Chapter Fifteen

 

“Lila, this is Joe Cramer,” Ganzer said.

“Dr. Ganzer tells me you saved me,” she said, in an even tone.

“The forward section of our star ship was mostly destroyed. I carried you to safety.”

“I’m sorry not to remember any of that, but I believe you and thank you.”

Ganzer reaffirmed she could do complex calculations and operations that required an incredible amount of knowledge.

“I’m very glad you seem well again,” Cramer said.

She smiled slightly, tilted her head, then continued down the hall away from him.

Cramer and Ganzer entered the meeting room, joining Floyd, Stark and Witherspoon.

“Joe, we’re sorry it took a long time to come for you, but Sanchez took Cindy and Mona by force. He had several armed men,” Floyd said.

“Sanchez took the coward’s way out and used drug darts on them,” Stark said.

“It took a while before Sanchez notified us and laid down the conditions for their safe return. He knows or at least thinks we can’t touch him on Icarus,” Witherspoon said.

Cramer lifted a brow. “So you don’t think I can just walk in there and he’ll exchange them for me?”

“He can’t be trusted. I’ve told you.” Stark raised his voice.

“Well, if I take a bunch of men along, he’ll for sure kill Mona and Cindy,” Cramer said, as loud.

“Before we eliminate options, let’s remind ourselves about the particulars of Icarus, Joe. We don’t know what extra precautions Sanchez may have added. There are a few extra wrinkles added since you and I were there.” Floyd dimmed the lights and turned on a vidicube projector.

The view plates showed the shape of Icarus and physical data. The small, non-spherical asteroid, only half mile in diameter, with a very jagged and treacherous surface, rotated once every two and a half hours, making its journey around the sun in a little over one year. Icarus now headed back to its closest approach to the sun, its position just outside the orbit of Venus. Witherspoon equipped the tiny asteroid with an artificial gravity generator, sunken deep to be effective. Without it a man would only weigh a quarter of an ounce, an impossible situation for getting around.

A tunnel led into the center of the asteroid, the storage chamber of Witherspoon’s gold. Sanchez probably transported the gold someplace else. That unknown took a back seat to all the other unknowns. Cramer wondered what detectors Sanchez had in place. What traps did he have ready to spring? How many men did he have? Why did Sanchez want him?

“I can help if Sanchez has detectors or traps. He can’t have any technology more advanced than I know about,” Ganzer said.

“But he’ll know I have something on me that will neutralize his toys. That will endanger Cindy and Mona’s life. I have to meet his conditions, then play it by ear,” Cramer said.

“He’s right. Sanchez won’t hesitate to kill the women if he suspects something,” Stark said.

“We can’t let you just walk in there without backup.” Witherspoon frowned.

“We won’t. Sanchez won’t expect anybody to follow Joe in if Icarus is at its innermost point in its orbit. Joe goes in before that point, then we come in when Icarus is closest to the sun. Joe just has to stall Sanchez long enough for us to move in,” Floyd said.

“Anybody tries that, they will be fried,” Stark said.

“I majored in metallurgical engineering and equipped my ship with a reflective, high temperature alloy—fabricated it myself. Joe’s Olympus Mons Mining ship was equipped the same way, allowing us to try mining the asteroid,” Floyd said.

Ganzer shook his head. “We don’t know how many men Sanchez has with him.”

“Well, with Mr. Stark, Floyd, and Mona gives us three fighting machines,” Cramer said.

“I believe I can use my muscles to help,” Witherspoon said.

“I was hoping you would say that.”

“You’ll find your daughter can take care of herself, and surely you can lend a hand,” Floyd said.

“I’ll have to take on the wimp among Sanchez’s men,” Cramer said.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Mr. Cramer. I had a taste of your speed. You’re faster than any of Sanchez’s men, except the one they call Steel.” Stark’s remark surprised Cramer. He stared at Stark, grinned, and tilted a thank you with his head.

“That’s six persons against what may be a dozen or more with Sanchez,” Ganzer said. “I wish there were some technological advantage I could offer you.”

“There is. Sanchez and his men will have hand weapons, blasters for sure,” Stark said.

