Free The Red Planet by Charles Chilton Page B

image Jet declared that it was definitely globe-shaped.
    It was about then that I managed to detect the object on the televiewer. It was exactly as Jet had said; globe-shaped, and the sun was lighting it up on one side. It was like a tiny planet. Maybe that’s what it was--or an asteroid at least.
    Soon all the ships were reporting that the object was globular, although nobody cared to make any guess at its size as yet. I heard Lemmy, who had just received the reports in from the freighters, telling Frank Rogers not to let the diameter of the thing worry him; in another hour he would probably be able to put a tape measure round it.
    Quite suddenly there was an exclamation from Mitch over at the telescope. “Strewth!” he yelled, “I know what this is. It’s a ship--a space ship!”
    “Eh?” said Lemmy in surprise.
    “Yes,” said Mitch. “It’s Number Six! The reason it looks globular in shape is that its crew cabin is facing us and the rest of the structure is blocked out.”
    “Let me get at that telescope,” demanded Jet. He peered into it steadily for a few minutes. At last he said: “Mitch is right. She’s still very small but no other object in the heavens could look like that. And we’re overtaking her rapidly. In an hour or so we’ll be passing her.”
    “I’ll say we will,” said Mitch, “at a thousand miles an hour.”
    “Not if we slow down,” said Jet. “We could drop down to her speed and coast alongside her.”
    “What--the whole Fleet?” protested the engineer. “Think of the fuel consumption.”
    “No,” said Jet, “not the whole Fleet. Just us--the Dis covery.” Then, as Mitch looked at him blankly, he added, almost pleadingly: “Look, Mitch. Whitaker is aboard that ship. I want to know why he went speeding off on his own, and why he sent us that stupid message that was supposed to be from Control. Above all, I want to know what’s happened to Peterson.”
    “All right,” said Mitch. “If that’s what you say we do, we do it.”
    Leaving the Fleet in the care of Frank Rogers, the pilot of Freighter Number Two, Jet gave us our orders for turning the Discovery over, which was necessary before we could bring the motor into play and slow the ship down. It was an extremely tricky manoeuvre but we managed it and soon we were coasting alongside the wayward freighter. We looked at her image on the televiewer but nothing we saw gave us any clue as to what drama might be taking place aboard her.
    “All right, Doc,” Jet said to me at last, “put your suit on.”
    “Eh?” said Lemmy. “Now wait a minute, Jet. You don’t intend going over there, do you? Not before you know everything’s all right in that ship?”
    “What other choice have we, Lemmy?”
    “But the door isn’t even on this side. Before you reach it you’ll have to pass out of our sight.”
    “The personal radios will be on. You can talk to us.”
    “Well, if you say so,” Lemmy agreed reluctantly. “But I tell you, mate, I don’t like it. It may be a trick just to get you in there.”
    “That’s a chance we’ll have to take,” Jet told him. “Doc,” he said to me as I finished fastening my suit, “let’s go.”
    “Hatch opening,” said Lemmy resignedly, and pressed the control.
    There was a click, a hiss of air and the circular door which led to the airlock slowly opened.
    Our manoeuvre of slowing down the Discovery and bringing her alongside Number Six had been carried out so well that less than fifty yards separated the two ships. It was, consequently, an easy matter for Jet and I to drift over to the freighter and secure ourselves to it. To reach the main door, however, it was necessary for us to walk round the hull. Jet led the way.
    We climbed over the ship and down the other side while Mitch gave us a commentary on how we looked from the Discovery. Of course, as we neared the far side we were lost to Mitch’s view and he announced the fact the moment we disappeared. Then came an