“Say, what are you afraid of—spooks?”
“Well, I don’t like this. They might at least have given us guns—”
“Look, get back here and lend a hand, huh? Or maybe you’d rather just sit and listen for bogeymen.”
They heard the footsteps shuffle back again. Slowly David dropped to his belly, began slithering along the wall toward the voices. He moved very slowly, then suddenly motioned to Tuck. Tuck dropped too, and moved clumsily along the rough ground until he was very close. “Right behind you,” he whispered.
“Good. The tunnel they dug through opens into this one about fifty feet from where they’re working. They haven’t got much light—if we move slow and quiet we might get past them. Careful!”
He started moving again, inching across the tunnel toward the black, raw hole that had been dug into the tunnel, around the cave-in. Tuck sneaked a look at the two burly workmen, toiling to get the sandbags thrown up to completely block the opening to the outside. Both were working in light, close-fitting pressure suits. They worked swiftly, grunting and cursing as they struggled with the bags. Tuck moved slowly, very slowly, desperately afraid some scratch, some joggled stone would rattle and betray them. But he suddenly saw David’s feet disappear into the darkness of the tunnel, and with his heart racing, he eased himself up over the lip of the newly dug hole, slithered through, and lay panting, his heart pounding in his throat.
“Made it!” David was on his feet, crouched over in the narrow cut. “We’d better make speed.”
“Where?”
“We can go back to the colony. There’s probably a sealed entrance to this tunnel, coming off one of the main tunnels. If we can get into a main tunnel, we’re all right—nobody can touch us. But if they catch us in here—” He solemnly drew his finger across the throat of the helmet. “Keep your fingers crossed.”
They moved slowly, using their lights only when they needed to. “I don’t think we need to worry about more Murexide,” David whispered. “The stuff is too dangerous to mess around with, if they’ve had men moving supplies through here. Probably the one booby trap was considered protection enough.” They hurried along as the tunnel started upgrading, winding slightly as they moved. Several times they passed through widened vaults, with cargo packed high against the walls; once they thought they heard steps ahead of them, and froze against the wall, only to realize that it was only rocks breaking loose from the roof and crunching down to the floor. Time passed, and still they walked, until Tuck began to doubt if they would ever reach the main tunnel. And then, like a flash, David dove for the floor. “Down, Tuck!”
Tuck fell like a poleaxed mule. He lay, face down, panting. Then he lifted his head, to confirm the glimpse of light that had struck his eyes a moment before.
There was no mistake. Ten feet ahead was a room, one of the widened vaults through which the tunnel passed. It had been dark, and then a light had suddenly gone on, almost in their faces. And in the room a man was pacing to and fro, his face lighted by the battle lamps in the vault, and he was talking in a loud, sharp, nasal voice that Tuck had heard once before, once too often.
The man was John Cortell.
Chapter 15
The Closing Ring
There was no doubt of the man’s identity. The thin, wiry frame, the pale hair, the narrow, hawk-like face—all were carved in Tucks memory from his first sight of John Cortell. The man was angry now, and he paced the room like a caged wildcat, his voice sharp in the still air.
“I don’t care if there were a thousand cave-ins, we’ve got to get moving, can’t you see that? As long as we’ve got the colony to fight them off, we’re doing fine, but how long do you think that can last?”
Another man’s voice came to the boys from inside, a man they could not see. His voice was quiet, almost weary, and he was saying, “John, we’ve done everything we can. Cave-ins happen, and this one just came at the wrong time—”
“It sure did! It came so much at the wrong time that it smells from here to Earth and back!”
“John, you’re getting nervous. You’re dreaming things.”
“Dreaming? With a cave-in in the one tunnel we have to have open?” The fugitive’s voice rose desperately. “I don’t like it. I’ve got a right to be nervous—”
“But nobody knows about it—they couldn’t, or you’d have that Earth snooper and his whole crew in here on our necks right now. Relax, John. It’ll just be a few more hours.”
“And that idiot Famham!” Cortell snarled. “Had to worry about Security catching up with him back on Earth—had to try to rub Benedict before he even left Earth—” He ran a nervous hand through his pale hair. “Too much has gone wrong. We could have left two days ago! We could be gone, and the whole lousy crowd of them would be finished, and there wouldn’t be a soul left to give Security a hint—”
Tuck listened, his confusion growing. He slowly edged his way back into the darkness, found David crouched close to the wall, listening. “Did you hear that? What’s he talking about?” he whispered.
He heard David’s breath, harsh in the darkness. “I don’t quite know. Listen.”
“But what is this place?”
“Looks like Cortell’s main hide-out. It makes sense. He knows dad couldn’t come for him here without giving away the whole works to the Colonel. And it’s handy for making the ship ready. Cortell’s no fool.”
“But what can we do? We can’t get through there into the colony—”
“That’s for sure. And we can’t go back.” David’s voice was edged with worry. “But they don’t know we’re here—and they don’t know we’re listening. And I want to hear the rest of this—” They moved in closer to the opening. Tuck’s mind was whirling, the thought screaming in his ears: your luck has run out, you’re caught here, trapped! He tried to force the thought out, but it wouldn’t force. They were caught—what if they hadn’t been discovered yet? It was only a matter of time until somebody came back through the tunnel. Tuck glanced nervously over his shoulder into the blackness, straining to hear some sound of footfalls. He tried to think what they could do if the workmen were to suddenly come back down the tunnel, and he found to his horror that he couldn’t even organize his thoughts—
“But we’ll have to move fast when the time comes, because if Torm and the others even get a hint of it beforehand, it’ll all be over.” Cortell’s voice was quieter now, but he still was pacing the narrow room. “We can’t take any chances on it. That’s one reason I’d like to see Torm killed now—with him gone, and maybe Ned Miller, they’d be running around like blind men. But on the other hand, it will be nice to think of him dying back here in the blowup, along with all the others—”
Tuck’s eyes widened in horror. He glanced back at David, caught a glimpse of his face in the dim light, and repressed a shudder, turning back to listen again.
“I’m not sure I like that so much, either, John,” the other man was saying. “The ship is outfitted for everyone. There’s enough—”
“Garbage!” Cortell burst out. “It would take another ten years to outfit it for five hundred people.” His voice lowered, almost confidentially. “Look, Dan, be reasonable. The supplies on that ship right now wouldn’t keep five hundred people alive for fifty years—not a chance in a million, not even if everyone would take cut rations and co-operate a hundred percent. And that’s the kicker—everyone won’t. With five hundred people on that ship, there’d be murder and violence every step of the way. With five hundred people aboard, it wouldn’t stand the breath of a chance.” He stared at his companion, an ugly grin on his face. “But for ten people—five men and five women—there’d be plenty of supplies, plenty of food, plenty of water—and enough for the children when they come.” Cortell sat down, nervously. “It’s the only smart way to do it.”