One of the dangers of the Asteroids is that they are not very dense. This can lead to an off-hand attitude in certain Crews who feel that their mathematical chances of collision are very small. Another problem is that different groups of Asteroids have different orbits. Certain groups of Asteroids have very eccentric orbits indeed, approaching very close to the Sun and out as far as the orbit of Jupiter and beyond. This means that danger can approach from many directions and not from just straight ahead. There were two lookouts in every watch now and their sole task was to locate and observe anything and everything which came near to the Ship.
Several sightings and subsequent avoiding manoeuvres were carried out in the first forty-eight hours. The sightings were of small rock fields, more like space debris than Asteroids, but dangerous nonetheless. The avoidance manoeuvre in a ship like Atlas was quite simple. The forward C.A.M.I.D. unit was set on to 'Repel' and the bulk of the vessel scattered the small rocks as the power was slowly increased.
Since the focal centre was set very close to the vessel there was no course change instigated as a result of these brief bursts of power. Soon the larger rock fields were finding their way onto the screen and the Captain now resorted to the auxiliary rocket motors for course correction which were far more suitable for this purpose; their response was quick and positive.
All of a sudden Neville looked up from his equipment with a puzzled frown on his face.
"Captain,” he called, “I am receiving a distress signal.” Michael tried to remain calm. “Can you identify the vessel?”
"Negative, Captain," replied Neville. "It is an old automatic 'Mayday' repeater. It is very faint but still discernible.”
“Is there anything on the screen, Mr. Rimmer'?” asked Michael curtly.
"There is a large rock field on bearing zero, three, zero, Sir, but I cannot make out any kind of craft at this range. It will be difficult with so many large rocks," replied the First Officer.
“O.K. we will go to full alert. Everybody man your stations. Charlie execute a course to intercept the rock field."
A ripple of excitement ran through the Crew as the off-duty personnel reported to their particular stations.
"Sergeant Brody," requested the Captain. "Yes, Sir.”
“Issue side arms to all personnel. We will take no chances.”
“Very well, Sir."
The Captain then went to his position next to the Co-pilot, Charlotte Linaker. "I hope I am not over-reacting, Charlie," whispered Michael, "but under the
circumstances I would much prefer to be safe than sorry."
"I couldn't agree more," said Charlie, "even though it would appear to be a fairly routine situation. It's probably some crazy, rock-hopping prospector who has run out of fuel, or something; I'm sure it must happen a lot."
"You're probably right," replied Michael. “But we are still an awful long way from a sizeable base, which makes the situation a little odd.”
“Captain….." This time it was Mr. Boothman . "Yes, David, what have you got?"
“I have a very large metallic mass on my scope which appears to be the source of the signal. "
"Can you identify anything yet?"
"Nothing definite yet, Sir. The large metallic mass seems to be an ore-rich rock of sizeable proportions.”
“Keep your eye on it and report back when you have something definite. Lookouts, you must be extremely vigilant from now on. We are looking for a craft in difficulties. Mr. Johnson, try and raise a response on the radio."
"Yes, Sir. I will leave all hailing channels open.”
The Atlas gently nosed her way towards the boulder field. The weapons had now been issued and medical supplies had been made ready by Alfred Brown, whose maintenance role also extended to the Crew; he was an experienced and highly qualified First-Aid man as well.
“I have located the source on the scope, Sir,” reported Mr. Boothman. "There is definitely a split image in front of the Asteroid….. could be a little two man craft. If he is a prospector he has come to the right place. The Asteroid is very rich in several ores, including Cobalt, and is well worth mining.”
“Any response, Mr. Johnson ?” asked the Captain . "None, Sir.”
“Stand by to heave to.”
Michael had made up his mind. He was duty bound to respond to a distress call, if only to switch off the beacon and dispose of the dead. He had a bad feeling about this one. The distances were not right; it was most unlikely that such a small craft would be so far from a major Base. However, some miners did silly things in search of that ‘Magic Rock’ which would make their fortune.
"Visual sighting. dead ahead, Sir,” called the lookout, Henry Hurst.
The Captain cut the speed again and the Atlas edged very slowly towards what really did appear to be a stricken craft. It was scorched quite badly down one side and the perspex domes were opaque, either from smoke damage or from distortion due to overheating. It was an old craft, at least fifty years thought Michael at first glance.
Henry Hurst called out again, "I can see a space suit tethered just below the rear hatch, but it shows no sign of life, Sir."
Michael was thinking fast. Was it just a case of a simple fire or had it been attacked?
"Any sign of a name or a registration number, Henry?"
“None on the parts I can see, Sir.”
Michael skilfully matched relative orbits with the other craft so that they were about one hundred and fifty yards apart.
