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Authors: Lester Del Rey

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CHAPTER FIVE

GHOST SHIP

The beep, steady and persistent in its electronic perfection, led Pete clear through the dangerous rock stream into comparatively open space beyond. Seemingly annoyed at the imperfection of humans and their strange antics, the beep angled him several degrees to the left of his previous line of travel and delivered him to a position from which he caught sight of another monocar.

It was in trouble, its course carelessly erratic. Several times as Pete approached, it turned end-over-end, lazily, as though no one was at the controls.

The screams had stopped while Pete was still in the rock stream, but he'd been so busy avoiding death that he would have ignored them regardless. But now he called out, “Ahoy! Monocar! I'm overhead! What's your problem?”

The voice that came back was no longer in panic. It was now charged with irritation and hostility. “Well, it took you long enough to get here!”

Pete's mouth dropped open. “Well, for… Look! I came as fast as I could. I had to come through the Badlands. Who are you? What happened?”

Who was she! As though Pete didn't know! He hadn't been too sure when he'd picked up the call, but there was no doubt now. He'd again been brought into the orbit of the spitfire from the
Snapdragon.
Jane Barry was in his hair again.

“Well, don't just sit there,” she snapped. “Come and help me. I'm losing my air.”

“I'll pull alongside and grapple on,” Pete said. “Use your belt if you have to.”

“What do you think I'm using now—vacuum?”

It was in Pete's mind to ask her if she'd ever spoken a civil word in her life, but he was in the process of easing in to grapple, so he saved the question for later.

Brushing close, he activated the magnetic shoes behind the shell of his car on the right side and the two cars were jerked together.

“You could be a little more careful,” Jane complained. “You almost sprained my neck.”

I should have broken it, Pete thought. “Sorry,” he said. “What did you do—hit a rock?”

“It was a ship. An immense thing. It tried to run me down.” Echoes of the original fright sounded in Jane's voice.

“You're crazy. There aren't any ships around here.”

“It was back there in the Badlands.”

“That's even crazier. A ship would have smashed up—even one out of control—before it reached the Badlands. An off-course ship might approach the Belt, but…well you just blundered into an asteroid and…”

“Don't tell me what I did. Do you think I'm blind?”

“As a matter of fact, I was wondering. You hit a rock and call it a ship—”

“Oh, you're impossible! Release your grapples. I'll make it home myself.”

“Don't be silly. The way you were staggering, there must be something wrong with your steering vents. How is your heat?”

“It's gone. I'm using my belt.”

“The shell of your car is broken then.”

“It's cracked.”

“Then we'll stay as we are. I'll tow you back to the
Snapdragon
.”

There was no reply. Pete set his directionals on Pallas, and the coupled monocars began to move.

There was a time of silence that Jane finally broke. “I tell you it was a ship.”

Pete looked out through his plastic shield and into the crippled monocar from which Jane had thrown the angry words into his radio. In no mood to placate or sympathize with her, he snapped, “Oh, be reasonable. So you hit a rock. It's been done before.”

“All right.
Don't
believe me!”

“Granted it was, which is ridiculous, you still got very careless. A big ship?”

“Yes. A space liner of some kind. But it was—”

Pete cut in to make his point. “A monocar being put into danger by a space liner is like saying—”

“I know. Maybe I was a little careless. But who would expect a monster like that to come out of nowhere? I just looked up and there is was—filling the whole sky. I jerked my nose down and it banged my tail and almost wrecked me.”

“The way you screamed it must have chased you, too.”

“I was trapped. The rock stream was thick there. I was blocked in every direction I turned. Then there was that huge hulk grinding down on me. Like—like a live thing.”

“Take it easy. You're safe now.”

“Then you believe me?”

“I think you believe yourself.”

“In other words, I'm feeble-minded.”

“You're twisting my words. When people panic—”

“I didn't panic!”

“You should have heard yourself over that emergency band.”

“Oh, you're impossible.”

Nothing was said for a few moments. Then Pete asked his question. “Tell me something—why are you so hostile?”

“I'm not hostile! I—”

“Oh, cut it out. You haven't said a friendly word since we met.”

All Pete really expected was more of the same, but Jane didn't flare back at him. He glanced across at her. She sat with her head back on the rest and looked to be tired. Ghost ship or not, she'd had a harrowing experience of some sort and her hostility was at least partially shattered. There was weariness in her face. Pete could see it even behind the headpiece of her oxygen unit.

“You have to be hostile in this world,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because that's how it is. My father worked hard all his life and had nothing but bad luck. This is a cold, hostile world out here.”

“It isn't so bad.”

