The Revolt on Venus by Carey Rockwell (bill gates book recommendations TXT) 📕

"I've known about them all along, of course," said the foreman. "But I never paid any attention to them. I just quit, like Mr. Sinclair, when they started all that tomfoolery about wearing uniforms and stuff."

"Well," said Connel, accepting a wedge of pie at Mrs. Hill's insistence, "now they've made the wrong move. Burning Sinclair's property and attacking an officer of the Solar Guard is going too far."

"What are you going to do about it?" asked George.

"I'm not at liberty to say, Mr. Hill," replied Connel. "But I can tell you this. When any person, or group of persons, tries to dictate to the Alliance, the Solar Guard steps in and puts a stop to it!"

Suddenly the silence of the jungle clearing was shattered by the roar of a single jet craft coming in for a landing. Without looking out the window, George smiled and said, "There's Mr. Sinclair now! I know the sound of his jets."

The group crowded out onto the front porch while George took the jet car and drove off to pick up his employer. A few moments later Sinclair was seated before Connel, wiping his sweating brow and accepting a cool drink from Mrs. Hill.

"I was on my way to the north boundary when I saw your ship landing," explained Sinclair. "At first I thought it might be those devils coming back, but then I saw the Solar Guard insigne on the ship and figured it might be you." He looked at Connel closely. "Anything new, Major?"

"Not yet," replied Connel. "But you can rest assured that you won't be bothered by them again."

Sinclair paused, eying the major speculatively. "You know, as soon as you left, I went over to talk to Al Sharkey. I was plenty mad and really blasted him, but he swears that he was in Venusport at the time and doesn't know a thing about the raid."

Connel nodded. "That's true. We checked on him. But while he might not have been in on the raid itself, there's nothing that says he didn't order it done!"

"I doubt it," said Sinclair, with a queer apologetic note in his voice. "I'm inclined to believe that it was nothing more than a bunch of the younger, more hotheaded kids in the organization. As a matter of fact, Sharkey told me he was quitting as president. Seems you fellows in Venusport scared him plenty. Not only that, but I heard him calling up the other planters telling them what happened and every one of them is chipping in to rebuild my plantation."

Connel looked at the planter steely-eyed. "So you think it was done by a bunch of kids, huh?"

Sinclair nodded. "Wouldn't be surprised if they're not scared too!"

"Well, you are entitled to your opinion, Mr. Sinclair. And if the other planters are going to rebuild your buildings, that's fine and charitable of them." Suddenly Connel's voice became harsh. "That does not, however, erase the fact that a group of uniformed men, armed with paralo-ray guns and with ships equipped with blasters, attacked you! Atomic blasters, Mr. Sinclair, are not bought at the local credit exchange. They are made exclusively for the Solar Guard! That bunch of hotheaded kids, as you call them, are capable of attacking any community—even ships of the Solar Guard itself! That is a threat to the peace of the solar system and must be stopped!"

Sinclair nodded quickly. "Oh, I agree, Major, I agree. I'm just saying that—"

Connel stopped him. "I understand, Mr. Sinclair. You're a peaceful man and want to keep your life peaceful. But my job is to ensure that peace. As long as a group of militant toughs like we had here are on the loose, you won't have peace. You'll have pieces!"

Tom, Roger, and Astro, sitting quietly and listening, felt like standing up and cheering as the major finished.

"I know you can't tell me what you're going to do, Major Connel," said the planter, "but I hope that you'll allow me to help in any way I can."

Connel hesitated before answering. "Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. But I'm not here officially now." And then he added, "Nor in regard to the Nationalists."

Sinclair's eyes lit up slightly. "Oh?"

"No. As you know, the cadets had quite a time with a tyrannosaurus. They wounded it and it might still be dangerous. That is, more dangerous than normally. I've got orders to track him down and finish him off."

"But I thought you said you were going to put a stop to this business with the Nationalists," said the planter.

"I said the Solar Guard would, Sinclair."

"Oh, yes," mumbled Sinclair, "the Solar Guard. Of course."

Connel got up abruptly. "I would appreciate it if you would look after our ship, though," he said. "I don't think we'll be longer than a week. Shouldn't be hard to track a tyrannosaurus, especially if it's wounded."

"I suppose you have all the equipment you need," said Sinclair.

"Yes, thank you," replied Connel. Then, thanking Mrs. Hill for the refreshments, the burly spaceman and the three cadets said good-by and left the house.

