook to the roar of its straining rocket-tubes and the thudding thunder of its atom-guns going off as Sual Av flung the ship in beside Lana's silvery cruiser.

The very madness of the wild counter-attack of the little handful of pirate ships, as they dashed fiercely at the League cruisers, seemed momentarily to disconcert the latter. Precious moments were gained in which the main body of the pirate fleet was hastily cutting away from the freighters they had grappled.

Thorn was wild with anxiety for Lana Cain. If anything happened to the girl, if the mysterious secret of Erebus died with her—

The League cruisers had not concentrated any fire upon her silver ship yet. They were pouring shells upon the other pirate craft, including Thorn's, but Lana's had escaped fire even though she had her batteries streaming shells forth.

Thorn was thrown from his feet as a salvo of blinding bursts rocked the Cauphul. He heard the scream of escaping air below, the slam of automatic doors as he staggered up.

"They've got Lana's ship!” Sual Av shouted hoarsely. “Look!"

Thorn's heart plummeted as he saw through the fight. A League cruiser had got its magnetic grapples onto Lana Cain's silver ship, and was drawing it closer. It had grappled her craft by its keel, so that she was unable to use her guns.

"They've got my ship, Companions!” stabbed the pirate girl's voice, clear and unafraid, from the audio. “You can't save me — break for the Zone while you have the chance!"

"If we don't do as she says,” cried Sual Av tensely, “we'll be gunned to a wreck. But if we leave her—"

"We can't leave her!” John Thorn exclaimed fiercely. “Our plan for the Alliance depends on her!"

CHAPTER VII

Shadow of the League

John Thorn's ship rocked wildly as another shell struck it. The shells of all atom-guns contained a charge of powdered metal whose atoms had been brought to a critical point of instability. When an electric charge stored in the shell was released, either by impact or a timer, it detonated the unstable atoms into a destroying flare of atomic energy. These deadly shells were fired from guns and pistols by the push of an electroisolenoid built into the barrel.

Red lights flashing on and off in the panel in front of him warned Thorn that already a half dozen compartments of the Cauphul had been holed and had lost their air. Down below, Gunner Welk was still keeping his crew batteries going, pouring shell out on the encircling League cruisers, but at any moment a hit on their rocket-tubes or power-chambers might disable them entirely.

Thorn's mind was crazy with worry for the fate of Lana Cain. The League cruiser that had hooked its magnetic grapples on the keel of her ship was still winching her helpless craft closer. The capture or killing of the pirate girl meant the collapse of his great plan, and the probable ruin of the four inner worlds.

"We've got to free Lana's ship!” he cried to Sual Av over the thudding of guns. “There's only one way — drive our ship between hers and the one that's hooked her — break the grapple-lines!"

Sual Av's green eyes widened startledly inside his glassite helmet. Then the bald Venusian laughed recklessly.

"All right — here goes, John! Hold tight!'!

"Cease firing!” Thorn yelled into the interphone to Gunner Welk at the same moment.

Sual Av's fingers smashed down on firing keys. The Cauphul jumped forward in space, a raving torrent of energy streaming from her stern tubes.

The Venusian drove the ship straight toward the two craft ahead, the League cruiser and the Lightning. The half-dozen grapple-lines had been now so far drawn in that there was not enough room for a third ship to pass between the two.

But Sual Av steered the hurtling Cauphul between the two, anyway. Space around them seemed blazing with continuous flares of bursting atom-shells.

Crash! The grinding shock that flung Thorn to the floor of the control-room seemed to him the end of everything. The Cauphul, rushing in between the Lightning and the League cruiser grappling it, sideswiped both ships with stunning force.

Thorn tried, to clutch a stanchion and pull himself up, as the control-room rocked wildly around him. He heard the triumphant shout of the bald Venusian clinging to the controlpanel.

"We're through, John! We did it!"

Thorn's ship had crashed in between the other two, forcing its way through and breaking the grapple-lines.

"Blast away, Lana!” yelled Thorn into the audio. “You're clear now!"

Like a streak of light, the silvery cruiser of the pirate girl shot upward. And with it cometed the battered Cauphul, and old Stilicho Keene's black ship. The other pirate craft that had tried to help Lana counterattack the League cruisers had been riddled to helpless wrecks by the heavy fire of the enemy.

But the main body of the pirate fleet had had time to cut away from their prey during the few minutes of the furious fight below. They were shooting out like startled hawks of space, joining Lana Cain's cruiser and the other two as they sped upward.

"Up to the Zone!” pealed the girl's voice from the audio.

Rising together as they soared through space, the pirate ships streaked upward through the vault. Hot after them raced the League cruisers, which now outnumbered the pirates.

"What in the devil's name's going on?” roared Gunner Welk's voice. “That crash strained our sides! It looks down here as though the ship will crumple any minute."

"If we can get into the Zone, we can lose those cruisers,” Sual Av was muttering. “If she'll just keep going until then!"

Thorn could hear the Cauphul groaning and creaking beneath the fierce thrust of her blazing rocket-tubes. The hull of the ship, weakened by shell-fire and badly strained by the side-swiping collision, threatened to crumple up without notice.

The pirate ships could not match the heavily armed League cruisers in fire-power. But one thing the ships of the Companions of Space did have, and that was speed. They were drawing slowly away from the hotly pursuing cruisers as they rushed upward.

It was a wild yet thrilling scene to John Thorn's eyes! The black vault of abysmal space around them tapestried with countless blazing stars, the blinding flares of atom-shells bursting like exploding lightning, the raving flame of proton-fire from pursued and pursuing ships, and the vast, vague cloud of light-flecks of the Zone stretching above.

They were thundering up into the Zone now, Lana Cain's silver ship leading, curving sharply to avoid the meteor-swarm directly above. But the League cruisers were pursuing them into the vast wilderness of debris.

"Scatter!” came the girl's sharp order from the audio. “We'll rendezvous at Turkoon!"

"That finishes us, John,” said Sual Av bitterly. “We don't know the wave code. We can't navigate this damned jungle."

But hard on the heels of his words came a quick call from the girl.

"Planeteers! Keep your ship with mine!"

The pirate ships scattered in all directions, like a frightened flock of wild fowl. Darting away through the swarms and planetoids, navigating by means of the coded wave-signals from the projectors on every swarm and asteroid, they melted away.

The League fleet could not hope to pursue all those diverging ships through the wilderness of debris in which they were perfectly at home. But a dozen League cruisers followed purposefully after Lana's silver ship and the Planeteers’ crippled craft as they raced away through the Zone in a counter-sunwise direction.

"Damn them, they must have recognized Lana's ship and they're determined to catch her!” Sual Av exclaimed.

Gunner Welk's towering spacesuited figure came thrusting hastily into the control-room.

"John, the compartment walls are cracking down there!” exclaimed the Mercurian. “If they—"

A thunderous explosion from below interrupted his words. Instantly, the Cauphul's acceleration decreased, the roar of its rocket-tubes sharply diminished.

"One power-chamber has exploded!” yelled an engineer's voice from the interphone.

"We're sunk!” the big Mercurian cried.

"No, Lana's coming around!” John Thorn exclaimed.

They had been rushing close to the coast of a far-flung swarm, with the pirate girl's silver ship just ahead, the League cruisers a fair distance behind, when the explosion had occurred. Now the silvery Lightning was darting back around to their side.

"I'm standing by to take you on!” Lana cried from the audio-speaker. “Hurry!"

"Break open the portside door to abandon ship!” Thorn yelled into the interphone. “Cut the tubes, Sual, and, come on!"

The Planeteers hastened down out of the control-room through the wrecked ship. The motley crew of the Cauphul, all in suits and helmets like the three comrades, had got the round door on the portside open. There was no air now in the whole ship, and its walls and beams were sagging and cracking ominously as it floated on in space under inertia.

Up to the side of the Cauphul drove the Lightning. There was no time to hook on with magnetic grapples or run out catwalks, for the League cruisers were coming up along the edge of the great meteor swarm in hot pursuit. The Lightning's starboard door was open, the silvery ship keeping even with the wreck only a few yards away.

"Jump for it!” Thorn yelled to his crew. “Hurry!"

Across the gap between ships shot space-suited figures like human projectiles, leaping toward the big open door of the Lightning. Those who missed the door grabbed lines that had been flung out, and were hauled in like floundering fish.

There was a thundering crash of metal as a whole section of the Cauphul's stern collapsed. The wreck sagged drunkenly in space, and the League cruisers were racing closer.

"This is getting a little too hot for even the Planeteers!” laughed Sual Av as he leaped.

