But on the third day after their encounter with the Searchers, news came from an unexpected direction. The ship’s radar picked up a signal, revealed a small ship moving at a tangent in toward the asteroid, and Ben’s tentative recognition signal brought a jubilant response. A few moments later another Spacer S-80 was landing, piloted by a tall, white-haired man who greeted Ben with a hearty embrace as soon as he saw who he was.
It was Elmo Peterson, chief mechanic of the House of Trefon before the raid on the Earth ships.
The reunion was a happy one, Elmo had been one of the men who had broken free from the planet, carrying a cruiserfull of refugees with him, when the raid had begun. Once they had been safely interned on one of the outposts he had picked up an S-80, and now was cruising the Rings for stragglers, directing them on to Outpost 3 to join the fleet that was gathering there.
“But what about Asteroid Central?” Ben wanted to know.
“It’s touch-and-go,” the white-haired Spacer said. “The snakes can’t break through the Maze, but they have ships in there so thick a frontal assault against them wouldn’t stand a chance. Nobody would have believed they could have manned such a fleet, but they have. We’ve lost three squadrons that have hit them trying to break the siege. Another attempt would just be suicide. So we’re working out an alternative.”
“You mean an assault on Earth itself,” Ben said.
The big man gave Ben a sharp look. “As a matter of fact, that’s the plan. Get them at the roots. They have everything they own tied up in this armada out here, with only the shakiest defenses back home. If they can’t break the Maze, they can still starve us out of Central sooner or later. So while they’re sitting there waiting for something to happen, we plan to move in on their home ground.” Ben nodded. “And what do you plan to do when you get there?”
“Play the game by their rules,” Peterson said. “You saw what they did to Mars. Well, Mars is going to look like paradise when we get through with the planet Earth. Every factory, every city, every storage dump, every road junction—they don’t realize how many ships we will have outside Central when all the stragglers are in. We’re still rounding up ships heading in from Ganymede and Europa and Titan. When we move those ships in against Earth, our friends out here aren’t going to have any place to go home to.” The big Spacer eyed the Barrons with distaste, then looked back at Ben. “We’ll want you and your ship with us, naturally. But we don’t have any use for this pair.” Ben hesitated. It was an unexpected complication, and a tough one to get around. “What does the command on Central have to say about this?” he asked cautiously.
Elmo Peterson spread his hands. “They don’t know about it. The snakes have cut off communication completely; we haven’t gotten a message through for days.”
“And who’s commanding your fleet?”
“Tommy Whisk.”
“You mean he’s going along with this plan?” Ben asked, astonished.
“Not because he likes it, you can bet on that,” Elmo said. “You know Tommy Whisk. But now even he thinks it has to be done. We’ve got to break this siege somehow.” Ben nodded, thinking furiously. He had known Tommy Whisk from years before, when he had been one of Ivan Trefon’s closest friends on the Spacer Council. It was incredible that the elderly Navajo would be a party to a mass attack on Earth unless he truly believed it was a last desperate hope to break the siege. On the Spacer birth rolls Thomas Manywhisker was listed as one of a long line of wise Spacer leaders, and he was known to retain much of the ancient stolidity, patience, and perseverance that had always been so characteristic of his people.
And if Tommy Whisk were in command of the outlying Spacer fleet, he would welcome any approach to a peaceful end of the war. Ben struck his palm with his fist. “Look,” he said to Elmo. “The Council on Asteroid Central would want to know before any raiding fleet goes off half-cocked.”
“Yes, if they could be told. But how? Tommy has tried every way imaginable to get word through.
There just isn’t time left to try any more.”
“But suppose there was a way,” Ben said.
“Tommy would surely want to know it.”
“All right,” Ben said. “Help me get this crate spaceworthy again, and I’ll get word to Asteroid Central.”
Elmo blinked at him. “By magic, maybe?”
“Not quite. I’ll run the blockade.”
“That’s no good. It’s been tried.”
“I’ve got a way to make it work. And I won’t bring any Earth ship through with me, either. Give me twenty-four hours and I’ll have word back to you from the Council.” The big Spacer shook his head. “Ben, you’re talking about a suicide run. You wouldn’t stand a chance. And, anyway, Tommy’s orders were specific. I’m supposed to bring back any Spacer I run into to help build up the fleet.”
“I think this is more important,” Ben said. “I think Tommy would agree.” He hesitated a minute, then took the plunge. “Go back and give him a message from me. Tell him I have my father’s belt. I think he’ll understand. Tell him to give me twenty-four hours. If he hasn’t had word direct from Asteroid Central by then, tell him to go ahead. Because if I can’t do it in twenty-four hours, he’ll know it can’t be done.” Deep in the hold of the little S-80 the engines were throbbing once again, sending a barely palpable vibration through the whole ship. At the controls Ben Trefon made an occasional adjustment in course, with an uneasy eye on the radar screen, trying to fight down the panic that kept struggling for control, ever since he had moved away from the comparative safety of the asteroid.
Elmo Peterson had been hard to convince, but Ben had convinced him finally. Only after Ben had assured him and reassured him that he would be able to run the blockade successfully had the big Spacer reluctantly agreed to go along with Ben’s plan. Ultimately it was the fact that Ben was Ivan Trefon’s son that convinced him; Elmo Peterson had seen Ben’s father accomplish many things in the past that were supposed to be impossible until he proved by doing them that they weren’t. Even then Elmo had wanted to take the Barrons back to the Spacer fleet with him, fearing for Ben’s safety with them aboard. But at last Ben had convinced him that their threat was outweighed by their possible usefulness as hostages in running the blockade, and Elmo departed with his message for Tommy Whisk.
But now Ben was beginning to wish he had not been carried away. Convincing Elmo was easy.
Convincing himself was another story, because he knew too well that he had no magic to help him move through the blockade and in to Asteroid Central safe from attack.
All he had to help him was a black web belt around his waist. When they had first developed their plan, it had depended on the belt. The Searchers would surely be watching what they did, and the capsule in the belt was obviously a means of communication and control. If the Searchers would respond with the help Ben needed when he needed it, as they had promised they would, he knew he could run the blockade successfully. If the Searchers would not respond, everything would be lost.
But when they had tried to find the Searchers to tell them the plan, after Elmo Peterson had departed, they were nowhere to be found. The cleft in the rock was gone, and there was no sign of the great phantom ship. Except for one thing, Ben might have been convinced the Searchers were only a figment of his imagination, so completely had they disappeared. That one thing was the belt, with the capsule that still was vibrating ever so faintly against Ben’s side.