The Scavengers Of Space

: Gold In The Sky

The casual observer might have been fooled. Tawney's guard was down only

for an instant; then the expression of cold fury and determination on

his face dropped away as though the shutter of a camera had clicked, and

he was all smiles and affability. They were honored guests here, one

would have thought, and this pudgy agent of the Jupiter Equilateral

combine was their genial host, anxious for their welfare, eager to do

anything he could for their comfort....



They were amazed by the luxuriousness of the ship. For the next few

hours they received the best treatment, sumptuous accommodations,

excellent food.



They were finishing their second cup of coffee when Tawney asked,

"Feeling better, gentlemen?"



"You do things in a big way," Johnny said. "This is real coffee, made

from grounds. Must have cost a fortune to ship it out here."



Tawney spread his hands. "We keep it for special occasions. Like when we

have special visitors."



"Even when the visits aren't voluntary," Greg added sourly.



"We have to be realistic," Tawney said. "Would you have come if we

invited you? Of course not. You gentlemen chose to come out to the Belt

in spite of my warnings. You thus made things very awkward for us, upset

certain of our plans." He looked at Greg. "We don't ordinarily allow

people to upset our plans, but now we find that we're forced to include

you in our plans, whether you happen to like the idea or not."



"You're doing a lot of talking," Greg said. "Why don't you come to the

point?"



Tawney was no longer smiling. "We happen to know that your father struck

a rich lode on one of his claims."



"That's interesting," Greg said. "Did Dad tell you that?"



"He didn't have to. A man can't keep a secret like that, not for very

long. Ask your friend here, if you don't believe me. And we make it our

business to know what's going on out here. We have to, in order to

survive."



"Well, suppose you heard right. The law says that what a man finds on

his own claim is his."



"Certainly," Tawney said. "Nobody would think of claim-jumping, these

days. But when a man happens to die before he can bring in his bonanza,

then it's a question of who gets there first, wouldn't you think?"



"Not when the man is murdered," Greg said hotly, "not by a long shot."



"But you can't prove that your father was murdered."



"If I could, I wouldn't be here."



"Then I think we'll stick to the law," Tawney said, "and call it an

accident."



"And what about my brother? Was that an accident?"



"Ah, yes, your brother." Tawney's eyes hardened. "Quite a different

matter, that. Sometimes Doc tends to be over-zealous in carrying out his

assigned duties. I can assure you that he has been ... disciplined."



"That's not going to help Tom very much."



"Unfortunately not," Tawney said. "Your brother made a very foolish

move, under the circumstances. But from a practical point of view,

perhaps it's not entirely a tragedy."



"What do you mean by that?"



"From what I've heard," Tawney said, "you didn't have much use for your

twin brother. And now you certainly won't have to share your father's

legacy...."



It was too much. With a roar Greg swung at the little fat man. The blow

caught Tawney full in the jaw, jerked his head back. Greg threw his

shoulder into a hard left, slamming Tawney back against the wall. The

guard charged across the room, dragging them apart as Tawney blubbered

and tried to cover his face. Greg dug his elbow into the guard's

stomach, twisted away and started for Tawney again. Then Johnny caught

his arm and spun him around. "Stop it," he snapped. "Use your head,

boy...."



Greg stopped, glaring at Tawney and gasping for breath. The company man

picked himself up, rubbing his hand across his mouth. For a moment he

trembled with rage. Then he gripped the table with one hand, forcibly

regaining his control. He even managed a sickly smile. "Just like your

father," he said, "too hot-headed for your own good. But we'll let it

pass. I brought you here to make you an offer, a very generous offer,

and I'll still make it. I'm a businessman, when I want something I want

I bargain for it. If I have to share a profit to get it, I share the

profit. All right ... you know where your father's strike is. We want

it. We can't find it, so you've got us over a barrel. We're ready to

bargain."



Greg started forward. "I wouldn't bargain with you for...."



"Shut up, Greg," Johnny said.



Greg stared at him. The big miner's voice had cracked like a whip; now

he was drawing Merrill Tawney aside, speaking rapidly into his ear.

Tawney listened, shot a venomous glance across at Greg, and finally

nodded. "All right," he said, "but I can't wait forever...."



"You won't have to."



Tawney turned to the guard. "You have your orders," he said. "They're to

have these quarters, and the freedom of the ship, except for the outer

level. They're not to be harmed, and they're not to be out of your sight

except when they're locked in here. Is that clear?"



The guard nodded. Tawney looked at Johnny, and started for the door,

still rubbing his jaw. "We'll talk again later," he said, and then he

was gone.