Gunner Welk followed, and John Thorn jumped last. He felt himself hurtle floatingly across the gap toward the open door of the Lightning, infinity below and above him. Then he hit the edge of the door and a hand grasped his arm and pulled him in.

Instantly the Lightning sprang forward with renewed acceleration as its stern tubes blasted. The door was ground shut.

Thorn and his two comrades climbed to the control-room. When he entered it, a glance showed him that they were now pulling steadily away from their pursuers.

Lana Cain, her slender figure bulky in space-suit and helmet, was leaning beside the Jovian pilot at the firingkeys. She was listening intently to the constant buzzing from the section of the panel that received the navigation wave-signals.

"Turn ninety degrees outward, and fifteen degrees upward, Rimil!” exclaimed the girl. “That'll take us between swarms where they won't follow for long."

The Lightning curved sharply, shot between the two vast clouds of dangerous debris.

Looking back through the rear window of the bulging control-room, Thorn saw two of the pursuing League cruisers glow red and fall out of line. They had been meteor-struck. Trying to cut across after their quarry without aid of the wave-code navigation signals, they had blundered into the edge of one swarm.

The other League ships slackened speed, and tried to grope their way ahead. But the Lightning, dashing on at full speed and then changing course abruptly to cut up across a “family” of whirling, planetoids, soon lost them from sight.

"Off suits. We're safe from them now!” Lana called into the interphone.

Thorn and his two comrades divested themselves with relief of their suits and helmets, as the girl did likewise.

Lana turned toward the Planeteers. The girl's bronze-gold hair was tossed in disorder, her face flushed, her dark blue eyes blazing with excitement. There was something vital and dynamic about her, and there was a throbbing, eager emotion in her eyes as she faced Thorn, impulsively holding out her hand.

"You Planeteers saved me down there!” she exclaimed. “If you hadn't rammed in between ships and broken those grapple-lines—"

John Thorn felt a queer sense of shame as her warm little hand grasped his. If she knew his real reason for taking such desperate chances to save her, he thought — But it was for four great worlds.

"I'll never forget this, John Thorn,” Lana was saying earnestly.

"I'll never forget it, either,” growled Gunner Welk, rubbing a bruised shoulder. “When we wedged, between the two ships it nearly threw me right through a wall of the gun-deck."

Sual Av grinned ruefully. “I'm not so sure I want to be a raid pirate, if this kind of thing happens often."

"It was a cunning trap set for us Companions by the League navies,” declared Lana. “They even actually loaded those freighters with rich cargo, knowing we'd have spies watching who would report that, and that we'd make an attack when we heard. And they had those cruisers disguised as tankers, ready to gun us as soon as we were busy looting the freighters."

Her blue eyes flashed. “But we escaped their trap! We didn't lose more than four of our ships, and we've got a good portion of the freighters’ cargoes — the cargoes that were to be the bait of the trap!"

"If old Stilicho Keene watched those freighters and tankers sail from Jupiter why didn't he suspect their game?” Thorn asked her keenly. “A close look at the tankers would have showed him that they were disguised cruisers."

Lana looked troubled. “I can't understand why Stilicho didn't see that.” She added loyally, “But it can't be any fault of his. And, anyway, we, got out safely."

"If that League cruiser that grappled onto you had gunned you, it would have been the end of you,” John Thorn told her. “I can't understand why they didn't when they had you helpless."

"Neither can I,” Lana confessed. “They must have wanted to capture me, and take me to be tried and executed as a lesson to the whole system. If so, they overreached themselves!"

She turned to the Jovian pilot, and ordered, “Straight to Turkoon, now. There's no danger of more pursuit."

As the Lightning throbbed on through the Zone, homing toward the jungle asteroid like all the other scattered pirate ships, John Thorn drew his two comrades unobtrusively back down into the privacy of the narrow corridor below the control-room.

"There was something damned queer about that trap the League set!” Thorn declared. “Their whole object seemed to be to capture this ship — to capture Lana — and they took good care not to fire once at her craft, lest they kill her."

Sual Av stared, perplexed. “But why would the League set such an elaborate trap as that to capture her?"

"Why did we come here to seek out the girl?” Thorn countered meaningly. “Because she has a secret that we want."

Gunner Welk started. “You mean that the League may be after the secret of Erebus, too? That the League may be trying—"

"Trying to get that radite on Erebus, the same as we are?” Thorn finished. He frowned. “It's possible. Remember, we heard that the League planned some frightful new agent of destruction to use on the Alliance worlds, to beat them into submission after they smash our fleet. Maybe the radite has something to do with that!"

Sual Av's green eyes widened. “Then it might be a League agent who put that Ear in your pocket yesterday, who is working from inside the pirates as we are and helped plan this trap? But who is it? Brun Abo, or Jenk Cheerly, or old Stilicho, maybe?"

"Whichever it is, if a League agent is after the girl's secret, we've got to beat him to it!” burst Gunner. “'But how?"

"She'll never tell me the secret, I'm sure of that, even though she feels grateful to me now,” Thorn said, frowning. “But she may have written down what her father told her about Erebus. She may have the secret among her papers."

Sual Av's ugly face stiffened. “You mean to search her papers? John, it's too dangerous! If these pirates caught you—"

"I've got to take the chance,” Thorn rapped. “With the League working against us, there's no time to lose now!"

CHAPTER VIII

Out of the Past

"From Mercury to Pluto,

From Saturn back to mars,

We'll fight and sail and blaze our trail in crimson through the stars.

We'll cram our holds with plunder

From every world and moon,

And thunder back on the homeward track

To feast at old Turkoon!"

That song that was roaring now from hundreds of, lusty throats had been the traditional song of the space pirates for centuries. Every corner of the Solar System had shivered at the sound of it at one time or another. It echoed now in a fierce, swinging chant through the night at Turkoon Town,

The pirates and their women were feasting at rude tables and benches around a huge fire of dry fern-logs that blazed in the center of the street. The tables groaned with enormous masses of food, huge haunches of Jovian marsh-steers, rosy canal-fruit from Mars, sticky confections looted from Neptunian ships. And there were platoons of bottles and bulging casks from every world in the system. Strong drink was going down with the food as the Companions celebrated their partially successful foray.

Above the firelit feasters stretched the night sky of the Zone, the most wonderful in the system, a black canopy gaudy with thousands of blazing stars, with the yellow topaz of Saturn and the far green emeralds of Uranus and Neptune blazing high. Comets moved like mysterious, white ghosts through the jungled heavens, and constantly meteors flashed and ran across the black sky-span.

At one of the tables sat Lana Cain, her smooth hair gleaming like dull gold in the firelight, her hand absently patting the neck of the great gray beast crouched beneath her — Ool, the space dog.

John Thorn sat beside her, his dark face inscrutable and his black eyes watchful. Sual Av was feasting heartily farther down the table, joking and laughing with the other pirate captains, while Gunner Welk ate in brooding silence.

"They are like children, the Companions,” the girl said to Thorn over the din of voices and clatter of bottles. “Already they have forgotten that they nearly met death in that trap today, in their rejoicing over the loot we got."

Thorn shrugged. “I can't say that I blame them. An outlaw has to take his fun when he can — he never knows whether he'll see the next day or not."

Lana's blue eyes, dark in the ruddy firelight, studied Thorn's lean face thoughtfully.

"But you Planeteers are not like most outlaws, John Thorn,” she said. “There is something different about you — something purposeful, I don't know what."

Thorn sensed faint danger, but he smiled as he fingered a goblet of wonderful pink Martian glass.

"The only real purpose we Planeteers have is to hunt excitement, I guess,” he told her. “We've done a lot of damn fool things, without much reason."

"Thorn, why do you not stay here with me, with the Companions?” Lana asked, impulsively grasping his hand. Her blue eyes eager on his, she added earnestly, “I have great plans, and with you Planeteers helping—"

She was interrupted by a sudden uproar in a fierce voice along the table. Thorn jumped up.

Old Stilicho Keene was standing, his rheumy eyes glaring with rage, his thin, bony hands trembling with passion as he faced the obese green Uranian, Jenk Cheerly.

"Say that again,” shrilled the old pirate to the Uranian, “and I'll blow your lying head off your pig's body!"

Jenk Cheerly's small eyes glittered with hate as he rose to face the enraged old Martian.

"I do say it again!” squeaked the obese Uranian. “I say it was your fault that we nearly got trapped by those League cruisers today! You said you spied out the freighters and tankers before they blasted from Jupiter. If you did, you would have been sure to see those tankers were disguised battle-cruisers. So you didn't do it. Or you knew about the trap, and led us right into it!"