“No? Just open your shield and step outside and see what happens to you.”

“That's silly. It's a dangerous world, sure. But we have safeguards.”

“The whole Belt is built to kill you. You've got to be on your toes every minute.”

“I think you're just tired. Things will look different in the morning.”

“Will they be any better for my mother? It wasn't my father's fault, but what was he able to leave Mother? An old beaten-up ship, a family to raise, no money—”

“It's your younger sisters you're worried about then? And your mother?”

“Wouldn't you worry? Every miner in the Brotherhood hates us.”

“That's not true. They just don't like the way your mother does things.”

“Well, they can go to blazes!”

“Hold it. Let's not start fighting again.”

“I'm sorry.”

Pete was amazed. I'm
sorry
coming from Jane Barry was a big concession. For a moment, Pete questioned its sincerity. But it did sound genuine.

“What about your Uncle Homer?”

“What about him?”

“Doesn't he help you? He's part of the family.”

“In the first place, he isn't my uncle. He was a very good friend of my father's and so we call him uncle. He can't help much. He has a great deal of bad luck.” Pete was inclined to call it something else. He had a more critical term in mind but, again, he didn't want to ruffle Jane's feathers.

“What were you doing out in the Belt?”

“I was prospecting.”

“That's no job for a girl.”

“I've got as much right as anybody else to.”

“No, take it easy. Of course you have. But you didn't expect to find anything in the Badlands, did you?”

“Who knows where rich ore lies in the Belt? It could be there just as easily as any place else.”

“Except that it's generally agreed that it isn't. All those rocks came from the same source. It's a smashed-up planet that drifted into the stream.”

Jane didn't choose to argue the point. She was silent for awhile. Her eyes were closed, and Pete thought she was taking a nap. Then she proved herself to be awake by saying, “I've got to get this car fixed and then go back and find that crazy ship.”

She'd certainly seen something, Pete realized. But what had it really been? A ship blundering around in the Badlands would get into trouble immediately and radio for help. A call from a space liner would have brought every miner in the sector, hoping for salvage money.

Seeking to change the subject and take Jane's mind off her near-fatal accident, Pete said, “I struck it rich today. I found an asteroid dripping with copper.”

“Congratulations. I hope my call didn't pull you away from your work.”

“I was finished when it came in. I'd already chartered the orbit and made out the claim form. It's here in my pocket.”

“Now all you have to do is file.”

Pete suddenly wished he hadn't mentioned the claim. He didn't like the wistful note in Jane's voice. But then he quickly told himself he was being unfair. Jane wasn't a thief. Neither was her mother. Then he suddenly wondered if Rachel and her brood were not unjustly suffering from Homer's reputation.

“You say that Uncle Homer, as you call him, was a good friend of your father's.”

“Yes. When Father was alive, he depended on Uncle Homer a great deal. They worked together—mined together.”

“I wonder if it wasn't the other way around.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe Uncle Homer depended a lot on your father.”

“You're not making sense. Father was wonderful. But he was…well, very impractical.”

“Yes, but from what I've heard he was also one of the best mining engineers in the Belt. He had both the knowledge and the instinct.”

“That was true,” Jane said proudly.

“And yet he never came away with much wealth.”

Jane frowned and turned her eyes to look through the two glass panels that separated them. “What are you driving at?”

“I've also heard that your father was so honest he couldn't cheat anybody if he'd wanted to, and sometimes people like that think everybody is as honest, too.”

Jane's eyes sparked dangerously. “If you're saying what I think you're saying…”

“I'm only pointing out a possibility based on things I've heard. The stories I've heard about things going wrong for your father every time he was on the verge of a real bonanza. Of course, it's none of my business, but—”

“That's exactly right,
Mister
Mason. It's none of your business!”

Pete raised a quick hand. “All right—all right. I apologize. I was out of line.”

“You certainly were! Release your grapples. I'll get home by myself!”

“Oh, not that again. Why don't you grow up and start controlling those childish tantrums? If I let go you'd start wallowing all over the Belt.”

The truth of this had a dampening effect on Jane. She hesitated and Pete followed up his advantage.

“Truce?”

“All right—truce.”

Pete felt that he had the picture. Jane had adored her father. In her eyes he could have done no wrong of any description and now that he was gone she accepted as absolute truth all the explanations for failure he had ever given his family. Thus, her father's belief that Uncle Homer was a loyal friend had become Jane's belief also.

In a strange, twisted way, Uncle Homer had become Jane's father image.

“I'll not mention Uncle Homer again,” Pete said, “if you'll tell me one thing.”