“Sergeant Brody and Gary Mitchell prepare to board, please.”
They were ready in two minutes and assembled at the forward airlock. The Captain met them at the exit and picked up the intercom. "Mr. Rimmer, will you please get an accurate fix on this rock and have it memorized by the computer, I may wish to relocate it, also deactivate the hull defence system."
“Roger, Captain," came back Ben Rimmer' s voice from the intercom.
He replaced the intercom and spoke to the boarding party. “I want you to approach very cautiously and treat it as hostile. If there is any trouble I will get the Ship to Hell out of here and you must run for the rock and stay there until I return.”
“How shall we set the weapons, Sir?” asked Sergeant Brody.
"Mr. Mitchell will set on ‘Stun' and will enter first. You can set your weapon on 'Kill,’ Sergeant, but use it only if absolutely necessary. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Sir,” they both replied.
“Off you go then," urged the Captain. “Good luck and be careful."
The two men picked up their jet guns and stepped into the airlock. They exited separately to make a more difficult target and approached the wreck from two different directions. Sergeant Brody found the distress beacon and switched it off. Gary Mitchell traversed the hull until he reached the tethered space suit; gritting his teeth he braced himself and looked into the visor, fully expecting the worst.
“Sir, it's empty," he reported incredulously.
"Is the hatch open, Gary?” asked the Captain. "Yes, Sir,” replied Gary.
“Sergeant Brody this is the Captain. I do not like this situation, there cannot be anybody alive on board, return to the ship immediately. It looks too much like a decoy to… "
"Captain,” interrupted Mr. Rimmer. “I'm afraid we have company."
Sure enough a large vessel was slowly edging round from the back of the rock.
“Get those men back on board NOW,” shouted the Captain.
They needed no urging. The boarding party was already in the airlock and the outer door was closing, but it was too late. The trap had been sprung.
“Orders please, Sir,” requested Ben Rimmer .
"Hold station," replied the Captain. He watched fascinated as the dirtiest, ugliest and probably the oldest space ship he had ever seen slowly edged into view. Its menacing appearance was made worse by the enormous cannon which had been crudely welded onto the hull and was now pointing straight at them.
Michael rushed back to the bridge. "Mr. Johnson, try and raise this Devil on the radio and scramble a message to Company H.Q. informing them of the situation here."
"Negative, Captain, our signals are being jammed by a primitive but very effective jamming system," replied Mr. Johnson.
"Shall we make a run for it, Sir?” suggested Mr. Rimmer.
"We wouldn't have a chance if that cannon is operational and I suspect it is.”
“We are receiving a signal, Sir," said Mr. Johnson .
“Very well put it through the P.A. system so we can all hear it."
There was a crackle of static from the speakers, then a cultured voice said rather bluntly, "You are wondering if the Cannon is operational. Perhaps a small demonstration will convince you? There is a sizeable boulder some eight hundred yards off your Port side."
“I can see it, Sir," called Henry Hurst.
“The Cannon swivelled quickly round. There was a bright flash of light and the boulder, which must have weighed several tons, simply disappeared.
Michael considered the demonstration with professional interest. First of all it was a very good shot and secondly it proved that the Cannon was immensely powerful. Most of all he wished now that he had a similar weapon or some ship to ship missiles. Michael went over to the radio and took the microphone from Mr. Johnson, "Identify yourselves and state your intentions, please.”
Again came the crackle over the P.A. system. “This is the Captain of the space ship Black Swan. It is pointless to attempt any transmission for help and you have no chance of escaping without being destroyed. You must now consider yourselves to be my prisoners.”
Michael noticed that the Cannon was now pointing directly at the bridge again and looked very convincing. All his plans, all his training and all his vigilance had been wasted. He had walked straight into the trap with his eyes open. In fairness to himself, the trap had been cleverly set, an ore rich rock behind which the metallic bulk of the larger vessel had been concealed.
In retrospect Michael knew that he had made what was likely to be a fatal mistake. He should have launched his Moon Shuttle and done a recce without endangering the Atlas. It was all too obvious now, it was also too late.
The voice continued relentlessly, “I am sending across a single boarder who will be carrying my instructions. Stand by to receive him."
“Do you want him taken when he comes aboard, Sir?" asked Arnie Sidebottom.
"It would be as well to be prepared," mused the Captain. "See to it Arnie.”
Michael continued to rack his brains for a clever solution, but could not find one. Slowly the realisation came that he had lost round one and would have to bide his time and wait for round two. At that moment Arnie came onto the bridge with the boarder; he was not under guard.
"It looks like we came to the right place, Sir,” observed Arnie. "This is Mr. Calvert, the First Officer of the Hercules, the first vessel to go missing."
"Are you here of your own accord, Mr. Calvert ? " asked Michael gently.
