The Space Rover
By Edwin K. Sloat
[Transcriber's note: This etext was produced from Astounding StoriesFebruary 1932. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that theU.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Young Winford heads a desperate escape from the prison mines ofMercury.
[Illustration: Winford leaped out into space along the cable.]
Evan Winford leaned wearily against the controls of the little spacesphere, and stared out of the window at the planet, Mercury, which lay amillion miles sunward. Fail now? He gritted his teeth. No! He wouldwrench victory from Fate after all, even though at this moment mineguards must be searching the nearby mountains, for him and hiscompanions, and a warning was being broadcast to all the planets andspace ships to watch the little prison tender ship, the one that wasused to transfer prisoners from liners out in space to Mercury and itsInterplanetary Council prison mines to which all who were sentenced cameon one-way tickets only. This was the first time, Winford reflectedgrimly, that the sphere had ever carried outbound passengers.
A long, quavering wail sounded from the hold below. Winford scowled.That fellow, Agar, again. Too bad, for he was unquestionably anengineering genius and thoroughly dependable when he didn't get one ofhis spells and imagine he was a godo-dog on the red steppes of hisnative Mars. A little rest and gentle treatment would unquestionablywork wonders. Again the wail, followed this time by a series of growls.
Winford slid open the door that separated the control nest from the holdof the little prison tender ship. The other five men had withdrawn tothe other side of the cabin and were watching listlessly the big,ragged, barrel-chested Martian crouching on all fours against the sideof the cabin and ferociously baring his teeth.
"What's the matter down there?" called Winford sharply.
Six pairs of eyes looked up at him. Agar forgot he was a dog and staredwith the rest. They were an unkempt, ragged lot with unshaven faces andthe dirty, white canvas uniforms of mine prisoners. The group wascomposed of four Martians and two Venusians.
"Let's go back," growled Nizzo, whose squat, powerful body and long armsbespoke his Venus ancestry. "It's death out here. No food. No water,excepting the emergency ration you have up there in the box. That willscarcely last till we can reach Mercury again. Now you tell us that thefuel is nearly exhausted. Let's go back. I say! We don't want to swingabout the Sun in this as our tomb for all eternity. At least we eat anddrink at the mines, even though the whips of the drivers hurry us on toan early death."
"You're crazy, Nizzo," harshly retorted Winford. "You know what they dowhen escaped prisoners are brought back, or come of their own free will.The Universe knows nothing of the caged saurians in the warden'sgardens, nor of the incorrigible prisoners that go to feed them. But Iknow—we all of us know. Far better to remain out here and die whole,than to be devoured alive by a slobbering horror."
A heated argument ensued among the men below. Presently Nizzo looked upagain.
"But you have no plan," he shouted at the Earthman. "We have followedyou blindly so far, and here we are off the traffic lanes. Our only hopeof being picked up now is one of space patrol ships. And short shriftmay we expect from them!"
Winford scowled impatiently.
"Listen, men," he began. "This is a desperate venture, I know, and Ipicked every one of you carefully. You are not common scum of the prisonmines. Every man of you can be depended