“Tell you what?”

“Do you get any help at all from him?”

He thought she was going to flare again, but she didn't. Still, there was defiance in her voice as she said, “He tries. Uncle Homer tries very hard and one of these days he'll hit his bonanza and then everything will be fine.”

“That's great. So why are you worrying about your family? All you have to do is hang on.”

“Oh, will you shut up?”

Pete turned his head away to hide a small grin. He felt he'd won something in his personality war with Jane Barry. He couldn't figure out exactly what, though. And while he was mulling it over, a shape more symmetrical than an asteroid loomed in the light from the distant sun, and he said, “Look, there's the
Snapdragon
.”

Jane looked but had no comment, and Pete said, “Seeing you coming home this way—being towed—will probably scare your mother.”

“No. She'd be more scared if I came in end-over-end without a tow.”

“That's logical.”

Pete eased the two cars toward the starboard airlock of the
Snapdragon.
She was a tired old ship, a Class Five space freighter that limped along at speeds that were now minor, but which had been major fifty years earlier. She was limited to an inner-stellar orbit because the passengers in a ship of her class would have become very old while traveling a single light-year.

While Jane was clearing the crippled monocar, Pete saw two small faces pressed against the quartz of the portholes on either side of the airlock. They would belong to Ellen and Colleen, Jane's younger sisters, and they weren't in the least panicked by the sight of Jane coming home crippled. The younger one was giggling, and the older one brazenly winked at Pete and then stuck her tongue out.

“You're all right now,” Pete said. “I'll anchor your car to the hull and go on my way.”

“You can't do that. You have to come in for at least a few minutes.”

“I don't have much time. I want to get to the Federation office at Parma and file my claim.”

“But Mother will think you're slighting us.”

“You know that isn't true.”

“Yes, but she doesn't.”

“All right. But just for a few minutes.”

CHAPTER SIX

THE SNAPDRAGON

The two younger Barrys were eagerly awaiting their guest just beyond the inner door of the airlock. They were both dark, like Jane, and had the flashing Barry eyes. But while Ellen, the twelve-year-old, was slim and graceful, the younger Colleen was a butterball. And they were both as frank and forthright as their elder sister.

“I know you,” Colleen announced. “You're one of the miners. You hate us.”

“I do not,” Pete protested.

“You do too,” Ellen chimed in. “You're always trying to keep us from making a living!”

“Why, I wouldn't do that for all the gold in the Belt.”

“You're just saying that to be polite.”

“Ellen!” Jane said, “you stop that. Where's Mother?”

“She's in the bedroom reading her astrology book.”

“Did you tell her I was towed in?”

“No. She's casting her horoscope for all next week. We never interrupt her when she's doing that.”

“Mother never moves until she finds out which way the stars point,” Jane said by way of explanation. “Pardon me while I make a cup of tea.”

She left the room, and it occurred to Pete that he had referred to it that way in his mind. A
room.
But spaceships didn't have rooms, they had cabins. That was what made the
Snapdragon
different. There was a rug on the floor of this particular room and a big easy chair into which he dropped to await developments.

There were pictures on the walls and curtains in the windows—except that in a ship the walls were bulkheads and the windows were ports, thus making things very confusing.

One thing was certain. Rachel Barry, whatever else she'd done, had made a home for her little brood.

Ellen regarded Pete narrowly from a safe distance while Colleen, less particular about whom she associated with, climbed into his lap.

“I like you—I think,” she said.

“I like you for sure,” Pete answered.

“Did you come here to spy on us?”

“No. I brought your sister home.”

“When Uncle Homer's here, he says never answer the door, because it would be somebody spying.”

That was interesting, but Pete reserved comment. “Do you like living in a spaceship?”

“She's never lived anywhere else,” Ellen said.

“What about you?”

“I lived on Parma for awhile—in a house.”

“She doesn't remember it, though. She was too small. What's that?”

Colleen had reached into Pete's pocket and taken out his slide rule. He'd put it there while computing the orbit of the claim he'd found. “It's something to work out problems on. Haven't you ever seen one before?”

“That's nothing,” Ellen sniffed. “Jane uses one when she plots a course for the
Snapdragon.”

“I'll bet she doesn't use it as good as you do,” Colleen said, then, obviously a child of impulse and quick affection, she threw her arms around Pete and planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

Pete laughed. “Hey, hold it. You're a pretty fast worker.”

“I love you,” Colleen said and clung with all her might.

“Don't pay any attention to her,” Ellen said. “She loves everybody.”

But it was impossible not to pay attention to Colleen. She refused to let go, and Pete, trying to dislodge her as gently as possible, came to his feet.