Old Stilicho seemed to suffocate with his own passion. His bony figure was quivering, his wrinkled face livid.

"You're accusing me of treachery!” he shrilled. “Me, Stilicho Keene, that's rocketed with the Companions for fifty years! By space, Uranian, no man can—"

The old pirate's clawlike hand was darting toward the atom-pistol at his belt. Jenk Cheerly's fat hand flew toward his own weapon.

But Lana Cain sprang in between them. Her eyes were flaming with wrath.

"If you draw, I'll blast you both down” she flared. “You know our rule — no quarreling among ourselves!"

"But, lass, you heard what he accused me of!” shrilled the old pirate, outraged. “I tell you, when I saw those tankers as they sailed from Jupiter, they were tankers, nothing else."

"Isn't it likely that real tankers did sail with the freighters,” John Thorn said quietly, “to deceive any spies who might be watching them take off, and that the tankers were replaced by the disguised battle-cruisers at some secret rendezvous in space?"

Kinnel King, the handsome middle-aged Earthman captain, nodded quickly. “That must be the explanation."

"That may be so,” grumbled Jenk Cheerly in his squeaky voice, “but I still say there was something queer about it. We should have got all the cargoes of those freighters, instead of just part of them."

Stilicho Keene stiffened again, but Lana hastily intervened to calm the old pirate.

"You've forgotten to initiate the Planeteers into the Companions, Stilicho,” she reminded. “The Eight Goblets!"

The old man's face slowly cleared, and he turned around to Thorn and Sual Av and Gunner Welk.

"That's right,” he cackled. “You boys ain't real pirates till you've drunk the Eight Goblets. Eli, Companions?"

A roaring shout of laughter rose from the fierce-faced corsairs and their women gathered at the firelit tables.

"Yes, the Goblets! The Eight Goblets for the Planeteers!"

"What the devil is this?” growled Gunner Welk suspiciously. “If they try any of their tricks on me—"

Under cover of the roar of laughing voices, Thorn spoke in a rapid, low voice to his two comrades, as they three stood close together behind the tables. They were momentarily unwatched, for all the mirthfully shouting pirates were watching old Stilicho as he supervised the preparations for the coming ceremony.

"I'm going to try my plan of searching Lana's papers tonight!” Thorn told his comrades swiftly. “If she ever wrote down what her father told her about Erebus, she'd surely still have it."

"John, it'll be deadly dangerous!” warned Gunner Welk in a taut undertone. “Remember, someone here knows what we're after."

"Yes, whoever put that Ear in your Pocket must be watching us all the time,” muttered Sual Av.

"I'll never have a better chance than tonight, with everyone present at the feast,” Thorn whispered. “You two stick here — it would awake suspicion if all three of us left."

He stopped whispering abruptly as the roar of laughing voices began to lessen. Old Stilicho had held up a hand to quiet the pirate throng.

"Planeteers,” he shrilled to the three comrades, “you've got a great name in the system, and you showed today you deserve it, for you saved our Lana from that trap when no one else could have done it. We're proud and glad to welcome you three among us. Eh, Companions?"

"Yes!” roared back the pirate feasters with one voice. Lana was sitting again, smiling at Thorn's puzzled face.

"But before you can really be of the Companions,” the old pirate continued in his shrill, cracked voice, you've got to drink the Eight Goblets, in proper order-to show that as a true Companion you defy the governments and navies of all the eight inhabited worlds!"

Three grinning pirates advanced, each carrying a tray on which rested eight small glass goblets filled with various colored liquors.

Sual Av's green eyes widened. “Are we expected to—"

Stilicho Keene cackled. “Yes, lads. You're expected to drink defiance to the eight worlds as we call them off."

Thorn and his two comrades took the little goblets first handed them. They were brimming with colorless rock-liquor, the fiery distillate that is the favorite drink of Mercury.

Stilicho, grinning, raised his bony hand. And from the firelit feasters crashed a mirthful shout.

"Mercury""

The Planeteers tossed off the burning liquor. It seared Thorn's throat, but Gunner Welk smacked his lips.

"Venus!" crashed the shout an instant later.

Down went the little goblets of heady black Venusian swamp-grape wine. And the pirate horde, without giving the Planeteers time to catch breath, called out planet after planet.

A goblet of tingling brown Earth whisky; another of suave, smooth desert-flower cordial from Mars; and a bumper of raw, potent marsh-apple brandy from Jupiter followed each other.

Thorn gasped for air, but neither he nor his comrades hesitated. A goblet of musty-tasting wine from the fungus-fruits of Saturn; another of sour, strong Uranian beer; and finally a last goblet of sweet, cloying Neptunian sacra liqueur.

Thorn's head was spinning as he smashed the last of the eight goblets on the ground. Sual Av was staggering, and even Gunner Welk looked unsteady. Old Stilicho slapped Thorn's back.

"You're true Companions of Space now, Planeteers,” cackled the old pirate, and approving roars went up from the crowd.

Every pirate there knew it was the Planeteers who had saved their idolized girl leader in the fight that day. The heartiness of their lusty welcome was unmistakable.

Thorn fought to keep the liquor from overcoming him, as he went back to his seat beside Lana. His senses were hazed — he was only dimly aware that now wild music was thrumming from stringed instruments somewhere, and that two white-limbed Venusian girls were swaying in a languorous dance near the blazing fire.

Gradually, Thorn felt his senses clear. But he took care to appear still fogged. Now was the time for his attempt!

"I need some air after the Eight Goblets,” he told Lana, keeping his voice thick. “I'm going for a walk."

To his discomfiture, Lana rose from her place and took his arm. “I'll walk with you, John Thorn,” she smiled.

Thorn could not reject her, though inwardly he chafed. They moved away from the firelit feast, the space dog Ool padding silently beside the girl. None of the crowd seemed to notice them leaving, for now a lithe red Martian girl was twisting in a furious desert dance, to the roaring applause of the Companions.

The roar of shouts and laughter and crashing glass behind them faded away as they walked a little down the dark, silent and dusty street of Turkoon Town. The blazing sky above them seemed alive with the long, shining trails of flashing meteors.

Thorn looked down at the girl's gold head. Her starlit white face seemed softer now, with a queer yearning in it as she gazed along the dark street. It all seemed strangely dreamlike to the Earthman — he and the pirate girl and the green-eyed, padding space dog walking together under the meteor-blazoned night sky.

Lana Cain looked up at him and asked the question that she had already voiced earlier that evening.

"Why don't you Planeteers stay here with us,” John Thorn? With you to help, my plans could—"

"Your plans?” he repeated, interrupting. “What do you mean, Lana?"

She stopped and looked up at him. “Do you think that being leader of the pirates is all I want? No, that is only a means to an end. I have a dream, the same dream my father had — a dream of making the Zone a place of orderly life and happy cities, instead of just a wild, lawless jungle."

Her words came with an eager rush. “There are hundreds of asteroids in the Zone that are habitable, or could be made habitable. A whole new world, that could be independent and self-sufficient, and could be a refuge for oppressed people from all parts of the system, people fleeing from tyranny and injustice."

Lana's voice throbbed with earnestness. “My father worked with that dream in mind, organized the scattered bands of pirates and made them temper their bloodthirsty ways. I've worked toward that goal, too. And now, when the League of Colorsis about to attack the Inner Alliance, the chance is, coming to make that dream come true. For with interplanetary war going on, we could organize our new world in’ the Zone without interference. And millions of people may want a safe refuge."

Thorn was impressed by the girl's sincerity and breadth of ambition.

"But, Lana, are all the eight worlds as bad as you seem to think?” he said slowly. “It's true the four worlds of the League are crushed under the fanatical tyranny of Haskell Trask, their dictator, but what about Earth and the other three inner worlds? They have no tyranny or oppression."

"They have black injustice that is as bad as tyranny,” answered Lana, her starlit face hardening. “Look at what they did to my father!"

Thorn saw that he could not change her bitter obsession on that subject. He shook his head.

"Perhaps you're right,” he said. And he added thoughtfully, “I was wondering why a girl like you was content to live as leader of these wild pirates. But I understand, now that you've told me of your scheme."

"And you'll help me make that dream come true, John Thorn? You Planeteers will, stay?” Lana asked eagerly. She added earnestly, “You're the first one I've ever told of my plan."

Thorn was touched. “I'll have to talk to Sual Av and Gunner Welk before I can promise to stay,” he evaded.

He put his hand to his head, and winced. “I'm not feeling so good yet, after those Eight Goblets. I think I'll pass up the rest of the feast, and sleep it off."

