e aliens ..."
"Maybe not so loathsome," Tom said miserably. "I just don't know. Maybe
their cause is as just to them as ours is to us. But they're determined
to reach Mars before we do--before you do! And they'll do anything to
make sure--"
The colonel stood up. "But I'm afraid that question is academic, Mr.
Blacker. Because if our calculations are right, an Earth vessel will be
on the planet Mars within the next thirty-six hours."
"What?"
"No announcement has been made. But a Mars-bound ship was launched
almost a month ago, containing seven members of the space commission.
Our last radio contact with Captain Wright leads us to expect--"
"_Who?_" Tom was on his feet.
"Captain Gary Wright, the commander of the ship." His brow knitted.
"Why? Do you know him?"
"I'm not sure," Tom said weakly. "But if he's the same man--then that
flight's in danger."
"What are you talking about?"
* * * * *
Tom concluded his story about the death of the Homelovers treasurer,
down to the last detail of the framed photograph on Wright's desk. The
tale brought Colonel Mordigan into immediate action. He buzzed for his
orderly, and in another minute, was fumbling through a folder marked
Classified.
"Yes," he said numbly. "It's the same man. Father's named Benjamin
Wright, and he's vice-president and treasurer of Homelovers,
Incorporated. I never connected the two ..." He looked up, his eyes
heavy. "If your story is true, Mr. Blacker, then Captain Wright is one
of these so-called Antamundans. And if their mission is what you say it
is--"
Tom clenched his fists on the blotter. "Please, sir! Let me stay here
until the flight is concluded. After that, you can do what you like."
"All right," Mordigan said wearily. "I'll fix you up with something in
the officer's quarters. But I'm sure you're wrong, Mr. Blacker. You
_have_ to be."
Twenty-four hours later, radio contact with the Mars expeditionary ship
ceased abruptly.
From Mt. Wilson observatory, a hurried message arrived, reporting a
small, brief nova in the orbital vicinity of the planet Mars.
Tom Blacker, dozing fitfully on a cot in the quarters of a grumpy
Lieutenant-Colonel, was awakened suddenly, and summoned to the office of
Colonel Grady Mordigan.
"Very well, Mr. Blacker," the colonel said stiffly. "I'm willing to
help. Just tell me what you want me to do."
* * * * *
The receptionist smil
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