Instantly, Ellen leaped forward and flung herself upon him. He went to his knees and both the young Barrys whooped with delight. Finding himself smothered, Pete struggled blindly, the impetuous pair too much for him on such short notice. Then his prayer for help was answered.

“Ellen—Colleen! Get up off that floor. I'm ashamed of you.”

“Aw, Mom. We were just showing Pete how to wrestle.”

They untangled themselves and drew away and Pete got back on his feet. “Thanks, Mrs. Barry,” he grinned. “They were too much for me.”

“Girls,” she scolded. “You're too young to call older people by their first names. This is
Mister
Mason.”

“Jane called him Pete,” Ellen complained.

“She's older than you are,” Rachael Barry said, as Pete brushed carpet lint off his jacket. “Please sit down, Pete.” She sighed. “It's so very difficult, raising three healthy, active children without a father.”

“I can sympathize with you.”

“It was so nice of you to drop in. Jane should be home before long. She went out to do a little prospecting.”

“She's here now. I came with her.”

“Oh, that's nice. By the way, Pete, when were you born?”

“In August. The ninth.”

“That makes you a Leo. That's a very good sign.”

“Jane's in the kitchen making tea, Mom,” Ellen said.

“I'll bet she's in the bathroom fixing up her hair. When she comes out she'll be wearing a dress and her hair will be all combed.”

“Jane had a little accident,” Pete said, pushing his words in between those of the Barry girls. “I towed her home.”

“Oh, that was nice of you. So neighborly. I wish the miners were more neighborly.”

“It's just that everyone is so busy making a living. Then too, not many of them are married. Mining is a pretty rough life for wives.”

“That's what I keep telling everyone,” Rachel Barry said.

Pete wished Jane would come back. He didn't feel at ease with Rachel, not being used to the company of females.

At the moment he was struck by Rachel's apparent lack of interest in Jane's accident. This seemed inconsistent with her reputation as a devoted mother to the Barry brood. Then, possessing a certain insight into people, he realized that Rachel had a sublime faith in destiny. You worked and did your best, and destiny would see to it that nothing really bad ever happened.

Then he learned another thing about his hostess. When she wanted something, she asked for it. “Pete,” Rachel said, “we want to move the
Snapdragon
closer to the main stream of the Belt. That will make it easier for Jane to prospect.”

Pete almost said that a seventeen-year-old girl had no business prospecting for ore in the first place, but he remembered that it was none of his business.

“It's so far from Pallas to the good fields. Will you help us?”

“Move the ship, you mean?”

“Yes. Jane and I can do it, of course, but we really need a man to help.”

“What about Homer? I'd think that—”

“Oh, Homer is a dear, but he has so many problems of his own. A body can't depend on him.”

“Why, I'd be glad to help.”

That wasn't true. Pete wasn't glad at all. He had his own work and he felt that it was Homer's job. But he could hardly refuse in the face of Rachel Barry's direct request.

“Do you think your father would mind if we moored some place on Juno? It's a very big planetoid and we'd be no trouble at all.”

“I'm sure he wouldn't mind,” Pete replied.

What was he saying
? Joe Mason would go straight through the ceiling of his slab-aluminum bedroom!

“Why, that's so sweet of you,” Rachel said. “Your offer is
most
kind. And you'll hardly know we're there.”

Not know the Barrys were around? That was really rubbing it in. Pete gulped. He'd been about to reverse himself, or at least tell Rachel Barry he'd have to ask his father first. But after her outpouring of gratitude, he couldn't find the words.

“It's nothing,” he murmured.

Then he was hit from two sides by the Barry offspring as they demonstrated their gratitude in what amounted to physical attack. Advancing from two sides, they threw themselves on him.

“We love you! We love you!” they shrieked.

And as they began taking Pete apart, Rachel Barry beamed happy approval. “You've made a tremendous impression on them. They're usually quite shy with strangers.”

Pete couldn't conceive Ellen and Colleen as being shy with anyone, but he was too busy defending himself from the violent affection of the two extroverts to give much thought to the idea of their being shy.

Then he got his next surprise. This came as Colleen caught sight of someone or something in the doorway and hurled herself off Pete's lap.

“Here's Omaha,” she cried. “He wants to thank you too.”

She rushed toward the door. Pete's eyes followed and he saw a small, furry beast glaring balefully at him from the doorway. It was on four squat legs and had a tail it kept twitching nervously. It looked as though it would enjoy having him for dinner.

The eyes were its most arresting feature. A clear ice-blue, they contrasted with its long, black, silky coat and made Pete think of two sharp knives pointed at his heart.