When the guard had left, and the lock buzzed in the door, Johnny looked

at Greg and shook his head sadly. "You just about fixed things, boy, you

really did. You've got to use your head if you want to stay alive a

while, that's all. Look, there isn't going to be any bargaining with

Tawney, he just doesn't work that way. It's heads he wins, tails we

lose. Once he has what he wants we won't last six minutes. All right,

then there's just one thing that can keep us alive ... stalling him.

We've got to make him think you'll give in if he plays his cards right."



Greg was silent for a minute. "I hadn't thought of it that way."



"And we've got to use the time we have to find some way to break for

it." Johnny stood up, staring around the luxurious lounge. "If you want

my opinion, it's going to take some pretty fancy footwork to get out of

here with our skins."



* * * * *



True to his word, Tawney had given them the freedom of the ship. Greg

and Johnny discovered that their guard was also an excellent guide. All

day he had been leading them through the ship, chatting and answering

their questions about asteroid mining, until they almost forgot that

they were really prisoners here. And the guard's obvious pride in the

scope and skill of his company's mining operations was strangely

infectious.



Watching the Jupiter Equilateral ship in operation, Greg felt his heart

sink. Here was a huge, powerful organization, with all the equipment and

men and know-how they could ever need. How could one man, or two or

three in a team, hope to compete with them? For the independent miner,

the only hope was the Big Strike, the single lode that could make him

rich. He might work all his life without finding it, and then stumble

upon it by sheer chance....



But if he couldn't keep it when he found it, then what? What if the

great mining company became so strong that they could be their own law

in the Belt? What if they grew strong enough and powerful enough to

challenge the United Nations on Mars itself, and gain control of the

entire mining industry? What chance would the independent miner have

then?



It was a frightening picture. Suddenly something began to make sense to

Greg; he realized something about his father that he had never known

before.



Roger Hunter had been a miner, yes. But he had been something else too,

something far more important than just a miner.



Roger Hunter had been a fighter, fighting to the end for something he

believed in....



Tawney interrupted Greg's thought.



"Quite an operation," he said.



Greg looked at him. "So I see."



"And very efficient, too. Our men have everything they need to work

with. We can mine at far less cost than anyone else."



"But you still can't stand the idea of independent miners working the

Belt," Greg said.



Tawney's eyebrows went up. "But why not? There's lots of room out here.

Our operation with Jupiter Equilateral is no different from an

independent miner's operation. We aren't different kinds of people."

Tawney smiled. "When you get right down to it, we're both exactly the

same thing ... scavengers in space, vultures picking over the dead

remains to see what we can find. We come out to the asteroids, and we

bring back what we want and leave the rest behind. And it doesn't matter

whether we've got one ship working or four hundred ... we're still just

scavengers."



"With just one difference," Greg said, turning away from the viewscreen.



"Difference?"



Greg nodded. "Even vultures don't kill their own," he said.



* * * * *



Later, when they were alone in their quarters again, Greg and Johnny

stared at each other gloomily.



"Didn't you see anything that might help us?" Greg said.



"Not much. For an orbit-ship, this place is a fortress. I got a good

look at that scout ship coming in ... it was armed to the teeth.

Probably they all are. And they're keeping a guard now at every

airlock."



"So we're sewed up tight," Greg said.



"Looks that way. They've got us, boy, and I think Tawney's patience is

wearing thin, too. We're either going to have to produce or else."



"But what can we do?"



"Start bluffing."



"It seems to me we're just about bluffed out."



"I mean talk business," Johnny said. "Tell Tawney what he wants to

know."



"When we don't know any more than he does? How?"



Johnny Coombs scratched his jaw. "I've been thinking about that," he

said slowly, "and I wonder if we don't know a whole lot more than we

think we do."



"Like what?" Greg said.



"We've all been looking for the same thing ... a Big Strike, a bonanza

lode. Tawney's men have raked over every one of your Dad's claims, and

they haven't turned up a thing." Johnny looked at Greg. "Makes you

wonder a little, doesn't it? Your Dad was smart, but he was no magician.

And how does a man go about hiding something like a vein of ore?"



"I don't know," Greg said. "It doesn't seem possible."



"It isn't possible," Johnny said flatly. "There's only one possible

explanation, and we've been missing it all along. Whatever he found, it

wasn't an ore strike. It was something else, something far different

from anything we've been thinking of."



Greg stared at him. "But if it wasn't an ore strike, what was it?"



"I don't know," Johnny said. "But I'm sure of one thing ... it was

something important enough that he was ready to die before he'd reveal

it. And that means it was important enough that Tawney won't dare kill

us until he finds out what it was."