Gold in the Sky
2. Jupiter Equilateral
For a moment, Major Briarton just stared at him. Then he was on hisfeet, shaking his head as he came around the desk. "Tom, use your head,"he said. "It's as much of a shock to me as it is to you, but you can'tafford to jump to false conclusions...."
Tom Hunter looked up bitterly. "He's dead, isn't he?"
"Yes, he's dead. He must have died the instant of the explosion...."
"You mean you don't know?"
"I wasn't there at the time it happened, no."
"Then who was?"
* * * * *
Major Briarton spread his hands helplessly. "Nobody was. Your father wasalone. From what we could tell later, he'd left the _Scavenger_ to landon one of his claims, using the ship's scooter for the landing. He wason the way back to the _Scavenger_ when the rear tank exploded. Therewasn't enough left of it to tell what went wrong ... but it was anaccident, there was no evidence to suggest anything else."
Tom looked at him. "You really believe that?"
"I can only tell you what we found."
"Well, I don't believe it for a minute," Tom said angrily. "How longhave you and Dad been friends? Twenty years? Twenty-five? Do you reallythink Dad would have an accident with a mining rig?"
"I know he was an expert engineer," the major said. "But things canhappen that even an expert can't foresee, mining in the Belt."
"Things like a fuel tank exploding? Not to Dad, they would never happen.I don't care what anybody says...."
"Easy, Tom," Greg said.
"Well, I won't take it easy. Dad was too careful for something like thatto happen. If he had an accident, somebody _made_ it happen."
Greg turned to the major. "What was Dad doing out there?"
"Mining."
"By himself? No crew at all?"
"No, he was alone."
"I thought the regulations said there always had to be at least two menworking an asteroid claim."
"That's right. Your father had Johnny Coombs with him when he left SunLake City. They signed out as a team ... and then Johnny came back toMars on the first shuttle ship."
"How come?"
"Not even Johnny knows. Your father just sent him back, and there wasnothing we could do about it then. The U.N. has no jurisdiction in thebelt, unless a major crime has been committed." Major Briarton shook hishead helplessly. "If a man is determined to mine a claim all by himselfout there, he can find a dozen different ways to wiggle out of theregulations."
"But Dad would never be that stupid," Greg said. "If he was alone whenit happened, who found him?"
"A routine U.N. Patrol ship. When Roger failed to check in at theregular eight-hour signal, they went out to see what was wrong. But bythe time they reached him, it was too late to help."
"I just don't get it," Greg said. "Dad had more sense than to try tomine out there all by himself."
"I know," the major said. "I don't know the answer. I had the Patrolship go over the scene of the accident with a comb after they found whathad happened, but there was nothing there to find. It was an accident,and that's that."
"What about Jupiter Equilateral?" Tom said hotly. "Everybody knows theywere out to get Dad ... why don't you find out what _they_ were doingwhen it happened, bring them in for questioning...."
"I can't do that, I haven't a scrap of evidence," the major saidwearily.
"Why can't you? You're the Mars Coordinator, aren't you? You act likeyou're scared of them."
Major Briarton's lips tightened angrily. "All right, since you put itthat way ... I _am_ scared of them. They're big, and they're powerful.If they had their way, there wouldn't be any United Nations control onMars, there wouldn't be _anybody_ to fight them and keep them in check.There wouldn't be any independent miners out in the Belt, either,because they'd all be bought out or dead, and Earth would pay throughthe nose for every ounce of metal that they got from the Asteroid Belt.That company has been trying to drive the U.N. off Mars for thirtyyears, and they've come so close to it that it scares me plenty." Hepushed his chair back sharply and rose to his feet. "And that isexactly why I refuse to stir up a mess over this thing, unhappy asit is, without something more than suspicions and rumors to back meup ... because all Jupiter Equilateral needs is one big issue to make uslook like fools out here, and we're through."
He crossed the room to a wall cabinet, opened it, and pulled out ascarred aluminum box. "We found this in the cabin of the _Scavenger_. Ithought you boys might want it."
They both recognized it instantly ... the battered old spacer's packthat Roger Hunter had used for as long as they could remember. It seemedto them, suddenly, as if a part of him had appeared here in the roomwith them. Greg looked at the box and turned away. "You open it," hesaid to Tom in a sick voice.
There was nothing much inside ... some clothing, a pipe and tobaccopouch, a jack knife, half a dozen other items so familiar that Tom couldhardly bear to touch them. At the bottom of the pack was the heavyleather gun case which had always held Roger Hunter's ancient .44revolver. Tom dropped it back without even opening the flap. He closedthe box and took a deep breath. "Then you really believe that it was anaccident and nothing more?" he said to the major.
Major Briarton shook his head. "What I think or don't think doesn't makeany difference. It just doesn't matter. In order to do anything, I'vegot to have evidence, and there just isn't any evidence. I can't eventake a ship out there for a second look, with the evidence I have, andthat's all there is to it."
