STAR PIRATE
By FREDERICK ARNOLD KUMMER, JR.
It meant death if Vance McClean ever returned
to Ceres. Still, a cool million in palladium
was tempting bait to that exiled star-pirate.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Summer 1940.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
It was cold that night, I remember. Cold and clear as ice. And althoughCeres has no moon ... it's hardly more than a satellite itself, ... thestarlight penetrated its thin, dustless atmosphere with surprisingbrilliance, throwing weird shadows across the icy plain.
Gazing through the window of the little administration building, Icould see the head of the mine shaft perhaps a mile away, and thehuts of the miners, all dark, for now that the rich vein of palladiumwas exhausted, my uncle had dismissed our workmen. The scene was afamiliar one to me. I had lived on the asteroid for fifteen years andmy recollections of earth, which I had left at the age of five, werehazy, a series of dream-like impressions of big buildings, green grass,and warm yellow sunlight.
I felt very lonely that evening with the workmen gone and my Uncle Johnat Verlis arranging for our passage to earth. Cerean Mining, Inc.,had paid well these fifteen years before the vein ran out; in thehuge wall-safe behind me were stacks of the gray ingots, Uncle John'sprofits over that period of time. Nearly a million dollars' worth inearth currency. He planned to take the precious metal back to earthwith him, where its sale would bring higher prices than on Ceres, thenretire on his hard-earned proceeds. He was paying my fare back toearth, gratis, and had arranged to get me a job there, which was morethan many uncles would have done for a needy and lonely nephew.
I was thinking about earth, as I sat there at the office desk, my backto the big wall safe, a heavy flame gun lying on the blotter beforeme. I was supposed to guard the palladium until Uncle John returned,though this was a mere formality. Ceres was too small for anyone to getvery far, and all the passenger liners leaving Verlis were thoroughlychecked. And even supposing some thief were to overcome me, force thehuge, triply-reinforced safe, he would find it hard, even in Ceres'light gravity, to carry off a million dollars' worth of palladium.So I wasn't greatly worried about playing guard; my thoughts werebusy trying to visualize earth, planning what I would do there when Iarrived.
About eleven o'clock, earth-time, however, I awoke with a start frommy day-dreaming. A light ... a lurid flickering light ... was dancingthrough the big glassex window. I leaped to my feet, gripping the flamegun, and peered out. A sleek, silvery little space-ship was settlingdown on the plain outside!
As I watched the ship ride in to land on its columns of fire, a vagueuneasiness filled me. Vessels weren't accustomed to put in at theCerean Mining field; especially swift little craft that were neitherslovenly freighters nor stately liners. Gun in hand, I stepped to thedoor of the administration building.
The ship had landed as lightly as a snowflake on the barren plain,switched off her rockets. The air-lock clanged open and two bulkyfigures in asbestoid jumpers swung down; so hot was the rock fromthe rocket exhausts that their lead-soled gravity shoes left silverypatches as they strode toward the administration building. One of themen, to judge from his build, was a Jovian, huge, squat, mighty-thewed;the oth