“That’s easy. I can provide each of you with a small device that will render the blasters inoperative.”

“Dr. Ganzer, Sanchez is calling on seven megahertz. He’s asking for Mr. Cramer,” Lila said, appearing at the meeting room door, glancing at Cramer.

He left the meeting room with the rest following him. Lila led the way to a small communications room. He sat down at the microphone and spoke. “This is Joe Cramer.”

“Just so you don’t get any cute ideas about bringing somebody with you, I’m sending one of my men in a fast mining ship to pick you up. Be in orbit around Venus as soon as you can get there.” Sanchez’s voice was clear over the radio’s speaker.

“I’ll be there alone,” Cramer answered. The conversation, as usual, was plagued with the time delay between each exchange.

“That puts a different wrinkle on things,” Witherspoon said.

“Yes. I’ll have to stall him for quite some time before you can move in with Floyd’s ship.”

Witherspoon provided Cramer with a cruiser to take him to Venus. He dreaded the encounter with Sanchez. Too many unknowns surrounded this trip. One thing Cramer did know—Cindy and Mona as hostages infuriated him, and that would transform him into a fighter. He only met Sanchez on Europa, and he’d followed his orders to the letter. He’d be finding out soon enough why Sanchez wanted him.

Cramer established a stable orbit around Venus. He’d come here by himself, not even risking a pilot to stay behind when Cramer transferred to Sanchez’s craft. Witherspoon would have one of his employees pick up the ship long after Cramer left it. He looked at Venus and its cloud cover, which looked like gravy smeared across a plate. No base of operations could be established on Venus with its crushing pressure, high temperatures, and sulfuric acid spray along with carbon dioxide atmosphere. He supposed Witherspoon might dream up a mission to that greenhouse inferno someday, and if that happened Cramer and Mona would get the nod.

He saw a speck in the distance on his monitor. It grew into a ship, one made for landing on a small asteroid. More accurately, you docked with these small asteroids rather than land on them. Artificial gravity still wouldn’t make a landing easy. The ship appeared as a lattice of girders, a pilot and passenger’s cabin the only substantial structure about it. The craft ordinarily carried rocks to an ore transport. It pulled beside his cruiser, and a bellows extended to his door. He heard the clank of the metal connecting then waited at the door with a space suit packed in a carrier.

When the green light flashed he slid aside his door and floated through the connecting tube to Sanchez’s craft. Cramer peered back at Witherspoon’s cruiser for the last time, knowing his proverbial bridge burned behind him. As the door opened to the waiting ship, a muscular man planted his hand into Cramer’s chest. Just that one motion told him that the man was probably lightning fast if it came to a fight. This could be Steel, the man Stark referred to.

“Hold it. Put that down on the floor and stand back.”

Cramer backed away after placing his suit carrier on the floor. “It’s just a space suit.”

“Keep quiet.” He flipped up the lid of the carrier and did a thorough inspection. Satisfied, he closed the case then took an elaborate scanner and ran it over Cramer’s body. The unit dinged when it approached his mouth. Cramer sweated, fearing detection of Ganzer’s blaster neutralizer in one of his teeth.

“For cryin’ out loud. That crown on my tooth is a gold-palladium alloy,” Cramer said.

“It seems to be emitting a weak signal.”

“It’s a pain attenuator attached to the roots of that tooth,” he said.

“What a wimp. Can’t stand pain, eh?” The man laughed.

Cramer, relieved Sanchez’s henchman accepted that, didn’t dwell on the man laughing at him, at least not this instant anyway. The enclosure for pilot and passenger allowed a panoramic view through a transparent dome. As Venus shrunk to a disk, Cramer a blanket of fear enclosed him more than the blackness of space. Stark painted a horrible picture of Sanchez, one who reminded him of terrorists prevalent at the end of the twentieth century and early twenty-first century on Earth. Now Cramer walked into the lion’s den and placed his head in the chief lion’s mouth.