An hour later, ready to strike off into the jungle, the Solar Guard officer took four of the latest model shock rifles out of the arms locker of the Polaris and gave one to each boy with extra ammunition. "Never go after a giant with a popgun," he said. "It's a wonder you didn't kill yourselves with those old blasters you used, let alone kill a tyranno."

The three cadets examined the rifles closely and with enthusiasm.

"These are the latest Solar Guard issue," said Connel. "When you pull that trigger, you release a force three times greater than anything put into a rifle before."

Then, checking the Polaris and cutting all power, Connel removed the master switch and hid it. "That's so no one will get any bright ideas while we're gone," he explained as the boys watched curiously.

"You think someone might try to steal her, sir?" asked Tom.

"You never can tell, Corbett," answered Connel noncommittally.

Once again the three boys moved across the clearing toward the jungle wall. Astro took the lead as before, followed by Roger and Tom, and Connel brought up the rear. They moved directly to the spot where they had last seen the tyrannosaurus, found the trampled underbrush and massive tracks, and moved purposefully into the dank, suffocating green world.

The trail was plain to see. Where the boys once had to hack their way through the thick underbrush, the monster had created a path for them. The three cadets felt better about being back in the jungle with more reliable equipment and joked about what they would do to the tyrannosaurus when they saw it again.

"I thought you were supposed to be the home-grown Venusian hick that could manage in the jungle like that fairy-tale character, Tarzan," Roger teased Astro.

"Listen, you sleepwalking space Romeo," growled Astro, "I know more about this jungle than you could learn in ten years. And I'm not foolish enough to battle with a tyranno with the odds on his side. I ran for a good reason!"

"Boy, did you run!" taunted Roger. "You were as fast as the Polaris on emergency thrust!"

"Knock off that rocket wash!" roared Connel. "The Nationalists might have security patrols in this area. They could hear you talking and blast you before you could bat an eyelash! Now keep quiet and stay alert!"

The three cadets quieted down after that, walking carefully, stepping around dead brush that might betray their presence. After working their way along the tyrannosaurus's trail for several hours, Connel called a halt, and after a quick look at his compass, motioned for them to cut away from the monster's tracks.

"We'll start working around in a circle," he said. "One day east, one south, west, and north. Then we'll move in closer to the heart of the circle, and repeat the same procedure. That should cover a lot of ground in eight days. If anything's moving around out here, besides what should be here, we'll find it. From now on, we'll have a scout. Astro, you know the jungle, you take the point, about five hundred yards ahead. If you see anything, signs of a patrol or any danger from the jungle, fall back and report. Don't try to do anything yourself. Four guns in a good position are better than one popping off by itself."

"Aye, aye, sir," said Astro. With a quick nod to Tom and Roger, he moved off through the jungle. In ten feet he was invisible. In thirty seconds his footsteps were lost in the thousands of jungle sounds around them.

"I'll take the lead now," said Connel. "Corbett, you bring up the rear. All right, move out!"

From above, in the leafy roof covering the jungle; from the side, in the thick tangle of vines; and from below, in the thorny underbrush, the eyes of living things, jungle things, followed the movements of the three spacemen, perhaps wondering if these new beasts were a threat to their lives.

"Hal-loo-ooo!"

Astro's voice boomed out over the tops of the trees, where the birds fluttered in sudden fright. It echoed through the darkness around him, where smaller creatures crawled and slithered into the protection of their holes. The voice of the big cadet was loud, but it was not loud enough for his mates to hear.

Astro was lost.

He couldn't understand how it had happened. Over and over during the past six hours he had retraced his steps mentally, trying to visualize the trail, trying to locate the telltale marks he had made with his jungle knife, and so find Major Connel, Tom, and Roger. It was dark now and the big cadet had to face the dangerous jungle alone. He laughed ironically. Connel had given him the point because he knew the jungle! And now he was lost.

Astro was a little frightened too. It was his frank realization of trouble that made him afraid. He knew what was in the jungle, and though he had been there alone before, he had never been in it as deeply as this, nor had he ever been lost in the nightmarish place after sundown.

While he was desperately anxious to find his unit mates, he had not fired his rifle. The threat of exposing his position to a possible Nationalist patrol prevented him from signaling with the blaster or even from building a fire. During the last hours of the day, when the suspicion that he was lost became a concrete fact, the big cadet had been reluctant even to yell. Now, with pitch-black night closing around him, he dared to call, hoping it would be heard and recognized by his friends, or if not, considered the howl of