"You're not ill?” Lana asked anxiously. “If you are—"

She was gazing up at him, her dark eyes wide with worry in her starlit face, her hand on his shoulder.

Thorn felt a sudden strong impulse to kiss her. He mastered himself, but he suspected that his feelings had shown in his face, for Lana's expression changed.

"I–I must go back to the feast,” she said, with an unaccustomed shyness. “If I am not there, they will be quarreling. I will see you in the morning."

He watched her move back down the dark street toward the firelit feast, the space dog silently accompanying her. Then Thorn turned and walked with assumed unsteadiness to his cabin. But instead of entering the cabin, he slipped. around it, and then hastened along the back of the street toward the Council House.

The long, low metal building was dark and silent. Thorn listened outside a back door, then pushed stealthily inside. The dull red ray of his pocket fluoric flash-lamp lighted him through store-rooms and a kitchen. The place was deserted.

He found Lana's bedroom quickly. It was a bare chamber with a chromaloy cot and chest, and a rack of atom-pistols on the wall. There was a closet, to which Thorn went first. In it hung a dozen suits of the mannish silk jackets and trousers the pirate girl always wore. But in the back of the closet, Thorn found a single gaily-flowered flowing tunic-dress of the type worn by Earth women to social functions.

A queer wave of tenderness swept him as he touched the gay, flowered dress. It was obviously unworn. He could picture Lana taking it secretly from pirate loot, trying it on—

"Hell, am I going soft on the girl?” John Thorn muttered to himself. “I'm wasting time!"

He searched through the big chest. In it he found a flat viridiurn box that was packed with papers.

Thorn's pulses raced as he hastily started scanning the papers by his little ray of dull red light. The first he unfolded was a parchment document, discolored with age. It was a captain's commission in the Earth Navy, dated over forty years before, made out to Martin Cain. Across it was stamped “CANCELLED."

Most of the other papers were old letters of Lana's father. They told nothing. Then Thorn muttered an exclamation as he took out of the box a thick log-book, bound in marsh-calf skin, and filled with the square, precise writing of Martin Cain.

Swiftly Thorn riffled the pages until he found the year he was looking for. With taut eagerness he read the entries.

9-27. (Off Pluto.) It looks as though our raid on the Pluto mining bases with a single ship was too daring. We are being hotly pursued by Neptunian cruisers, and can hear the audio-calls of others.

9-28. Fear net is closing in on us. Space alive with audio calls.

9-29. I, Martin Cain, am sole survivor of my ship's company. We were trapped and attacked at 7:Z2, sun-time, by eight Neptunian cruisers. We got two, but the rest gunned us till our power-chambers exploded and tore our ship apart. I was flung clear, and found one of our lifeboats that also had been thrown clear. Got away in it unnoticed. But am far outside Pluto's orbit, where they had chased us. Dare not go back to Pluto, and have not half enough fuel to take me to Saturn, the next nearest world sunward.

I am taking a desperate chance-am heading outward, toward Erebus. I know no one has ever yet visited that world and returned, but my last chance is to get fuel-ores there, for it is far nearer than Saturn. I greatly fear that I shall never get back to the Zone to see my little girl and my wife again.

Thorn turned to the next entry, his pulse pounding with excitement. But the next entry was dated weeks later.

12-7. Back to the Zone again, thank God, I shall never go beyond Pluto's orbit again.

Thorn desperately ran through the following pages. But there was no mention whatever in them of Erebus.

Why had not Martin Cain made one entry about his visit to Erebus? What was there on that far, dark, mysterious planet that Cain had so carefully kept secret?

"'Raise your hands, John Thorn!"

Thorn turned, appalled. Lights had flashed on in the little room. Standing in the doorway were two men.

They were Jenk Cheerly, the fat Uranian, and the Earthman, Kinnel King. They were covering him with atom-pistols, and their faces were deadly.

CHAPTER IX

Imprisoned Planeteers

Thorn rose slowly to his feet, keeping his hands raised. A wrong movement, he knew, would mean instant death. Inwardly he was bitterly reproaching himself for letting himself be surprised.

"So, Planeteer,” said Kinnel King in a deadly low tone, “you and your comrades seem to be traitors. Less than an hour after you've been initiated into the Companions, we find you here rifling Lana's secrets."

"Didn't I tell you, Kinnel?” squeaked Jenk Cheerly, the fat Uranian's little eyes glittering with beady triumph. “Didn't I tell you this Thorn was up to something when he slipped away from the. feast, and that we ought to follow him?"

"Take his atom-pistol, Jenk,” ordered Kinnel King without removing his eyes from Thorn. “Then go and get Lana and the others-and make sure you get the other two Planeteers!"

Jenk Cheerly lifted the weapon from Thorn's belt, and then the obese Uranian waddled hastily out of the room. Thorn stood, his hands still raised, facing the other Earthman.

Kinnel King's middle-aged, handsome face was dark with loathing, and there was a deadly expression in his brooding eyes as he watched the Planeteer.

"King, listen to me!” John Thorn said desperately. “You're an Earthman, and I—"

"Be silent!” Kinnel King hissed, his eyes narrowing to pinpoints. “I'll blast you where you stand, traitor."

In heavy silence, Thorn waited. He knew there was not the slightest chance for him to make a break under the muzzle of the other's weapon. To do so would be merely to commit suicide without gaining anything.

Presently there was a rapid tramp of many feet, an excited babel of voices entering the Council House. Into the lighted rooms came Lana Cain, and with her were old Stilicho, Brun Abe, the Jovian captain, and the waddling, gloating green-faced Uranian, Jenk Cheerly.

With them came four pirates who held atom-pistols against the backs of Gunner Welk and Sual Av. Gunner's clothing was torn, his temple bleeding from a wound, his cold blue eyes like icy flames. Sual Av's ugly face was taut and watchful.

"They'd never have got us, John,” rumbled the big Mercurian as they entered, “if they hadn't jumped us from behind."

"It's all my fault,” Thorn said bitterly.

Lana Cain was looking at Thorn. The girl's face was white and stunned, her blue eyes wide and unbelieving. Then as her gaze swung from Thorn's face to the rifled papers on the floor, her expression changed to one of flaming wrath.

"It's true, then,” she whispered throbbingly to Thorn. “You are a traitor to the Companions, a paltry thief trying to steal my secrets. And I know. what you were after!” she flared. “The secret of Erebus. Because I wouldn't tell it to you, you slipped in here, trying to steal it."

"Lana, listen—” Thorn began with desperate earnestness.

Lana cut him off with a stinging slap across the face. The space dog Ool jumped forward, great eyes blazing.

"All the time you were listening to my plans, pretending sympathy, you were only thinking of how you could get that secret from me!” flamed Lana. “I wouldn't tell it to you, because I didn't want you or anybody else to go to that terrible world. I almost wish now that I'd told you, that I'd let you go blundering out to Erebus to meet the horrible fate you'd meet there!"

"What are we waiting for? Why don't we blast these dogs down now?” demanded Brun Abo, the scarred-faced Jovian.

A fierce growl of approval of the suggestion went up from the other pirate captains. Even old Stilicho Keene was looking at Thorn and his two comrades with accusation in his face.

"Boy, I never thought you Planeteers would do a thing like this,” said the old pirate dismally.

Thorn was thinking with desperate rapidity. Should he tell Lana the truth, that they Planeteers were, agents of Earth who only sought the Erebus secret to get the radite that would save the Alliance?

He saw that it would gain nothing to tell. It would make no difference to the girl, who was so bitter against Earth she would do nothing to help that world. And it would give away the great secret that the Alliance had a weapon with which it might be able to resist the League attack.

"Lana, listen to me,” Thorn said rapidly. “I'm not denying that we Planeteers came here seeking the secret of Erebus. We have a vital reason for wanting it, and when you wouldn't tell it, I had to try to steal it. I admit all that.

"But I want to warn you that there's someone else here, someone right here in this room now, if I'm right, who means to get that secret and use it to take millions of lives. You can save all those lives by giving us the secret and letting us go!"

"You pile one lie on another!” blazed Lana. “You try to cover your own guilt by accusing innocent men!"

"Let's take them out and blast them down now!” cried Brun Abo,

"It's the penalty for treachery among the Companions,” old Stilicho said miserably. “I guess we got to do it."

Lana Cain paled a little. She shook her head.

"No, we'll not kill them now,” she said. “Put them in the brig until morning."

"And why shouldn't we kill them now?” demanded Brun Abo of her. “Is it possible you've a tenderness for this Thorn?"