"But you think that maybe it wasn't an accident, just the same," Tompursued.
The major hesitated. Then he shook his head again. "I'm sorry, but I'vegot to stand on what I've said. And I think you'd better stand on it,too. There's nothing else to be done."
* * * * *
It should have been enough, but it wasn't. As Tom Hunter walked with hisbrother down the broad Upper Ramp to the business section of Sun LakeCity, he could not shake off the feeling of helpless anger, the growingconviction that Roger Hunter's death involved something more than thetragic accident in space that Major Briarton had insisted it was.
"He didn't tell us everything he knew," Tom said fiercely. "He didn'tsay everything he wanted to say, either. He doesn't think it was anaccident any more than I do."
"How do you know, are you a mind reader?"
"No."
"Well, Dad wasn't a superman, either. He was taking an awful risk,trying to work a mining rig by himself, and he had a bad break. Why doyou have to have somebody to blame for it?"
"Keep talking," Tom said. "You'll convince yourself yet."
Greg just jammed his hands in his pockets, and they walked in silencefor a moment.
For Tom and Greg Hunter, Sun Lake City had always been home. Now theywalked along the Main Concourse, Tom with the aluminum box under hisarm, Greg with his own spacer's pack thrown over his shoulder. Theydidn't talk; rather than being drawn closer by the news of the tragedy,it seemed that they had drawn farther apart, as though the one commonlink that had held them together had suddenly been broken.
Finally Tom broke the silence. "At least there's one thing we can do,"he said. "I'm going to call Johnny Coombs."
He shortly found a phone booth and dialed a number. Johnny had been afriend of the family for years; he and Roger Hunter had been partners inmany mining ventures in the Asteroid Belt before Roger had taken hisposition with Jupiter Equilateral. If Johnny had any suspicions thatRoger Hunter's accident had been more than an accident, he certainlywould not hesitate to voice them....
After a dozen rings, Tom hung up, tried another number. There was noanswer there, either. Frowning, Tom rang the city's central pagingsystem. "Put in a personal call for Johnny Coombs," he said when the"record" signal flashed on. "Tell him to contact the Hunters when hecomes in. We'll be at home...."
They resumed their silent walk. When they reached H wing on the fourthlevel, they turned right down an apartment corridor, and stop
ped infront of a familiar doorway. Tom pressed his palm against thelock-plate, and the door swung open.
It was home to them, the only home they had ever known. Soft lightssprang up on the walls of the apartment as the door opened. Tom saw theold bookcases lining the walls, the drafting-board and light at the farend of the room, the simple chairs and dining table, the door which ledinto the bedroom and kitchen beyond. The room had the slightlydisheveled look that it had had ever since Mom had died ... a slipper onthe floor here, a book face down on the couch there....
It looked as though Dad had just stepped out for an hour or so.
Tom was three steps into the room before he saw the visitor.
The man was sitting comfortably in Roger Hunter's easy chair, a short,fat man with round pink cheeks that sagged a little and a double chinthat rested on his neck scarf. There were two other men in the room,both large and broad-shouldered; one of them nodded to the fat man, andmoved to stand between the boys and the door.
The fat man was out of his seat before the boys could speak, smiling atthem and holding out his hand. "I wanted to be sure to see you beforeyou left the city," he was saying, "so we just came on in to wait. Ihope you don't mind our ... butting in, so to speak." He chuckled,looking from one twin to the other. "You don't know me, I suppose. I'mMerrill Tawney. Representing Jupiter Equilateral, you know."
Tom took the card he was holding out, looked at the name and the tinygold symbol in the corner, a letter "J" in the center of a triangle. Hehanded the card to Greg. "I've seen you before," he told the fat man."What do you want with us?"
Tawney smiled again, spreading his hands. "We've heard about thetragedy, of course. A shocking thing ... Roger was one of our group sorecently. We wanted you to know that if there is anything at all we cando to help, we'd be only too glad...."
"Thanks," Greg said. "But we're doing just fine."
Tawney's smile tightened a little, but he hung onto it. "I always feltclose to your father," he said. "All of us at Jupiter Equilateral did.We were all sorry to see him leave."
"I bet you were," Greg said, "he was the best mining engineer you everhad. But Dad could never stand liars, or crooked ways of doingbusiness."
One of the men started for Greg, but the fat man stopped him with a waveof his hand. "We had our differences of opinion," he said. "We sawthings one way, your father saw them another way. But he was a fine man,one of the finest...."
"Look, Mr. Tawney, you'd better say what you came to say and get out ofhere," Greg said dangerously, "before we give your friends heresomething to do."
"I merely came to offer you some help," Tawney said. He was no longersmiling. "Since your father's death, you two have acquired certainresponsibilities. I thought we might relieve you of some of them."
"What sort of responsibilities?"
