Destination: Saturn

XIV

With the phony Ajax and Emily at the controls, the giant planetoid-ship slowed on its retrojets and maneuvered into a stable orbit about the giant planet. Securing orbit for such a large and unwieldly vessel as Ajaxia was a slow, time-consuming process and it took the full attention of the two Saturnian spies—which left the Wuj to his own devices. And you may be sure he took full advantage of this opportunity to take certain steps unobserved.

When at last Ajaxia was in parking orbit, the two Saturnians relaxed, locked the controls and sat down to await the arrival of a Saturnian patrol. But they did not wait very long; the Wuj came scrambling into the control room, burbling with excitement.

“What is it? Slow down—I cannot make out a single word you are saying! What? Begin all over,” the pseudo-Ajax demanded of the excited little creature.

“Quickly! Come quickly, beloved master! Come and see the astonishing thing I have discovered!” the Wuj babbled, hopping about the control room excitedly.

“Well, what is it?” the pseudo-Emily snapped.

“Come—come and see! Oh, you will not believe it! Even I could hardly believe it, when I first discovered it—come—come along—I’ll show you—right through here—hurry, before it goes away!”

“Well, the Ring Patrol won’t arrive for some time yet, uh, Emily. Perhaps we had better see what this fellow discovered.”

“Very well, uh, Ajax. Let us go with him.”

Hopping about from one of his eight spidery legs to another the Wuj hustled and bustled them out of the bridge and down a corridor towards a seldom-used portion of the living quarters.

“Right through here—right through this door,” he wheezed and panted, green compound eyes revolving with suspenseful excitement. Grumbling a bit, the two Saturnian spies followed him through the door into a large square chamber with heavily-insulated walls. Across the chamber against the farther wall was a curious black box.

“That’s it! There—look at it—go ahead!” the Wuj panted. As they started across the room to investigate the odd container, the Wuj, unnoticed, slipped out of the door behind them and closed it softly. It shut gradually with a sigh of compressed air. This sound was followed by a humming drone, as motors starting up in the walls. The temperature began to drop with remarkable swiftness, although in their air-tight, plastic Earthman-body-suits, neither of the two Saturnian amoeboids could be aware of it just yet. Besides, their attention was diverted to the peculiar black box.

Gingerly, the pseudo-Ajax Calkins picked it up. It seemed remarkably light. He turned it over. It was just an empty packing crate, spray-painted with black rubberoid. The two Saturnians exchanged a puzzled look, and both turned around to question the Wuj, assuming that the little Martian was still standing behind them. To their considerable surprise they discovered he was not there; and to their consternation, the door was locked. Not just locked, but sealed airtight.

Although they could not know it, this particular chamber was a giant refrigerator, made for the storing of food. The insulated walls contained giant coolerant coils, capable of plunging the temperature of the interior of the chamber to remarkably low degree. Meat thus quick-frozen, could be perfectly preserved for months, even years.

It did not take “Ajax” or “Emily” very long to discover they had been tricked. The door would not open, despite everything they tried; nor would the Wuj answer them when they used the standard intercom mounted in every compartment of the ship. They were not terribly disturbed at all this, for they assumed the Wuj was only attempting to imprison them and keep them from permitting the Saturnian patrols to land and enter.

So—after futile attempts, to rouse the Wuj on the intercom, and several tries at opening the sealed door—the Saturnian disguised as Ajax Calkins reached up and removed the top of his head. It unscrewed as easily as the lid on a jar of mayonnaise. Once off, a deadly looking lens was revealed to view.

The pseudo-Ajax leaned over facing the door and from this lens a laser beam of superheat splattered over the door, frying off the enamel, and bit in, slowly burning through the tough metal.

“This won’t take long comrade,” said pseudo-Ajax to pseudo-Emily. “We’ll be out of here within minutes, then we’ll take care of that Wuj creature… we don’t need him any more. Within the hour, this planetoid and all the scientific mechanisms it contains will be possessions of the Saturnian Interplanetary Empire.”

Pseudo-Emily removed the top of her head too.

“Perhaps, comrade,” she gloated, “you will permit me the honor of being the one to sizzle the little Martian spider!”

Her compatriot graciously yielded.

Two laser beams dug into the door to the refrigerator room; and all the time, the temperature continued to drop…

The Wuj scuttled back to the bridge as fast as his eight legs could carry him. He arrived not a microsecond too soon, for already the Saturnian patrol was beaming a radio message to its newest moon, Ajaxia, demanding landing instructions.

The little Martian turned on the radio set.

“Independent Kingdom of Ajaxia,” he replied. “Who is calling, please?”

From the radio, came the harsh, grating voice of a Saturnian.

“Supreme Commander Grauschmitz speaking! Prepare for our immediate entry, and be sure all of the scientific treasures are ready for instantaneous transshipment!”

Struggling to think of a plan, the Wuj said feebly: “Sorry, no landing possible for forty-eight hours. Quarantine laws regarding immigration from one planet to another, you know, Commander.”

“Quarantine laws? What are you talking about, fool—we have no quarantine laws here on Saturn!”

“T-that may be, sir. But we have them here on Ajaxia. Forty-eight hours…”

From the set came a strangled series of weird sounds representing Saturnian profanity. When he had calmed down sufficiently, the Saturnian demanded: “Who is this speaking? Where are…”

“Prime Minister the Wuj, speaking for King Ajax and Miss Hackenschmidt. Both of whom are—ah—temporarily indisposed…”

“Indisposed, are they? I’ll ‘indispose’ them! Listen to me, you Prime Minister—this is Saturnian space and in this region of space, Saturnian laws are obeyed. Either permit us to land, or we will blow the planetoid-ship out of the sky! Answer—now!”

The Wuj wilted.

“V-very well. Just one moment…”

The little Martian set down the receiver. He got up from the pilot’s chair and spider-legged it over to one wall of the bridge. Here, hundreds of control panels of unknown purpose winked and twinkled away. No one knew what mechanisms these controls controlled; the Wuj reached out blindly… now was the time to find out!

His attention was caught by one particular control system. It was a series of large flat crimson pedals set in a circular blue board. Each large stud was labeled with the mysterious Asteroidal script, but that didn’t do any good. The Wuj recalled how he had accidentally activated this particular system one day while polishing the panels. Now on sheer impulse he reached out, and at random depressed one of the pedals.

Deep down in the central hold, a mysterious machine that was a system of odd-angled mirrors arranged about a central light projector—stirred into action! Mirrors clicked into new position; a humming arose from the multi-tube-studded globe at the center of the system; a beam of intense light shot from one of the tubes and impinged on one of the mirrors. From this mirror, fragments of the light-ray angled off into other mirrors set at various alignments and angles…

Out in space, the furious Saturnian commander glared at the vision screen depicting the planetoid-ship. Delays, delays, delays! What were they doing out there all this time? With a jerk of restless tendrils, the lump of protoplasm that was Supreme Commander Grauschmitz extruded two lips and a larynx, moulded by will from his consciously malleable amoeboid flesh. He was about to bellow angry commands into the radio transmitter when a flash of blinding light erupted from the vision screen. Extruding another eyestalk in amazement, the commander gawped in amazement.

The planetoid-ship had just vanished into empty space!