The girl turned on the Jovian, as though stung,

"I've only hate for such treacherous liars!” she flared. “But we're going to execute them, not murder them. In the morning is soon enough."

Surprisingly, Jenk Cheerly supported her.

"Lana's right,” the Uranian squeaked and the girl glanced gratefully at him.

Thorn tried to speak again, but Brun Abo snarled an order, and the four pirates covering the Planeteers forced the three comrades to march out of the Council House into the night.

The brig, as the pirates called their prison, was a small, square, metal structure behind the main street of Turkoon Town. It had but one room, into whose dark interior they were rudely thrust. The heavy metal door slammed, and the wave-lock clicked.

"Make the best of your time till morning, Planeteers,” rasped Brun Abo as he and his men left.

"John, they didn't leave any guards outside,” said Sual Av quickly in the darkness. “Maybe we can get out."

They rapidly inspected their prison. But Thorn found that there was no chance whatever of escape from it.

The building was wholly constructed of inertrum, most intractable of metals. The two tiny, barred windows were mere loopholes, and the wave-lock of the door could only be operated by the secret frequencies of its wave-key applied from the outside.

"There's no getting out of here," grunted Gunner Welk. “Damn that fat Jenk Cheerly! It was he who suspected you were up to something, John, and followed you with Kinnel King—"

"Either Cheerly or Brun Abo must be the League spy here!” Sual Av declared tensely. “And it looks to me as though Cheerly is the man. He only joined the pirates recently, and it was he who tipped them off about the Jovian freighters, the League trap that, nearly succeeded in capturing Lana."

"What the devil are we going to do?” demanded the big Mercurian. “We can't break out of this place and we're due to be blasted at dawn."

"There's only one chance left us,” Thorn rapped. “When they take us out in the morning, we'll make a break and try to seize Lana. I don't think the pirates would take a chance of hurting her by firing at us then. We might get away with her."

Gunner Welk's rumbling voice came slowly, “But the girl might get hurt in the fight, John. I thought you were sort of in love with her."

"Yes,” added Sual Av. “and it looked to me as though she was beginning to feel the same way about you."

"Are you two space-struck to say such things?” Thorn demanded fiercely. “Me, in love with that wild pirate girl?"

Then his voice wavered a little. “Even if I did love her, I'd have to forget it. For we have to get that secret out of her somehow, if the Alliance is to have a chance. That is bigger and more important than everybody in the entire zone."

"All right, we'll try it,” rumbled Gunner Welk. “It looks like our last bet."

* * *

Presently Gunner Welk and Sual Av were sleeping on the floor calmly oblivious to whatever fate the dawn might bring.

But John Thorn could not sleep. Restlessly, he paced the darkness of the little metal room. In his mind queerly persisted the image of Lana's white, stunned face and accusing eyes. He tried to drive that reproachful face from his thoughts and couldn't.

White mists from the jungles had seeped into Turkoon Town as the night advanced, a cold fog that nipped the bones.

A little wind moaned through the dark, sleeping pirate stronghold, and at intervals came raucous calls of weird life teeming in the fern-forest.

Thorn heard a ship blasting off from the distant field, the thudding thunder of its tubes rapidly dying away. He wondered broodingly if ever he and his two comrades would see space again.

Or was the coming dawn to end forever the career of the Planeteers?

Hours dragged past, and finally a faint dawn light began to illumine the swirling gray mists outside. Suddenly through the fog came a wild, distant cry. It was echoed in a minute by raw shouts in other voices.

Thorn leaped to the little window, but could see nothing through the mists. He heard his comrades scrambling up,

"What's happened?” exclaimed Sual Av, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"I don't know!” Thorn cried. “But something's wrong."

He could hear a babel of raging shouts and calls crackling like flame through Turkoon Town, waking everyone. And men were running through the clearing mists toward the field of ships.

"Stilicho!” yelled Thorn through the window as he glimpsed the old Martian pirate running painfully along the street.

The old man hesitated, then hobbled quickly over to the window of the little prison. He was buckling on his atom-pistols with trembling hands, and his wrinkled face was wild.

"What's happened?” Thorn demanded tensely.

"Lana — she's been kidnapped!” hissed the old Martian. “Jenk Cheerly did it some time last night."

"Lana kidnapped?” Thorn yelled wildly, his brown face suddenly haggard. “How do you know Cheerly did?"

"This morning one of our men found our guards at the ship-field lying murdered!” babbled the raging old man. “And one of Cheerly's Uranian crew, too, fatally wounded and left for dead. The Uranian boasted about what Cheerly had done, before he died.

"He said that Cheerly was not any pirate at all, like he pretended, but a League spy — the head of Haskell Trask's secret service! He said Cheerly had planned the trap that nearly captured Lana in the attack on them freighters, and that when that failed, Cheerly had used another plan to kidnap Lana last night. He used you in his plan, John Thorn!"

"Cheerly used me to kidnap Lana?” Thorn gasped. “My God, man, what are you talking about?"

"Lana's soft on you,” spat old Stilicho. “She didn't want to see you blasted this morning, and Cheerly knew it. So, according to that dying Uranian, Cheerly told Lana that he'd help you Planeteers escape if she released you. He got Lana to start secretly with him to this brig to let you out, and once he had her alone like that, he and his men grabbed her. They blasted down the field-guards and took her in his ship. He's taking her to Saturn!"

The raging old pirate turned from the window. “We're going to follow Cheerly's ship. And God help that Uranian when we catch up with him!"

"Stilicho, wait—” Thorn cried wildly, but the old pirate was already hobbling urgently away in the mists.,

A few moments later came the thunderous roar of many ships taking off in the distance. As it died away, Thorn turned to his comrades, his face stricken.

"She was going to help us escape,” he said in a slow, choked voice. “Even after I'd tried to steal her secret, she was going to help us get away. And because of that, she's in the hands of Haskell Trask's spymaster now!"

His eyes were wild. “Think of what Trask and that fat fiend Cheerly will do to her to wring the secret out of her! And all because of me. She'd never have been kidnapped if she hadn't tried to help me!"

"It's not your fault, John,” rumbled Gunner Welk, his hard face showing his emotion. “Cheerly would have found one way or another to get hold of her, even if we'd never come here."

"And Stilicho and Kinnel King and all the rest of those pirates are trailing him now,” Sual Av added quickly. “They'll catch him and bring the girl back all right."

"I hope to heaven they do,” muttered the big Mercurian. “For if they fail, and Cheerly gets that girl to Saturn, it means that the League, and not the Alliance, will get that radite from Erebus."

Thorn started violently. For the moment, in his first wild concern for Lana's safety, he had forgotten the larger issue.

"The last hope of the Alliance is gone if that happens!” he exclaimed. His fists clenched convulsively. “And we're locked up here! Isn't there something we can do?"

"Nothing but wait,” answered Gunner heavily.

* * *

The long hours of that day were a torture infinitely prolonged to John Thorn. Pacing the little room, peering tensely from the window, he waited in terrible suspense.

They were not brought any food or water. They had been completely forgotten for the time being in the greater catastrophe. They could see the street of Turkoon Town thronged with excited pirate women and men who had been left behind by the hasty expedition that had thundered forth in chase of Jenk Cheerly.

Night came, and more hours dragged past. Then from the distance came the thudding thunder of many ships landing.

"They're back!” Thorn cried tautly. “But did they rescue Lana?"

"We'll soon know,” muttered Sual Av.

They heard the pirate crews and captains trooping back into town, heard a loud uproar of voices. They waited tensely.

Then a thin, snow-haired figure approached their window in the starlight. It was old Stilicho, Keene, moving slowly.

"Did you bring Lana back?” Thorn cried.

The old man's cracked voice was unsteady and choking with emotion as, he answered.

"No, we didn't.” His accents became shrill and wild. “We were only a few hours behind Cheerly's ship. We could see it in our ‘scopes and were sure to overtake him. And then he was joined by a force of fifty League cruisers, as an escort.

"He must have had secret arrangements with them cruisers to be waiting for him, damn him!” Stilicho continued. “We only had twenty ships. I wanted to keep after them anyway, and fight it out, but Brun Abo and the rest said it would be suicide."

Stilicho's old voice broke. “I guess they were right, maybe. Getting ourselves all killed wouldn't have saved Lana. Nothing can save her now — and I don't want to live any more, with the lass gone."

Tremulous tears were glistening on the old Martian's starlit face. He wiped them with a quivering hand.

Thorn felt a cold, ghastly shock from what he had heard. Blind emotion surged in him. And then the instinct to fight back, to persevere, rose to dominate him.