"You have an unmanned orbit-ship which is now a derelict in the AsteroidBelt. You have a scout-ship out there also. You can't just leave themthere as a navigation hazard to every ship traveling in the sector.There are also a few mining claims which aren't going to be of muchvalue to you now."
"I see," Greg said. "Are you offering to buy Dad's mining rig?"
"Well, I doubt very much that we'd have any use for it, as such. But wecould save you the trouble of going out there to haul it in."
"That's very thoughtful," Greg said. "How much are you offering?"
Tom looked up in alarm. "Wait a minute," he said. "That rig's not forsale...."
"How much?" Greg repeated.
"Forty thousand dollars," Merrill Tawney said. "Ship, rig and claims.We'll even pay the transfer tax."
Tom stared at the man, wondering if he had heard right. He knew whatRoger Hunter had paid for the rig; he had been with Dad when the paperswere signed. Tawney's offer was three times as much as the rig wasworth.
But Greg was shaking his head. "I don't think we could sell at thatprice."
The fat man's hands fluttered. "You understand that those ships arehardly suited to a major mining operation like ours," he said, "and theclaims...." He dismissed them with a wave of his hand. "Still, we'd wantyou to be happy with the price. Say, forty-five thousand?"
Greg hesitated, shook his head again. "I guess we'd better think itover, Mr. Tawney."
"Fifty thousand is absolutely the top," Tawney said sharply. "I have thepapers right here, drawn up for your signatures, but I'm afraid we can'thold the offer open."
"I don't know, we might want to do some mining ourselves," Greg said."For all we know, Dad might have struck some rich ore on one of thoseclaims."
Tawney laughed. "I hardly think so. Those claims were all JupiterEquilateral rejects. Our own engineers found nothing but low grade oreon any of them."
"Still, it might be fun to look."
"It could be very expensive fun. Asteroid mining is a dangerousbusiness, even for experts. For amateurs...." Tawney spread his hands."Accidents occur...."
"Yes, we've heard about those accidents," Greg said coldly. "I don'tthink we're quite ready to sell, Mr. Tawney. We may never be ready tosell to you, so don't stop breathing until we call you. Now if there'snothing else, why don't you take your friends and go somewhere else?"
The fat man scowled; he started to say something more, then saw the lookon Greg's face, and shrugged. "I'd advise you to give it some carefulthought," he said as he started for the door. "It might be very foolishfor you to try to use that rig."
Smiling, Greg closed the door in his face. Then he turned and winked atTom. "Great fellow, Mr. Tawney. He almost had me sold."
"So I noticed," Tom said. "For a while I thought you were serious."
"Well, we found out how high they'd go. That's a very generous outfitMr. Tawney works for."
"Or else a very crooked one," Tom said. "Are you wondering the samething I'm wondering?"
"Yes," Greg said slowly. "I think I am."
"Then that makes three of us," a heavy voice rumbled from the bedroomdoor.
* * * * *
Johnny Coombs was a tall man, so thin he was almost gangling, with along nose and shaggy eyebrows jutting out over his eyes. With his rudelycropped hair and his huge hands, he looked like a caricature of afrontier Mars-farmer, but the blue eyes under the eyebrows were notdull.
"Johnny!" Tom cried. "We were trying to find you."
"I know," Johnny said. "So have a lot of other people, includin' yourfriends there."
"Well, did you hear what Tawney wanted?"
"I'm not so quick on my feet any more," Johnny Coombs said, "but I gotnothin' wrong with my ears." He scratched his jaw and looked up sharplyat Greg. "Not many people nowadays get a chance to bargain with MerrillTawney."
Greg shrugged. "He named a price and I didn't like it."
"Three times what the rig is worth," Coombs said.
"That's what I didn't like," Greg said. "That outfit wouldn't give us abreak like that just for old times' sake. Do you think they would?"
"Well, I don't know," Johnny said slowly. "Back before they built thecity here, they used to have rats getting into the grub. Came right downoff the ships. Got rid of most of them, finally, but it seems to mewe've still got some around, even if they've got different shapes now."He jerked his thumb toward the bedroom door. "In case you're wondering,that's why I was standin' back there all this time ... just to make sureyou didn't sell out to Tawney no matter what price he offered."
Tom jumped up excitedly. "Then you know something about Dad's accident!"
"No, I can't say I do. I wasn't there."
"Do you really think it was an accident?"
"Can't prove it wasn't."
"But at least you've got some ideas," Tom said.
"Takes more than ideas to make a case," he said at length. "But there'sone thing I do know. I've got no proof, not a shred of it, but I'm sureof one thing just as sure as I'm on Mars." He looked at the twinsthoughtfully. "Your dad wasn't just prospecting, out in the Belt. He'drun onto something out there, something big." br />
The twins looked at him. "Run onto something?" Greg said. "You mean...."
"I mean I think your dad hit a Big Strike out there, rich metal, a realbonanza lode. Maybe the biggest strike that's ever been made," the minersaid slowly. "And then somebody got to him before he could bring it in."