Icarus, more oddly shaped and rougher than Cramer remembered, lay ahead, tumbling in its rotation. His chauffeur brought the craft down gently to an even spot. The open framework beams of the ship doubled as shocks so the craft remained level despite the sharp, uneven, rocky surface. Sun screens unfolded and surrounded the ship as Cramer and the pilot donned their space suits and stepped out. The blinding sun washed out the definition of surface features and caused the liquid crystal filter to kick in on Cramer’s helmet. They walked over the dangerous surface and headed for a door, a flat plate totally out of place on the jagged surface. The man lifted the plate, and Cramer followed, down below the asteroid’s surface.

The walls and corridor surface, smoothed by a mine driller, made walking easy as the slope descended down at a shallow angle. The tunnel, illuminated by glo-globes, twisted downward in a spiral fashion. Cramer surmised this must be the entrance to what used to be Witherspoon’s gold cache. They continued until they reached the very heart of Icarus. An airlock faced them.

His escort activated the cycling, and they entered on the green light. Once inside, the cycling started again and Cramer’s external pressure rose. They removed their suits and stepped through the second interlock door into a lit room. A few heavy and empty storage racks in the room resembled the kind he saw in a documentary for gold storage in old Fort Knox ages ago on Earth.

Sanchez entered from a door on the opposite side of the room. He carried himself like a bantam rooster. Several inches shorter than Cramer, and borderline muscle bound, his brown complexion showed his Mexican heritage. Cramer felt no remorse over Sanchez being older now. His face was gaunt from loss of weight and his hair, once coal black, was now salt and pepper, contrasting his dark skin color.

“Mr. Cramer—may I call you, Joe?”

“My friends call me Joe, but then you’re calling the shots, aren’t you?”

“No doubt Stark has painted a gruesome picture of me. I’m not bad like he says.”

“You could have fooled me. I suppose nearly killing me on Europa, stealing Mr. Witherspoon’s gold, and kidnapping Cindy and Mona are all acts of kindness.”

“I knew you would survive the blast on Europa. As for the gold, Witherspoon will eventually get it back, and the two women in your life were to get you here.”

“Okay, you have me, now turn them loose,” Cramer said.

“Not just yet.”

“Why do you hate me so? The only meeting we’ve had was on Europa and Ganymede, and I followed your orders to the letter.”

“I don’t hate you. I admire your tenacity for accomplishing your assignments. That’s why you’re here,” Sanchez said. “There’s something I want you to do.”

“Why didn’t you just ask?”

“When you hear what it is you’ll know why I didn’t just ask. The gold, the kidnapping, the men I have backing me up will all be clear, and by the way, you’d better radio your friends to not try a rescue mission.”

“I’m more interested in seeing Cindy and Mona right now.”

“I’ll bring them so you can see they’re okay.” Sanchez motioned for the pilot to bring them in.

The man opened the door and made a hand motion. Cindy and Mona entered, and Cindy rushed forward, grabbing Cramer around his neck with her arms. “Dad, you shouldn’t have come.”

“Are you okay? And you, Mona?”

“Yes, we’ve not been mistreated. Not yet,” Mona said.

“Okay, you’ve seen I’m not like Stark said. Now consider my request, please,” said Sanchez.

“Stark also said you can be deceptive, luring your victims into a false sense of security, then striking when least expected.”

“That’s right, Joe. Don’t trust him,” Mona said.

“Shut up!” Sanchez’s man stepped toward her in a menacing way. She took it as a threat and downed the man with a maneuver Cramer saw her use on Iapetus. Three men appeared behind her with blasters and shoved her against the wall, sticking the muzzle of their blasters in her face.

“I knew you couldn’t be trusted,” he said.

“No one has been hurt except my man, Steel.”

That confirmed his guess at the identity of his escort. Cindy stood beside Cramer in a stance that conveyed both readiness and hope from her father.

“Tell your men to back off, then I’ll consider listening to your request.”

Sanchez motioned to the three men and they backed slowly away, putting their blasters in their holsters but still watching Mona.

“Joe, don’t,” she said.

“I just said I would listen, that’s all,” Cramer said, waving at her in a way he hoped would give her confidence in him.

“Good. This mission is to Saturn’s largest moon, Titan. Have you heard of the legend of a city there?”

“Just a myth, much like the lost city of Atlantis on Earth,” Cramer said.