“What's—that,” he gulped.

Rachel Barry laughed gently. “You've certainly heard of Omaha. He's our pet cat. We all love him and he loves us.”

“Omaha's famous,” Colleen babbled. “Daddy got him on Mars the last time he went there.”

“Somebody brought him from Earth,” Ellen said. “That's where they have cats. He's the only one in the Belt.”

“Oh, sure. I've heard of Omaha. He just—well, surprised me.”

Ellen picked the beast up and ran back to Pete's chair. “Here. He wants to sit in your lap.”

This wasn't true. Omaha had no desire whatever to sit in Pete's lap. The beast's hair stood on end. Its red mouth opened, revealing many sharp white teeth.

It did not use these, however. It had other, more convenient weapons: sharp claws on its feet. A thick, hissing sound rasped from its throat as it lashed out with the claws. They bit deep into Pete's sleeve as Omaha made a seemingly impossible backward leap and landed on the floor in front of the chair.

“Why, Omaha,” Rachel Barry said sternly. “That's no way to treat a guest.”

“You hurt him,” Ellen accused. “You pinched him or something!”

“I did not!” Pete retorted.

“I think he's frightened,” Colleen said wisely.

This didn't appear likely from where Pete sat. The beast crouched in front of his chair and appeared ready to take on all comers regardless of size and weight.

“It takes a little time with animals,” Rachel Barry said gently.

At that moment, Jane came to Pete's rescue carrying a tray full of tea things. She wore a dress and her black hair had been brushed until it glowed like silk.

“Beat it, Omaha,” she said, and the cat lifted its tail and retired from the field in contemptuous triumph.

“Tea! How lovely!” Rachel said. “You see, Pete, we do preserve the amenities on the
Snapdragon
even under difficulties.”

“Oh, Mother. Stop it!” Jane said. “I made a cup of tea. What's so tremendous about that?”

“Pete tells me you had an accident, dear.”

“I hit a ship in the Badlands.”

The sensational aspects of this statement escaped Rachel completely. Her mind was elsewhere. “Wasn't it nice to have a strong man come to your rescue?”

Jane's eyes narrowed. Pete, watching her, admired the willpower she displayed by not only holding her temper but smiling and replying sweetly, “Yes, Mother—very nice.” Then Jane turned her eyes on Pete, the smile remaining. “You're probably beginning to understand why we don't have much company on the
Snapdragon.”

Completely bemused by the Barrys, Pete sipped his tea and wondered what would happen next. His cup empty, he said, “I've got to hurry along. It's been great and I wish I could stay longer, but it's getting late.”

“Do come again,” Rachel said. Her motherly smile radiated out to include Pete in the family group. “Jane,” she said, “Pete has invited us to moor the
Snapdragon
on Juno.”

Jane's mouth dropped open as she stared at her mother.

“He—
what?”

“He invited us to moor on Juno. He even volunteered to help us move the ship.”

Jane turned her gaze on Pete, but he dropped his eyes. “I
do
have to go,” he murmured.

“I'll open the lock for you,” Jane said grimly.

“Goodbye, Pete,” Rachel smiled placidly. “It's been so nice having you.”

The younger pair had already left in search of Omaha, and Rachel departed also. Jane went to the lock, checked the air gauge, and opened it. She turned and faced Pete.

“What really happened?”

Pete did a pretty good job of looking innocent. “Why, it was like your Mother said—”

“It was not! Quit trying to be a gentleman. It doesn't look good on you. She asked to go to Juno and she asked you to help us. Isn't that right?”

“Well—”

“Tell the truth.”

Pete's anger flared. He was the victim of this conspiracy. He'd done the decent thing for Rachel Barry and now her daughter was blaming him for it.

“All right. We'll forget the whole thing,” Pete said. “It will be a great relief to me not to have to ask Dad about the
Snapdragon
mooring on Juno. Tell your mother I changed my mind on both counts.”

Jane's snapping black eyes glittered dangerously. “We've got a perfect legal right to moor on Juno. You didn't stake claims on the whole surface.”

In truth, the Masons had staked only one small claim on their home asteroid. Their rights were of a somewhat different nature.

“We have possessor's rights to that asteroid, and you know it.”

“There's nothing in the law about possessors. They don't legally exist.”

“Everybody in the Belt recognizes them. The miner who settles a planetoid and puts up a dwelling place has total rights.”

“All right. Then why isn't it the same on Parma? Miners live there and don't claim they own the whole asteroid.”

“Parma is a community planetoid—the biggest in the section, as you well know.”

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