"Are you going to give up Lana for dead?” he demanded fiercely of the old man outside. “Are you just going weep like a woman for her, or are you going to do something?"

"What can I do?” Stilicho quavered. “I'd give my life for the lass, but there's nobody can save her now. She's in Haskell Trask's dungeons on Saturn, by now, and a thousand men couldn't get her out of there."

"A thousand men. Might not, but three men could!” Thorn flashed fiercely. “We three — we Planeteers!"

Stilicho stared hopelessly. “How could even you Planeteers hope to snatch her from the claws of Haskell Trask?"

"We've done things as seemingly impossible as that in the past, haven't we?” Thorn demanded. “Give us the chance, Stilicho, and we'll get her out of there or die trying!"

The old Martian's eyes widened. “If anybody could do it, you Planeteers could,” he muttered. He stared doubtfully at Thorn's starlit face. “But you Planeteers are only after the secret Lana knows, the same as Cheerly."

"We want that secret, yes,” Thorn said tensely. “But the only way we can hope to get it is by rescuing Lana! Can't you see that? I'm hoping that if we save her, she'll tell us the secret. But whether she does or not, she'll have been saved, and that's all that you care for!"

And as Stilicho still hesitated, Thorn hissed a grim reminder.

"Think what Cheerly will do to Lana to wring the secret from her! Haskell Trask isn't above torture!"

The old man's figure quivered at that.

"She'll never tell them,” he muttered, “even though they kill her. I know Lana."

Then the old pirate stiffened with decision, and he spoke rapidly to the tensely waiting three.

"I'm going to take the chance you Planeteers can save her. It looks like the only chance the lass has got. I'm going to release you, and we'll head out in my ship for Saturn, before Brun Abo and the rest find out what I've done."

"Will the crew of your ship follow you?” Thorn asked quickly, his pulses pounding with excitement and hope.

"Hell, they'd sail straight into the sun if I laid the course!” exclaimed the old pirate. His cracked voice throbbed with eagerness as he continued. “I'll have to steal the wave key of this brig from the Council House to let you out. And I'll pass a whisper to my crew to gather in the Venture at once."

The old Martian hastened away through the starlight. John Thorn swung round to his comrades.

"It's a fighting chance we've got now, at least!” he exclaimed.

"A pretty slim one,” said Gunner Welk somberly. “How in hell's name are we to get that girl away from Saturn in the teeth of all the League forces? An army couldn't do it."

"We'll have to do what an army couldn't, then,” Thorn said grimly. “There must be some way."

Presently they glimpsed Stilicho Keene hastening back to their prison. At the old Martian's heels followed a great, gray shape with blazing green eyes, Lana's space dog, Ool.

Stilicho turned the wave-key's beam on the lock. The frequencies actuated the delicate mechanism, and the door opened.

"I had a time stealing the wave-key!” panted the old man as Thorn and his comrades emerged. “Brun Abo and the rest are up in the Council House. As soon as they remember you three, they'll be here to have you executed."

"Why did you bring the space dog?” Gunner asked.

"I didn't bring him — he followed me,” Stilicho said. “He's been wild since Lana was kidnapped, and I think he senses we're going after her. The critters are a little telepathic, you know."

"Let him come along. We don't want to arouse any commotion,” Thorn said swiftly. “Is your crew waiting at the ship?"

"All ready, by now,” the old pirate replied. “Follow me. We'll have to slip out to the field without being seen."

He led the Planeteers through the starlight, close against the towering, dark wall of fern-jungle that encircled Turkoon Town. By that circuitous route they reached the field where the massed pirate ships lay glinting under the meteor-blazoned sky, The big space dog padded beside them as they approached the Venture.

They climbed hastily into the long black ship, the animal following them. Stilicho's motley crew were waiting. The doors were already grinding shut as the Planeteers followed the old pirate up to the control-room.

A few moments later, with a thunderous blast of fire, the Venture shot skyward on its desperate mission.

CHAPTER X

Under Saturn's Rings

A HARP-STRING tenseness gripped the four men in the Ven ture's control-room as they peered ahead into space.

"So far, so good,” muttered old Stilicho Keene, leaning forward over the bank of firing-keys to gaze with faded eyes. “We're past the outer League patrols. Now if we can only slip through the inner."

"We're in their zone now,” John Thorn warned tautly. “See anything in the ‘scope, Gunner?"

"Not yet,” the big Mercurian rumbled without taking his eyes from the eyepiece.

The Venture moved steadily on through the void, its rockets cut down to a low, soft purr. The aura-chart was dead. They were running blind so their own aura would not cut the aura of any vigilant patrol cruiser and give them away unnecessarily.

Saturn bulked colossal in the star-gemmed vault ahead, an enormous, yellowish sphere encircled by its immense, sweeping white rings. Even from this distance of a few million miles, the mighty rings looked quite solid. The thin black gap between the two outermost rings, Cassini's division, stood out sharp and clear. It was hard to realize that those great, solid seeming white bands were really vast swarms of tiny satellites circling the planet.

Out beyond even the huge rings marched the planet's nine brilliant moons. Titan was a bright little disk far on the other side of the spinning monster world. Tethys and Rhea shone to the left. And Iapetus, a bright white moon almost as large as Mercury, lay close ahead on the right.

"The Saturnian Navy has a big outer base on Iapetus,” warned Thorn. “It'll be alive with cruisers now that the navies of all four League planets are concentrated here."

"I know, but we got to run close to Iapetus if we're going to slip around to the night side of Saturn,” quavered the old Martian pirate.

"Keep at least two million miles out, to clear the auras of the base,” Thorn told him.

The Venture purred on, and the big white moon began to march slowly past on their right. The Planeteers and the old pirate were silent and strained.

Sual Av scratched his head irritably. “Curse me if I can get used to this wig,” he muttered.

The Venusian's appearance was curiously changed. His bald pate had been covered by a wig of short, coarse black hair, and his face and skin had been stained pale green. John Thorn and Gunner Welk were similarly transformed. Their faces too were now a livid green, and the Mercurian's bristling yellow hair was dyed black.

The people of Saturn, and also of Uranus and Neptune, had acquired their peculiar green complexion during the past thousand years. Their worlds, like all the others in the system, had first been colonized by pioneering Earthmen in the 21st century, though a few centuries later all those seven colonized worlds had seceded from Earth and become independent planets. In the generations since the first colonization, environment had gradually changed the original Earth stock.

The men of Jupiter had grown into a squat, great-boned race, because of the dragging gravitation of their world. The men of Mars had acquired their red skin because of the predominance of certain metallic elements in their air and food. And similarly, the men of Saturn and Uranus and Neptune, because of a lack of certain elements on their worlds, had acquired their characteristic jaundiced green complexion.

Thorn and his two comrades had realized that disguise was vitally necessary for their daring venture on Saturn. So, during the days that the Venture had hurtled at top speed toward the far ringed world, the Planeteers had worked to make themselves look as much as possible like Saturnians.

Now the Venture was well past, Iapetus, and swinging around to the night side of Saturn in a great parabola.

"Shall we pass under the rings?” asked the old Martian pirate, turning from, the firing-keys.

Thorn nodded. “It'll keep us in shadow by going under them. Better cling close beneath them"

Saturn filled all space before them now, looming colossal in the firmament with the tilted plane of its outer gigantic ring shadowing above them as their ship shot through it. The ring, more than thirty thousand miles in width, was brightly sunlit on its upper side because of the tilt of its plane, but here beneath it they were in shadow.

Space above them was now roofed as far as the eye could stretch by the white, gleaming, concentric rings. At this close distance they could clearly see the millions of separate satellites that made up the rings, vast circular swarms of tiny planetoids endlessly whirling. Then they were in past the rings, and only six thousand miles from the nighted surface of Saturn.

Stilicho Keene pointed a bony finger toward a misty glow of lights that lay slightly north of the equator.

"Them's the lights of Saturnopolis,” the old pirate declared.

"Run westward,” John Thorn ordered. “The fungus forests are in that direction, and if we three are to pose as slith-hunters, that's where we need to land."

The first Planeteer watched with emotion as the distant lights of Saturnopolis slid away to the left. Down there in the great capital city of Saturn, somewhere, was Lana Cain. She would likely be imprisoned in the citadel of Haskell Trask, dictator of the League — the big fortress-palace that was the very storm center of the gathering menace threatening the four inner worlds.

Thorn had had the girl in his mind every hour of the long flight out to Saturn. Again and again he had envisioned her eager white face as she had stood with him under the meteor-blazing night sky of Turkoon, telling him her dreams for the future. She had become much more to’ him, he realized deeply, than just the pirate girl who held the secret he must obtain.