“Ahh, but I don’t believe it is a myth. Probes have shown some evidence of a city beneath the methane ocean that covers part of Titan’s surface.” Sanchez’s tone conveyed a confidence in this legend’s authenticity.

“Surely, you can’t be serious about outfitting a team to search for this mythical city. There was an elaborate attempt at looking once before. All members of the expedition were lost, never heard from again.”

“I have every confidence you can do it. The successful ventures you’ve been on already convince me you’re the man for the job.”

“Why do you want to find the city?”

“Money, power, my name in lights. Think of what discovering that city would mean.” Sanchez’s face seemed to glow at the idea of it.

“That’s a suicide mission.”

“That’s what I was told you said about the Jupiter mission.”

“Yeah, but at least there was a ship that could handle Jupiter’s pressures,” Cramer said.

“You’ll have to convince your friend, Dr. Ganzer, to design gear to handle the conditions on Titan,” Sanchez said.

“Why should he do that? I’m not asking him anything of the kind.”

“This discussion is ended, and so is my patience. I’ve tried to be reasonable about this. You’re here to stay until you come around.” Sanchez motioned for his men to take Cramer, Cindy, and Mona to a small living quarters a few rooms away.

A bathroom, three cots, a few chairs, and a table rounded out the décor of the room. Cindy and Mona told him their food would be brought in. He collapsed on the floor, his back against a wall. He held his head in his hands. Cindy dropped to one side of him, Mona on the other.

“I’m tired. I can’t go on any more of these foolhardy missions, treating my life or anybody else’s life like a dirty rag doll to throw around.”

“Is there a rescue mission on the way?” Cindy asked. He nodded. She grabbed his right arm and rested her head on his shoulder.

He looked at Mona, comforted by her presence as well. With his left hand he clutched her hand. She responded with a smile and enclosed her other hand over his.

“We’ll get out of this, if we have to knock some heads to do it,” she said.

“I think that’s what it’s going to take.”

“Come on. Let’s all get some sleep.” She pulled Cramer to his feet, leading him to one of the cots. He gave in and nearly collapsed to a prone position, crashing into slumber.

Steel woke him, waving a blaster in his face. “Sanchez wants to see you.”

Cramer got up as Steel backed away, pointing the blaster toward Mona and Cindy, gesturing for them to stay put. He herded Cramer into the adjoining room.

“Have you reconsidered?” Sanchez asked.

Cramer didn’t answer. Steel forced him down into a chair.

“When your friends arrive here on their rescue mission, I’ll have your two lady friends cuffed and stood against the wall. As soon as they break through, I’ll have Steel kill them both,” Sanchez said.

“I thought you weren’t as bad as Stark said.”

“If I was, one of them would already be dead.”

“What do you want me to do?” Cramer asked, sighing.

“First, call off your heroes if you value the lives of your women.”

“And then?”

“Talk to Ganzer. Get him to agree to design equipment to hunt for the city on Titan.”

“If he agrees?”

“Have your friend Baxter come alone in his ship. He can pick up your women. You’ll stay behind until Ganzer perfects and takes the equipment to a place I’ll designate.”

Mona, and probably Cindy, would be disappointed in Cramer. What a low point in his life, destined to go lower. He radioed Ganzer’s lab on Mars and told him to tell Stark to back off on the rescue plans, then asked Ganzer about the equipment to go diving in liquid methane for a lost city on Titan. Ganzer informed him such equipment already existed. Floyd would come alone, and now the waiting started. Sanchez hovered over Cramer’s shoulder the whole time.

“Now you’re acting like you have sense,” he said.

“I’m pleased you’re happy.” Cramer suppressed a groan. He had just destroyed the confidence Cindy and Mona had in him.

“Go back and wait with them. You’ve earned their ticket outta here.”

When Cramer walked into the room, he couldn’t hide his recent concession to Sanchez from Cindy and Mona.

She read his expression right away. “You caved in, didn’t you?”

“They were going to kill you if the rescue mission came.”

“We can take care of ourselves. I believed I knew you,” she said.

“Dad, surely you could have given us credit for fighting these men.”

“They’re packing hand weapons, there is at least five of them, and they’re not bluffing. That is a bit much for two people to overcome.” The two women fell silent and looked away. That cut him to the heart.

