“You _fool_!!” spat out Zimbardo through gritted teeth. “I don’t need to
see any more! I know who we’ve got now! How could you miss seeing that
the three Starmen who completely destroyed our plans on Mars were your
passengers for three days! _How could you miss it??_” He was shouting
now. “_They’ve been on the news for two weeks! How--_” Zimbardo paused
and tried hard to get control of himself. “They were our _prisoners_!
--and now they’ve escaped! They’re loose inside this asteroid, and we
don’t know where!”
“But sir,” inserted Lather when Zimbardo paused to take a breath and
clutch the air. “There aren’t many places they can hide. There’s not
much to the inside of the complex--only five floors.”
Zimbardo turned to the ship captain. With words that smoldered, he said,
“The complex of this asteroid is far larger than you think! I have
barely begun to explore, and St. George knows more than I do!”
Back in control now, Zimbardo punched his desk communicator. “Gene! Get
a search party together and have them scour every part of the asteroid
they can find.” He filled in the details about the Starmen. But he knew
that neither the miners nor the Starmen would be found. With George St.
George leading them, they could be anywhere--anywhere but where his men
would be able to search.
* * * * *
Mark came out of a deep sleep into a light doze. He knew he was
sleeping, but he was also mindful of his surroundings. It gradually
washed through him that he was hearing voices. Two voices were
conversing in very low tones, far away. He had a feeling that the air
was thick and the sound had to struggle to get to him. He became aware
of his eyelids, and they fluttered. Fully conscious but deeply relaxed
now, he slowly opened his eyes. He saw only darkness, but it was not
absolute.
He turned his head slowly to the left. Through an open door, about
twenty feet away along a corridor were two tall, vaguely humanoid beings
wrapped in shadows. Mark’s heart leaped and began to race, but outwardly
he showed no trace that he was alert. His eyes narrowed in an attempt to
see more clearly. He knew instinctively that the creatures were alien.
They walked in utter silence and stepped into the room. Mark lay frozen.
They looked around for a few seconds, then went back into the corridor
to the place where he had first seen them. They manifested no ill intent
toward the sleepers.
The figures began conversing in low voices. Mark sensed a deep sadness
in their tone. He strained to hear what they were saying, what their
words sounded like.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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