The lights of Saturnopolis disappeared as the Venture throbbed westward through the night. They glimpsed the lights of another, smaller city far to the north. Then Stilicho sent the ship in a long, descending glide toward the far-stretching black wilderness that now lay beneath.

Air whistled thinly outside the walls. The ship dropped into thin mists. Then through the mists the surface rushed up toward them — a vast and endless forest of grotesque, towering growth, dimly lit by the radiance of three moons and the majestic arc of the ring.

With a prolonged flash from the keel tubes and a soft, bumping jar, the Venture landed. They were in silent darkness.

"Here's the fungus forest you wanted to be landed in,” said Stilicho doubtfully. “It's a long way from here to Saturnopolis, though."

"We'll get there,” Thorn told him grimly. “It would be inviting capture to land too near the capital. By landing here and working our way toward Saturnopolis as slith-hunters, we'll be much less likely to be suspected by the secret police."

* * *

Gunner Welk and Sual Av were gathering the atom-guns and other equipment they were to take with them. The Planeteers had already changed into jackets and boots of soft Jovian leather.

"You're sure you understand where you're to wait for us with the Venture?" Thorn asked the old pirate.

Stilicho's white head bobbed. “Out in the ring, in Cassini's division just at the west limb of the planet-shadow. We'll lie there in the ship till you come. But how will you get out there?"

"If we get Lana out safely,” Thorn clipped, “we'll steal a small ship somehow and get there."

They went down to the ship door. It had been opened and the frigid, misty air of Saturn, faintly tainted with ammonia, was pouring into the ship. The motley crew was silently watching as the Planeteers prepared to disembark. And Ool, the big gray space dog, pressed against Thorn's legs and looked up at him with great green eyes that held an almost human expression of anxiety.

"Ool wants to go with you,” said Stilicho. “He senses you're going after Lana."

"We daren't take him — it'd arouse too much attention for poor slith-hunters to own such a rare beast. You hold him, Stilicho,” Thorn said.

"Won't you change your mind and let me go along with you?” asked the old Martian pleadingly.

"We've argued that out,” Thorn reminded him. “One of us four has got to keep the ship waiting at the rendezvous in the ring, and that's the way in which you can best help us."

Stilicho, holding the space dog's neck, reached up to grip Thorn's hand with bony fingers. His cracked voice quavered.

"Good luck, boy — and God grant you bring the lass out safely."

The door ground shut. With a resounding reverberation of blazing keel-tubes, the Venture blasted off.

The Planeteers stood silent in the frigid misty darkness, watching the ship disappear into the sky.

"So we're on our own now,” rumbled Gunner Welk. “And all we have to do is make our way into Saturnopolis through ten thousand secret police who are watching for spies, break into Haskell Trask's citadel that even Saturnians don't dare go near, and steal away the dictator's most important prisoner right from under his nose. It's almost too easy!"

"I hate to see you grow sarcastic, Gunner,” said Sual Av worriedly. “It's the mark of a small mind."

The Venusian dodged, chuckling, as the towering Mercurian aimed a bear-like blow at him.

"Be quiet!” snapped John Thorn tautly. “I hear someone or something."

The other two Planeteers were instantly silent, all three gripping their heavy atom-guns and listening intently.

The great fungus forest that covered much of Saturn stretched about them in the cold mist, illuminated by the combined ring-light and moonlight. All around the little clearing in which they stood towered the enormous fungi, huge gray growths in the form of bulbous spheres, drawing their sustenance by parasitism from the thick mat of spongy mosses underfoot.

Nothing appeared stirring except a few “diggers" — furry little beasts with flat, spade-like noses, whose red eyes fearfully watched from tunnel-mouths nearby. The only sounds were the occasional zooming drone of pinkly luminous “fire bats” winging through the towering fungi, and the long, distant ululation of a pack of “climbers."

The sky over the Planeteers’ heads was weirdly magnificent — dominated by the colossal arc of the rings that spanned the heavens just south of the zenith like a huge, shining, white rainbow. Out beyond the rings shone the bright shield of Titan, sinking rapidly toward the horizon while Tethys and Rhea rose like twin jewels among the stars.

"I don't hear anything,” muttered Sual Av finally. “But the noise of the ship landing may have attracted—"

"John, look out!” yelled Gunner Welk suddenly. “A slith!"

One of the smaller bulbous gray fungi of the forest had suddenly begun to move. It came toward them with rocket-speed, a charge almost faster than the eye could follow.

Thorn knew it was slith as he flung his atom-gun to his shoulder. That creature alone could so perfectly mimic the gray fungi by means of its protective coloration,

Thorn glimpsed the charging thing over the sights of his weapon for an instant, a bulbous. oily gray monster ten feet high, its dumpy, shapeless body running with incredible swiftness on thick little legs, the two cold, bright eyes in the front of its faceless body flaming as its white-fanged mouth gaped unbelievably wide.

He fired and missed. His shell exploded blindingly just behind the charging slith. Gunner fired an instant later, and his atom-shell hit the creature's side. When the flare of the shell vanished, they saw the great gray mass lying unstirring only a dozen feet from them.

"We let that thing catch us napping!” Thorn said harshly. “We should have remembered this forest is alive with sliths."

"You're right about that!” yelled Sual Av. “There's another of them!"

The Venusian's gun fairly leaped to his shoulder. But instead of firing, he stared stupefiedly.

"Devils of space, look at it! The thing's coming apart!"

The second slith that Sual Av had glimpsed was a hundred yards away among the fungi. It was an even bigger creature than the first, and its treat gray mass was grotesquely different in shape, consisting of a large mass with the cold, bright eyes and wide, lipless mouth, and a smaller attached mass with eyes and mouth also.

The smaller mass was detaching itself from the main body of the creature. Soft gray flesh stretched and snapped. And instead of one slith, there stood two, a large one and a little one. A moment later, both of them charged toward the Planeteers.

The shells of three atom-guns exploded together around the onrushing monsters. Both lay dead when the flares died.

"Am I seeing things or did that creature really divide into two?” demanded the Venusian.

"Planetary zoology must be a closed book to you,” Gunner Welk told him dourly. “If you knew any, you'd know that the aboriginal animal life of Saturn is asexual, and propagates by fission."

"Come on, we'll get the teeth out of these carcasses,” Thorn said. “It's lucky we've killed a few, for slith hunters going back to town without any teeth might arouse suspicion."

They advanced to the torn dead bodies, feeling with this first locomotion the powerful drag of Saturnian gravitation. Only the fact that that gravitation was partly neutralized by the centrifugal force of the planet's rapid spin made it tolerable to men. The space-trained muscles of the Planeteers quickly began to adjust themselves to the greater load, though they felt very slow and heavy.

With their keen knives of Earth steelite they hacked and slashed at the repulsive bodies of the sliths, dig ging the huge white fangs out. Those teeth, the hardest and most perdurable organic substance in the system, were in high demand on all worlds for carving into jewelry and for certain industrial processes. The system wide demand for them was responsible for the fact that slith-hunting was a profession on this world.

Dawn was rapidly filtering through the mists about them. The brief five hour night of Saturn was ending.

"Curse these cold fogs!” muttered Sual Av, his teeth chattering as he worked. “I wouldn't trade one hot, steamy swamp of Venus for all these outer worlds."

"If you liked that mud-puddle native world of yours so much, why did you leave it?” demanded Gunner.

They had the last of the teeth out, and were putting them into the pouches at their belts, when Thorn suddenly sprang to his feet, gripping his heavy atom-gun.

"Stand by, boys, and don't show any excitement,” he said in a low, rapid voice.

Through the chill, dawn-lit mists of the fungus forest toward the three comrades were coming a dozen green-faced Saturnians, all heavily armed.

CHAPTER XI

Secret Police

John Thorn perceived that the approaching Saturnians were slith-hunters. They were a rough-looking crew, wearing stained leather and carrying heavy atom-guns. In their lead was a hulking man of middle age who hailed the Planeteers in a bull voice.

"What luck, friends?” he called jovially. “I see you've got a few sliths, at least."

"A few is right,” John Thorn answered ruefully. “We've been roaming the fungi for days, and these are the first teeth we've got."

Thorn was careful to speak with the heavy Saturnian accent. The language of all the system's peoples is the same, since all are descended from the original colonizing Earth stock. But each world has developed its characteristic accent.

Sual Av and Gunner Welk had risen to their feet. They stood, casually wiping the gray blood of the slain sliths from their leather jackets as the Saturnians came up.

