Murder is always a cold-blooded
crime any way you look at it. But for
outright cruelty an barbarism there
was no equal to the actions of—
The Three Thieves Of Japetus
By Mark Reinsberg
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
June 1957
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
They sat huddled together in the tiny space-survival unit, watching thebig rocket freighter draw closer to their drifting position off Saturn.
Jake moistened his thin purple lips and clenched the radiophonetighter. "Hello, freighter!" he repeated. "We're survivors of ashipwreck. Can you pick us up? Please answer." His voice grew moreurgent. "Please pick us up! Our air supply is failing!"
Matt shook his thick black head of hair. "If they fall for this,they're stupider than I gave them credit for." His hand rubbed the gunhidden beneath his shirt.
A fierce cone of light flared in the freighter's forward rockets,brighter for an instant than the sun's remote disc.
"They are falling for it, Matt," Henry exclaimed. A wide grin spreadover his pudgy baby-face. "They're slowing down."
The radio receiver came to life. "Hello, survivors. We hear yourmessage and are adjusting course to pick you up. Stand by."
Jake turned to his cohorts, a triumphant glint in his pale grey eyes."I knew they would. What were you guys worried about?"
"They don't like to," said Matt. "Costs them time."
"Space law says they have to," said Henry.
"Space law!" echoed Matt. "There isn't a space patrol within twohundred million miles."
"Gosh, it's a big ship," said Henry. "Wonder what's in its cargo?"
"Yeah, Jake. How about telling us now?"
Jake smiled with self-contentment. "I said it would be worth yourwhile. Be patient a few minutes longer."
The cargo hold of the freighter opened. A rocket-propelled net shot outinto space. Their tiny unit was caught up like a fish and dragged intothe freighter's maw.
The first mate stood by as they clambered out of the unit.
"We sure do thank you," said Jake to the ship's officer. "Another hourand it would have been too late."
"Say," said Matt, "has your ship picked up any of the others?"
"No," said the mate. "How many more were there?"
"Seven, I think. We had a ship about your size. How many are in yourcrew?"
"Eight altogether," said the mate. "Perhaps you had better tell thecaptain about your accident."
He led them to the bridge. It was a darkened compartment, with greenluminescent control panel, and a great steel-glass turret overlookingthe universe. Dominating the scene was a huge, dramatic closeup ofSaturn, girdled by its thin, tilted rings.
"You are the captain?" said Jake to the grave elderly man at thecontrols.
"I am. You are the survivors?"
Jake and his companions bared their guns.
"Call your entire crew," said Jake, pressing the muzzle into thecaptain's side. "I want to see eight men in this room."
"Ah," said the captain sadly. "So this is what our mercy stop has letus in for."
They marched the eight crew members to the ship's air lock.
"Get in," said Jake.
"Surely it is not necessary for you to kill us," said the captain. "Whydon't you set us adrift in a survival unit? Give us a fighting chance."
"Space death is such a terrible way to go," said the first mate.
"Get in," said