After radioing Dr. Ganzer, Cramer was sure Stark would return to Mars after establishing orbit around Venus. Floyd’s fast ship would arrive in about a week. During that time the two women gave him the silent treatment which sent Cramer deeper into despair. He began to lose his will to live. Even if Sanchez’s quest for the hidden city came off, Cramer couldn’t go alone. With Mona, they could pull it off, but he knew she would refuse.

If Sanchez went back on his word like Stark predicted, then Cramer would fight. He wondered if he should fight anyway. If Sanchez kept his word, fighting would jeopardize Cindy and Mona’s chances of getting out if they lost the fight. If they could overpower them, he could get himself out of this mess, and regain their confidence. Soon it would be decision time.

He assessed the chances of winning a fight. He saw Sanchez, Steel, and three other men, but that may not be all his men. Given Mona’s fighting ability, three against five sounded like good odds. Cramer tried not to think of the appearance of more men. Sanchez no longer angered him that much but Steel did. His insulting, cocky, and smart aleck traits infuriated Cramer. If a fight broke out, he would take on Steel and, although he couldn’t match Steel’s fighting ability and speed, the man’s rotten personality would fuel Cramer enough he might have a chance. Mona was right. He did have his limit when it came to forgiving attitudes.

He couldn’t ask Mona or Cindy about the number of men for fear the room might be bugged. Better to let everyone be surprised if he decided to fight, although it would be handy if Cindy and Mona knew too. With the women’s lightning-fast reaction times, it might only amount to a second or two for them to go into action.

“Your ride is here,” Steel said, coming in, continuing to place his trust in one thing only: his blaster. He motioned for the women to stand at the opposite side of the room from Cramer. Cramer started to get up. “You stay put, Cramer.”

“I’d like to see them off. It may be the last time I get to see them.”

“Very touching, but I said stay put.”

“Your trusting attitude overwhelms me,” Cramer said.

Sanchez stepped through the door behind Steel. Cramer could see the other three men behind him—or maybe four? He made a snap decision he hoped he wouldn’t regret, and he staked his life on Ganzer’s device to protect him from blaster fire. Cramer sprang to his feet, and Steel turned the blaster on him. The red beam spit from the ribbed blaster barrel then formed a temporary red canopy in front of Cramer. Whoa, Ganzer’s device did its job.

The deflection of the weapon’s beam dumbfounded everyone in the room. A split second after the red barrier dissipated, Cramer kicked the blaster from Steel’s grasp and ploughed into him. Mona and Cindy took the cue and rushed Sanchez and his men at the door. A mass of fighting men and women went into the adjoining room out of Cramer’s sight. For only a second, he worried about the two to one odds against the women. Steel uttered an obscene insult and, with a grin on his face, rushed at Cramer.

Fast and strong, Steel grabbed him by his neck and pushed him against the wall. Steel’s hands, like a vise, squeezed Cramer’s neck tight, shutting off his windpipe. Cramer slapped both ears of Steel with his two hands. Addled, Steel released his grasp, then Cramer bashed his face with his clenched fist. Steel reeled backwards, recovered, then charged, letting out a guttural cry.

Cramer used an old basketball move he learned in high school and pivoted on his right foot, turned away from his opponent, clasped his hands together, then beat a surprised Steel in the side of the head as he sailed past him. Steel went down, and Cramer continued to pound him on the head until his knuckles threatened to pop out of joint. Steel fell face down and didn’t move.

Cramer rushed to the adjoining room to help Cindy and Mona. Actually, four men joined Sanchez. One man lay unconscious near where Mona fought two others. Cindy squared off, fighting the other man, and Sanchez stood off to the side watching. He saw Cramer.

“Cramer, what in blazes are you doing? Your women had free passage out of here.”

Cramer ignored him and clobbered the man who with Cindy. That man stumbled and turned around, swinging at Cramer at the same time. The fist caught him in the jaw, sending him spinning off balance. Sanchez grabbed the chance and smashed a blow into Cramer’s stomach, which dropped him to the floor. He fought to stay conscious and saw Cindy straight arm her opponent with a powerful motion using the heel of her hand. The man’s eyes glazed over, and he fell like a tree.

