Part 27 (1/2)

c.o.xine looked at the first name on the ledger.

”Joe Brooks!” he called. ”One thousand credits for spotting the liner!”

Brooks grinned and amid cheers walked to the table. c.o.xine handed him a small stack of notes carelessly and turned back to the ledger.

”Gil Attardi!” he roared. ”One thousand credits for working on the boarding crew.”

Attardi, a sly, scar-faced man, stepped forward to accept his share. He carried a long, thin knife with an edge so deadly keen that he could and often did shave with it.

c.o.xine continued his roll call. ”Sam Bates! Five hundred credits.

Straight share.”

Bates stepped forward and glared at c.o.xine.

”How come I only get five hundred and the others get a thousand?” he snarled. ”It ain't my fault I'm stuck on the power deck while you grab all the glory jobs!”

The laughing, excited crowd of men grew silent as the rebellious s.p.a.ceman faced c.o.xine.

”You get five hundred credits,” snarled c.o.xine. ”Take it or leave it!”

”I want the same as Brooks and Attardi,” demanded Bates.

Quicker than the eye could follow, c.o.xine rose and smashed the man in the face with a giant fist. Bates dropped to the deck like a stone.

c.o.xine glared at the rest of the crew.

”The next crawler that thinks he's not getting his fair share,” he snarled, ”will get a trip in s.p.a.ce for his share!” He glanced down at the unconscious man and jerked his thumb toward the hatch. ”Get him out of here!”

Two men dragged the unconscious man away and threw a bucket of cold water on him. He woke up, s.n.a.t.c.hed at his share of the credits, and disappeared from the room.

The pirate captain continued reading the list of names, arbitrarily, handing out various amounts of the stolen money as he saw fit.

Standing in the rear of the messroom, hidden by the other members of the crew, Tom realized that to step in plain sight of Wallace and Simms for his share would mean instant betrayal. He had to make his move now, and with most of the crew mustered together in the messroom, it was his one chance for success.

Gripping the stolen paralo-ray gun in his jacket pocket, he slipped out of the messroom unnoticed and headed for the radar bridge.

As he raced up the companionway he could hear the laughter of the men below decks as one by one they received their shares. His name would be called soon. Heart pounding, he stopped outside the radar hatch, pulled the paralo-ray gun from his jacket, and taking a deep breath opened the hatch.

Joe Brooks was seated in front of the scanner counting his share greedily and glancing occasionally at the finger of light that swept across the green globe. When Tom opened the hatch, he looked up and smiled.

”Hiya, Kid,” he said. ”c.o.xine's all right. I got a thousand just for picking up that s.h.i.+p on the radar. How much did you collect?”

”This,” said Tom. He shoved the paralo-ray gun into Brooks' stomach. The man gulped and finally found his voice.

”Say, what is this? A gag? Where did you get that paralo-ray?” Then suddenly he shoved the bundle of notes in his pocket. ”Oh, no, you don't! You're not going to steal my share!”

”I don't want your money!” said Tom coldly. ”Get into that locker and keep your mouth shut, or I'll blast you!”

”Locker? Say, what's the matter with you? You gone s.p.a.ce happy?”

”Get in there,” growled Tom. At the look on the cadet's face, Brooks rose quickly and stepped into the locker. Tom slammed the door and locked it. Then, locking the pa.s.sageway hatch, he turned to the radar scanner. Working quickly with deft hands, he opened the casing around the delicate instrument and began disconnecting the major terminals.