Read Online Lucky Starr and the Big Sun of Mercury by Isaac Asimov - Free Book Online
Authors: Isaac Asimov
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theory."
Bigman was disappointed. "You mean there's nothing down here in the mines?"
"I could be wrong. But I agree with Dr. Cook. It is just too unlikely that Sirius would put all the effort that would be involved in setting up a secret base on Mercury just to achieve a bit of sabotage. It would be much more likely that, if they wanted to do such a thing, they would bribe an Earthman to do it. After all, who slashed the inso-suit? That, at least, can't be blamed on Sirians. Even Dr. Peverale hasn't suggested there are Sirians inside the Dome."
"Then you're looking for a traitor, Lucky?"
"I'm looking for the saboteur. He may be a traitor in the pay of Sirius, or he may be working for reasons of his own. I hope the answer is on the Sun-side. And I hope, furthermore, that my smoke screen concerning an invasion of the mines will keep the guilty person from having time to cover up or from preparing an uncomfortable reception for me."
"What answer do you expect?"
"I'll know when I find it."
"Okay," said Bigman. "I'm sold, Lucky. On our way. Let's go."
"Hold on, there," cried Lucky in honest perturbation. "Great Galaxy, boy! I said
I'm
going. There's only one inso-suit. You'll stay here."
For the first time, the significance of the pronouns Lucky had used sank into Bigman's consciousness. Lucky had said "I," "I." Not once had he said "we." And yet Bigman, with the easy confidence of long association, had assumed that "I" meant "we."
"Lucky!" he cried, torn between outrage and dismay. "Why do I have to stay?"
"Because I want the men at the Dome to be sure that we're here. You keep the chart and follow the route we talked about or something like it. Report back to Cook every hour. Tell them where you are, what you see, tell the truth; you don't have to make anything up-except that you say I'm with you."
Bigman considered that. "Well, what if they want to talk to you?"
"Tell them I'm busy. Yell that you think you've just seen a Sirian. Say you've got to cut off. Make up something, but keep them thinking I'm here. See?"
"All right. Sands of Mars, you'll go to Sun-side and have all the fun, and I'll just wander around in the dark playing games on the suit radio."
"Cheer up, Bigman, there
may
be something in the mines. I'm not always right."
"I'll bet you are this time. There's
nothing
down here."
Lucky couldn't resist a joke. "There's the freezing death Cook spoke about. You could investigate that."
Bigman didn't see the humor. He said, "Aw, shut up."
There was a short pause. Then Lucky placed his hand on the other's shoulder. "All right, that wasn't funny, Bigman, and I'm sorry. Now cheer up, really. We'll be together again in no time. You know that."
Bigman pushed Lucky's arm to one side. "All right. Drop the soft soap. You say I've got to do it, so I'll do it. Only you'll probably get sunstroke without me there keeping an eye on you, you big ox."
Lucky laughed. "I'll try to be careful." He turned down tunnel 7a but had not taken two steps when Bigman called out.
"Lucky!"
Lucky stopped. "What?"
Bigman cleared his throat. "Listen. Don't take stupid chances, will you? I mean, I'm not going to be around to drag you out of trouble."
Lucky said, "Now you sound like Uncle Hector. Suppose you take some of your own advice, eh?"
It was as close as they ever got to expressing their real affection for one another. Lucky waved his hand and stood glimmering for a moment in Bigman's suit-light. Then he turned and went off.
Bigman looked after him, following his figure as it gradually melted into the surrounding shadows until it turned about a curve in the tunnel and was lost to him.
He felt the silence, and the loneliness doubled. If he had not been John Bigman Jones, he might have weakened with the sense of loss, been overwhelmed at finding himself alone.
But he was John Bigman Jones, and he set his jaw and clamped his teeth and marched farther down the main shaft with unshaken tread.
Bigman made his first call to the
Bigman was disappointed. "You mean there's nothing down here in the mines?"
"I could be wrong. But I agree with Dr. Cook. It is just too unlikely that Sirius would put all the effort that would be involved in setting up a secret base on Mercury just to achieve a bit of sabotage. It would be much more likely that, if they wanted to do such a thing, they would bribe an Earthman to do it. After all, who slashed the inso-suit? That, at least, can't be blamed on Sirians. Even Dr. Peverale hasn't suggested there are Sirians inside the Dome."
"Then you're looking for a traitor, Lucky?"
"I'm looking for the saboteur. He may be a traitor in the pay of Sirius, or he may be working for reasons of his own. I hope the answer is on the Sun-side. And I hope, furthermore, that my smoke screen concerning an invasion of the mines will keep the guilty person from having time to cover up or from preparing an uncomfortable reception for me."
"What answer do you expect?"
"I'll know when I find it."
"Okay," said Bigman. "I'm sold, Lucky. On our way. Let's go."
"Hold on, there," cried Lucky in honest perturbation. "Great Galaxy, boy! I said
I'm
going. There's only one inso-suit. You'll stay here."
For the first time, the significance of the pronouns Lucky had used sank into Bigman's consciousness. Lucky had said "I," "I." Not once had he said "we." And yet Bigman, with the easy confidence of long association, had assumed that "I" meant "we."
"Lucky!" he cried, torn between outrage and dismay. "Why do I have to stay?"
"Because I want the men at the Dome to be sure that we're here. You keep the chart and follow the route we talked about or something like it. Report back to Cook every hour. Tell them where you are, what you see, tell the truth; you don't have to make anything up-except that you say I'm with you."
Bigman considered that. "Well, what if they want to talk to you?"
"Tell them I'm busy. Yell that you think you've just seen a Sirian. Say you've got to cut off. Make up something, but keep them thinking I'm here. See?"
"All right. Sands of Mars, you'll go to Sun-side and have all the fun, and I'll just wander around in the dark playing games on the suit radio."
"Cheer up, Bigman, there
may
be something in the mines. I'm not always right."
"I'll bet you are this time. There's
nothing
down here."
Lucky couldn't resist a joke. "There's the freezing death Cook spoke about. You could investigate that."
Bigman didn't see the humor. He said, "Aw, shut up."
There was a short pause. Then Lucky placed his hand on the other's shoulder. "All right, that wasn't funny, Bigman, and I'm sorry. Now cheer up, really. We'll be together again in no time. You know that."
Bigman pushed Lucky's arm to one side. "All right. Drop the soft soap. You say I've got to do it, so I'll do it. Only you'll probably get sunstroke without me there keeping an eye on you, you big ox."
Lucky laughed. "I'll try to be careful." He turned down tunnel 7a but had not taken two steps when Bigman called out.
"Lucky!"
Lucky stopped. "What?"
Bigman cleared his throat. "Listen. Don't take stupid chances, will you? I mean, I'm not going to be around to drag you out of trouble."
Lucky said, "Now you sound like Uncle Hector. Suppose you take some of your own advice, eh?"
It was as close as they ever got to expressing their real affection for one another. Lucky waved his hand and stood glimmering for a moment in Bigman's suit-light. Then he turned and went off.
Bigman looked after him, following his figure as it gradually melted into the surrounding shadows until it turned about a curve in the tunnel and was lost to him.
He felt the silence, and the loneliness doubled. If he had not been John Bigman Jones, he might have weakened with the sense of loss, been overwhelmed at finding himself alone.
But he was John Bigman Jones, and he set his jaw and clamped his teeth and marched farther down the main shaft with unshaken tread.
Bigman made his first call to the
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