struck down by his childhood companion, Jack Starr.
"Jack! Jack! What have you done?" he raved like a madman suddenly. "No, Jack! You didn't do it. They did it. They made you. They are responsible, not you. Who are they? What are they? Jack! Jack! Tell me, Jack! You must!"
But as the speaker resumed its unfeeling, guttural rumbling, Starr clenched his teeth, maintaining an attitude of forced calm.
". . . The city is very close now. . . . Our work is almost done. . . . What am I—that thing—doing? Talking, yes. But to whom?. . . Radio!. . . I must smash it. . . . No. . . . No. . . . Yes!. . . . I must smash it. . . . How?. . . . That wrench!. . . . No. . . . Grasp it. . . . No. . . . Grasp it!. . . No. . . . Grasp it, you idiot!. . . No. . . . Now, lift it. . . . No. . . . Struggle—go on, struggle!. . . Higher. . . . Higher. . . . No. . . . Now. . . . Smash it. . . . No!. . . Smash it!. . . No!. . . Smash it. . . . Smash it!. . . SMASH IT. . . . SMA—"
Crash! The speaker fell silent. Captain Starr, his face sickly white, looked at Lieutenant Smith. "Jack is still alive," he hissed through clenched teeth. "He will be alive for three weeks. But is he still human?"
3. To the Rescue
THE next morning, after a sleepless night, Starr sat in his office thinking. His first wave of emotion was over now. He felt numbed, nerve-deadened. Except his brain. Like a tiny flame burning in ice it was. Plan after plan ran through his mind only to be torn to shreds and discarded.
Nothing mattered but go get to the Moon City where Jack was held prisoner. But how was he to get to the satellite's inner world? If he only had a ship!
The only other ship at the Moon Station at that time was the old hulk, La Belle France; and she was being patched up for transport use in the mines. The mines! He had it! Ore-carriers! One of them should be his ship. He sprang to his feet and dashed to the communications room.
Smith was just relieving his sergeant on "night" shift when Starr entered the room. At sight of his captain, the radioman saluted, then stood stiffly at attention, awaiting orders.
"Get me the mines, quick!" roared Starr. "Any mine! So long as they have some sort of ore-carrier or—"
Smith was not listening. He was busy at the televisor, working a number. "Here you are, sir," he exclaimed as soon as a face appeared on the screen.
It took but a moment for Starr to order the fastest ore-car to be brought to headquarters immediately. As he plugged off the set, Smith, eyes bright with anticipation, said:
"Starr! Can I go?"
Captain Starr glanced witheringly at the lieutenant. "You are supposed to be working for the T. S. L.!" he barked.
"Yes, sir!"
Smith sprang up and saluted smartly. But he was grinning with joy. His captain was over his hopeless spell. He was now a fighting man again. Action was all he craved!
"Stop grinning, you idiot!" thundered Starr, but he was smiling himself. His arm shot out, clenched itself tightly on Smith's shoulder. "You bet you can go. And we'll bring Jack back with us, won't we?"
While the two waited for the arrival of the ore-car, Starr discussed with his lieutenant the feasibility of finding Jack and rescuing him. Captain Starr had now become convinced that the feat would not