"I'm Kribo,” announced the hulking leader of the newcomers in his bull voice. “I thought I knew all the hunters in these parts, but you lads are new."

Thorn nodded. “We came down here from Karies, figuring the hunting might be better here. Instead, it's worse."

Kribo nodded his big head in emphatic agreement. “Aye, it's getting so a hunter can't make a living in these parts,” he boomed. “Too near Saturnopolis, I guess."

He slapped a bulging pouch at his belt. “Anyway, we've made a fair haul of teeth and we're on our way back to Saturnopolis. Wanta lift in our rocket-plane?"

John Thorn's pulses leaped at the offer. Here was a quick way to get into the Saturnian capital in company that would nullify, suspicion. But he frowned doubtfully, and looked questioningly at the other two Planeteers beside him.

"What about it?” he asked them. “Shall we pull out of these forests with what few teeth we have?"

"I say yes,” growled Gunner Welk disgustedly, in Saturnian accents. “This section isn't as good hunting as where we came from."

Sual Av nodded his agreement. “I want to see a few lights and get a few drinks, after two weeks like we've had."

"Ho, ho!” guffawed the hulking Kribo. “Don't be so down-hearted about your bad luck, lads. It'll change soon, sure."

The disguised Planeteers trudged through the towering fungi with their new-found friends. Thorn and his two comrades had to exert all their strength to keep from showing the dragging, leaden effect of the Saturnian gravitation upon them.

The wan, sickly day of Saturn had come. The little, far-off disk of the sun was rising rapidly to cast its thin, feeble rays upon the looming gray fungi and spongy gray mosses. Across the dusky sky, the incredible arc of the rings soared stupendously. The usual cold morning rain was dripping from the mists by the time they reached the rocket-plane.

Kribo's vehicle proved an ancient, battered one whose glassite windows were cracked and whose inertrum power-chamber had been strained, and crudely reinforced with chromaloy bands.

As they piled into the tubular body, Thorn hoped fervently that that power-chamber would not choose to let go at this particular time.

Kribo started the antique machine, and it lurched crazily up from the fungus forest into the rainy mists. The Saturnian turned to Thorn with a large, ostentatious air.

"I suppose you're wondering where a slith-hunter got money enough to buy a fine rocket-plane like this,” he boomed to Thorn over the irregular roar of defective tubes. “The fact is that me and my boys here own it together."

"It's a fine machine,” Thorn said admiringly. “I always hoped to own one. But times are hard for a hunter."

"Aye, and getting harder,” growled the hulking Saturnian. “Since this war-scare cut off all trade with the inner worlds, the price of teeth has gone down almost to nothing. When the war really starts, our market will be gone altogether."

A youthful Saturnian behind them spoke up, his face flushed with patriotic ardor.

"You forget, Kribe, that once we have conquered the Inner Alliance and have access to the rich resources of those worlds, we'll all be prosperous. The Chairman has said so, hasn't he? And the Chairman is always right."

"Oh, sure, the Chairman is always right,” hastily boomed Kribo, with a doubtful glance at the Planeteers.

It was the slogan of the four League worlds, Thorn knew, the formula that Haskell Trask, the dictator, had impressed almost hypnotically upon his followers. Everyone in the rocketplane, to show his patriotism, hastened to repeat it.

"The Chairman is always right,” they chorused together, the Planeteers joining in.

Sual Av choked over a sneeze that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, and Thorn shot the disguised Venusian a furious glance.

Thorn guessed after a little while that they were approaching Saturnopolis. The city was not yet visible through the misty rain, but below them now lay vast cultivated groves of the queer fungus-fruits developed on this world. Many workers could be seen down there, toiling and plodding through the cold, dripping rain.

Saturnopolis came into sight, low on the distant horizon ahead. Underneath the dusky daylight sky, framed by the colossal shining arch of the rings, the metropolis showed as a great mass of low black structures. A square, terraced black fortress rose near the center of the city, vague and distant in the mists.

John Thorn's hands clenched as he glimpsed, miles north of the capital, the huge expanse of an enormous spaceport. He could make out rows of hundreds on hundreds of battle cruisers parked there, and others landing or taking off. That hive of swarming activity, he knew, was the main base at which most of the ships of the League navies were gathering for the coming attack on the Alliance.

Kribo had followed Thorn's intent gaze. The booming voice of the hunter startled the disguised young Earthman.

"They say any rocket-plane that flies within five miles of that spaceport is gunned down,” Kribo declared. “I always give the place a wide berth."

Thorn nodded. For the moment, as he stared at the gathering armada that was intended to carry conquest and destruction to the inner worlds, he could not trust himself to speak.

"Here we are,” boomed Kribo a few minutes later. He added proudly, “It didn't take long in this machine, did it?"

Their rocket-plane was gliding down over the flat, black roofs of the city. They poised in the rainy mist, edged into a descent-level, and presently came down on a parking-roof.

Kribo turned genially to Thorn and his comrades as the party of slith hunters emerged from the battered machine.

"You three lads come along with us to Mother Bombey's place,” he boomed. “It's our favorite drinking spot here."

"Sorry, we can't,” Thorn told him. “We're out of money, and these few teeth we have won't bring more than enough to pay our way back to Karies."

"Who said you would need money?” demanded Kribo indignantly. “I'm paying for everything, lads. I know what it is to come back from a hard trip with only a handful of teeth."

Thorn thought rapidly. He had a plan for seeking Lana, but could not try it until night came. The Planeteers would be safer if they stayed off the streets in the meantime.

"All right, we're your men if you're paying,” he told Kribo with a grin, as they descended to the street.

Saturnopolis looked a dreary place in the sickly daylight beneath the falling rain. The cold mists that fogged its streets were bone-chilling. Through the streets roared rocketcars, and the pedestrian-walks were crowded with the Saturnian populace, and with hordes of officers and men of the four League navies. The four circle emblem of the League was showing everywhere, and it was clearly evident that Haskell Trask had whipped the people to war-fever.

Far away, across the city, there rose from the ruck of low, black cement buildings the huge, terraced square pile that dominated everything. It had been built two centuries before, as the seat of the Saturnian government. Now, Thorn knew, it was the guarded citadel in which the ruthless dictator of the League of Cold Worlds lived and worked and wove his plans of conquest.

Sual Av and Gunner Welk pressed close beside Thorn as the noisy hunters pushed through the crowded streets.

The Mercurian, glancing at the distant, frowning pile, spoke guardedly in deep undertones.

"The girl will be in that fortress, John. And I still don't see how we can, hope even to get in there."

"We'll get in,” Thorn muttered with grim determination. “I've been here before, and I have a plan."

"It'll have to be damned good to get us past the net of secret police around that place,” whispered Gunner. Thorn's eyes clung with fierce intensity to the looming, mist-vague fortress. Somewhere behind those forbidding walls was the pirate girl who was the focus of all his thoughts. What tortures were Haskell Trask and his fat spymaster using upon her to make her reveal the secret of Erebus?

"Here we are!” boomed Kribo, stopping in a dingy cross-street. He pushed through a door, the others following.

Thorn perceived that Mother Bornbey's was a shabby rendezvous, with a drinking-counter, tables, and a few “happiness vibration” booths. Krypton lamps lit the place, a few “glowers” dispelled the chill, and it was more than crowded with rough slith hunters.

"Welcome, Kribo!” roared a dozen voices. “What luck this time?"

"Fair, boys, fair,” answered the hulking hunter complacently. He turned. “Meet some lads from up in Karies."

He pointed to the disguised Planeteers, introducing them to the crowd by the false names that Thorn had given him.

A hard-faced, ample-figured old Saturnian hag reached over the drinking-counter with an outstretched hand.

"Pass over the guns, Kribo,” she, ordered harshly.

"This is Mother Bombey,” Kribo told Thorn with a grin. “She makes us check our guns when we come in, so that our little arguments won't wreck the place."

Thorn made no objection to handing over the heavy atom-guns, for he and Sual Av and Gunner Welk retained their atom pistols inside their jackets.

"Drinks or vibrations for everybody!” ordered Kribo, slapping down a platinum coin with a lordly gesture.

Thorn ordered fungus wine, which he knew was the Saturnian favorite. Sual Av and Gunner Welk followed his lead.

"Here's better times and plenty teeth for every hunter!” proposed Kribo, quaffing the pale liquor.

John Thorn could not help liking the hulking hunter. He sensed that here was a representative of the real population of the League worlds, hardworking, fundamentally decent people all, when not whipped up to war fever by an ambitious dictator's inflammatory lies.