Mona downed another man leaving her with one opponent as Sanchez kicked Cramer when he rose to his hands and knees. Cindy then gave a savage kick and Sanchez went down. Cindy clenched her fists together and, with a power driver motion, smashed Sanchez in the back of the head. Sanchez fell nose first on the floor and lay still.

Cramer, his ribs hurting, his jaw throbbing, and his breath knocked out of him, slowly rose to his feet. He noted Mona, her hair slightly in disarray, finished her final opponent. She picked up a stray blaster, readying it when all the men regained consciousness. Just then Steel, recovering from his beating by Cramer, appeared at the door with his blaster.

“Drop it!” Mona yelled. Steel threw his blaster to the floor, ignored her weapon and advanced on Cramer.

“Back off,” she warned.

“Never mind, Mona, I’ll take care of him.” Cramer tried to ignore his pain.

“Joe, you’re in no condition to fight him.”

“I don’t leave a job undone. This one’s mine.” He readied himself for Steel’s attack.

Steel smiled, showing his uneven teeth, his face contorting with the insolent smirk, then he rushed Cramer. Cramer crouched low, took two powerful steps forward, and the two men collided. Steel’s advance turned into a backward stumble as Cramer pushed him hard against the wall.

Steel shoved Cramer away and started swinging his fists at him. Cramer warded off one blow after another, using his own arms in a rapid defensive motion. Steel brought his knee up. Cramer expected the motion and turned his body to the side, Steel’s knee finding Cramer’s hip.

Pain radiated down his leg like a sciatic nerve attack, addling him. Steel saw an opening and smashed his fist into the side of Cramer’s face. He rolled with the punch, squared himself, and delivered a powerful blow to Steel’s gut, then one to his face, another to the other side of his face, clenched his fists together and pounded the knockout blow, sending Steel to the floor in a sorry heap, his eyes staring unconsciously straight ahead.

Breathing heavily, his nose bleeding, Cramer stumbled against the wall and looked at Steel’s unconscious form on the floor at his feet.

“Remind me not to underestimate you again, Joe,” Mona said. He smiled as Cindy rushed to his side to support his sagging form.

“It would’ve helped if you’d let us in on your plans,” Mona said.

“Before you give me more credit than I deserve, I assure you it was a snap decision. I’d already won your freedom and decided to win my own.” He spit some blood and checked for a possible loose tooth.

“Cindy, this is a characteristic of your dad, always placing the blame on himself, expecting others to agree with him in that respect.”

“Dad, I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“Don’t be. I thought it was the only way I could save the two of you.”

“Joe, I…” Mona began.

The door opened behind them, and Floyd stepped in. “Looks like I missed all the fun,” he said, smiling and cackling.

“Floyd, am I glad to see you. Think you can stash these clowns in your mineral bay? We’ll drop them off at the Martian jail,” Cramer said.

“It would be my pleasure.”

“We’ll have to separate Sanchez from the rest of them,” Cramer said. “He still has us over a barrel regarding Witherspoon’s gold.”

“How are we going to persuade the authorities we’ll take care of Sanchez separately? He’s guilty of the same crimes as his muscle men,” Floyd asked.

“Perhaps we can offer Sanchez a deal,” Cramer said.

“What kind of deal?” Mona asked.

“Something you and Cindy will have to agree to.” He noted the confused look on their faces. “Tell Sanchez you’ll drop the kidnapping charges if he’ll reveal the whereabouts of Witherspoon’s gold.”

“And have him on the loose again? I don’t think so,” Mona said.

“How about telling him we’ll reduce the charges, at least?” he asked.

“A pot full of gold, no matter who’s, is not worth it,” Cindy added.

“Actually, he was going to release you, of that I’m certain. It was me he wanted bent to his will. I’m solely responsible for his actions,” Cramer said.

“He wants you because of your ability to carry out assigned missions in space. Don’t get the big head on me over that one,” Mona said.

“Oh, I’m not. I’m not as capable anymore. Floyd here is fifteen or maybe twenty years my senior and still sharp as a tack. Sanchez is foolish to think I can function like a thirty-year-old, but back to the subject. We need to find out where Witherspoon’s gold is. Anybody have a better idea?”