"Certainly not, Sir. I am a prisoner and at the present time a very dangerous one. I am wired to explode should there be any sign of trickery," replied Calvert miserably.
“What instructions does the Captain of the Black Swan wish you to pass on?”
"He requires you to vacate this vessel and go to the other as his prisoners."
“And if we will not?”
"Then he will kill all our crew members, one every hour, to help you make up your mind. When they have gone he will then destroy you if you still refuse to conform.”
“How many prisoners has he got?” asked Michael. “About twenty, Sir.”
“Are they well cared for?”
“Yes. ...provided you comply with his wishes.”
“Why does he need prisoners?”
“He uses us to mine the ore. He is currently working a rock field, not too far from here, which is phenomenally rich in metals and crystal. There is another group which he mines which is even more wealthy but is apparently in a very eccentric orbit.”
“Who is he?”
“He wishes to tell you that himself, Sir.”
“How many crewmen, loyal ones that is, has he got?”
“Twelve including himself. It is sufficient, they are heavily armed and ruthless.”
The feeling of hopelessness increased. Mr. Calvert looked at his watch and spoke.
“Please may we make haste, Sir. If I am not back on board in seventeen minutes I will be exploded.”
“Are you convinced that this threat is not just so much hot air?” demanded Michael.
“Totally convinced, Sir, he only has to press a remote control button.” Michael came to a decision. “Prepare to abandon ship. Sergeant Brody, collect all the weapons and report to me directly. When it is done I want all the weapons accounted for and I don't want any attempts at trickery, at least not yet."
Five minutes later the crew were assembled at the forward airlock. Michael was not with them. He had gone down to the engine room. One of the pieces of security equipment in the system was a twelve digit power lock. When this lock was deactivated the C.A.M.I.D. units became inoperable and unless you knew the twelve digit sequence it was impossible to switch them on again. The only way of obtaining the combination would be to contact the Company H.Q. via the scrambled channel and ask for it. Unfortunately the voice would be checked by a security device and it would only be given to a bona fide Officer of the Company. It was unlikely that this would happen mused Michael as he deftly switched off the lock.
He moved quickly back to the airlock. "Abandon Ship... Mr. Rimmer and Miss Linaker will lead the way. Mr. Sidebottom and myself will leave last."
Michael was very reluctant to leave the ship and Arnie noticed the hesitation as he closed the airlock. "Never mind, Sir, we will soon be back... you'll see!"
Ten minutes later the crew were assembled outside the huge old rocket aptly named the Black Swan. As Michael studied it he began to realize that its odd appearance was due to the fact that it was several vessels joined together. It was not pretty but was probably very functional. The main body of the vessel was one of the early American interplanetary rockets and was about seventy five years old. It looked to Michael like a Class 'A' Space Clipper, one of the first passenger carrying vessels which operated mainly from space stations and rarely entered a planetary atmosphere. It had been a very successful vessel in its day.
Fifty percent of the main body of the rocket was devoted to fuel tanks and motors. In addition a cluster of pods around the lower half of the vessel also housed fuel. Michael had great admiration for these huge, wasteful vessels and a genuine respect for the integrity of the people who had built them and the early pioneers who had travelled on them.
Equally spaced around the main hull were six smaller vessels which had been attached to make one big conglomerate ship. The puzzle was that these were much more modern and were typical of the ships used by miners and prospectors to hop around the Asteroids. Needless to say they were also their permanent living quarters and so had some degree of comfort built into them along with all the necessities of life. In addition they had a spacious hold which could be stocked with ore and supplies which enabled the prospectors to eke out a meagre living, or, if you were lucky, an extremely lucrative business.
The mystery object was the huge Cannon mounted on the front of the vessel above the bridge. Michael knew he had seen one before but could not think where. Most modern armaments consisted of missiles or laser weapons but, none approached the size or power of this one. It simply was not necessary; anyway it was too late to worry now.
Michael looked back towards his ship knowing it could be for the last time. Even as a freighter she had a lovely line to her and it was with heavy heart that he stepped through the airlock into captivity. It was not so much the captivity which worried him but his complete sense of failure. He had let his Company down, not to mention his crew and he had played right into the hands of these people, whoever they were, just like a raw novice. It would be very hard to live with if, indeed, he was allowed to. He could deal with most things but not dishonour; it was completely alien to his nature.
The party was greeted by six, grinning, heavily armed guards who were the most villainous-looking crew you could imagine. They looked about as benevolent as the original Spanish Inquisitors.
“Welcome aboard,” said the largest of the group. “0ur Captain will meet you on the bridge. Take off your space suits and line up against the bulkhead. Don't try any tricks or you will be immediately disabled.”
Nobody doubted his intentions.