“Ask Sanchez what he wants in exchange for the location of the gold,” Floyd said.

“I can imagine the response we’ll get,” she said.

“Every idea is terrible, I agree. Let me talk to him. It’s me who he’s going to respond to. I want all of you to trust me on this, please,” Cramer asked.

He observed their faces. The leathery, wrinkled face of Floyd’s masked his expression, but no smile showed between his nose and chin. Cindy held an expression that said she wanted to trust her father. Mona seemed to concede a bit on his judgment, perhaps remembering his forgiving attitude and giving people the benefit of the doubt, which always seemed to work out. None of them replied to him, and he took it as a somewhat qualified, “Okay, do your thing.”

As they approached Mars, having already called ahead to fill Ganzer and Witherspoon in on what happened, Cramer asked Floyd to bring Sanchez forward. Sanchez strolled in with a somewhat reserved smirk on his face.

“Come over here, Sanchez.” Cramer motioned him to the observation bubble. Floyd, in the meantime, started preparations for their descent.

“See that series of canyons down there? Everybody knows that’s Valles Marineris and what goes on there.” Cramer pointed to the scarred structure, the most prominent land formation on Mars outside of Olympus Mons.

At least three parallel canyons extended two thousand eight hundred miles across the sandy Martian surface. Tributary canyons sprang from the south wall of the main canyon. Bulges, sandy flows, and flood channels all made a detailed picture that passed under and behind them as Floyd began his descent.

“Your muscle-bound thugs will be clearing sand from the walls of the canyon floor for miners. That’s punishment for being a criminal, equivalent to Earth’s old chain gangs. Think how hot those space suits get in the afternoon sun. The outside temperature reaches about twenty degrees Celsius, but prisoner suits are notoriously inefficient in their cooling capability. I’ve heard prisoners wish for the frigid Martian night to set in.”

He watched the cocky smirk and self-confident look disappear from Sanchez’s face.

“Taking someone against their will, especially women, is treated as seriously as being a serial killer,” Cramer said. “I just might, if I try real hard, be able to get your punishment dropped a notch, perhaps to working in the mining town’s restaurant near the canyon serving the miners their food and drink.”

“You would do that?” Sanchez asked.

“Maybe, but you have to reveal the location of Witherspoon’s gold, otherwise the women call the shots on your punishment.”

He could see the wheels turning in Sanchez’s mind. The blood drained out of his face, now apparently doubting his piece of information gave him a ticket to freedom. Cramer read Sanchez’s tan face, but he knew Sanchez wouldn’t crack easily.

“It’s hidden right here on Mars, at the North Polar Cap. You’ll have to take me with you, then I’ll show you.”

Cramer didn’t detect the cocky attitude in his voice any longer. He tested his perception of Sanchez. “Nothing doing. You provide the coordinates, or I’ll see to it you’re up to your hips in Martian sand.”

Sanchez grimaced, fidgeted with his shoes by swinging his legs and tapping one shoe with the other. He looked down, sighed, then looked Cramer in the eyes. “Okay. It’s buried near the old abandoned sled trail that leads to the mining camp at the North Pole. It’s exactly between the last two repulsion drive booster stations one hundred meters to the right as you proceed toward the camp. There’s a sand channel where it’s buried.”

“You understand we have to verify that. After verification, it remains up to the women to convince the authorities you deserve a lesser sentence. My influence is limited, but it was them you wronged.”

More color flowed out of Sanchez’s face as he looked at Mona, then Cindy, and swallowed hard. His tan face took on a sickly pallor. Stark’s assessment of Sanchez hadn’t been entirely accurate. A hardened criminal or terrorist would have remained unyielding no matter the consequences.

Cramer radioed Witherspoon and told him of the gold’s location. As they landed, he sent his man along the old sled trail. They arrived at Ganzer’s lab, and Witherspoon’s employee retrieved the gold. It took him several trips to get it all.

Good to his word, Cramer spoke to the law enforcement authorities and with the help of Mona and Cindy, got Sanchez located in a restaurant. His sentence remained long. Canyon duty faced his thugs.