Saucer

box.

Rigby was standing beside the saucer when the little party entered the hangar. He stood watching as the party went through the saucer's hatch one by one, then he climbed aboard too.

Charley spent a dull hour in one of the passenger seats watching the engineers inspect, photograph, and measure. Roger Hedrick had absolutely forbidden any disassembly.

Rigby sat in the pilot's seat watching Charley Pine like a cat watches a mouse. Roger Hedrick was apparently taking no chances. Charley had been paid and promised more, but he wasn't about to take the chance that she would fly away with the saucer before he had collected a mountain of money from someone.

Is Charley going to fly the saucer? When will she come out of the hangar? Rip was toying with these questions as he inspected outdoor lighting junction boxes. He eyed the house. Maybe he should go inside. But where?

Soldiers came and went, presumably on military errands, and a backhoe lumbered by the hangar. Apparently it was being used to dig foxholes.

There were some armed civilians around too, but none of them seemed to give Rip more than a glance.

He couldn't keep opening junction boxes and dicking around inside them for too long, however, without attracting attention he didn't want. He had to go somewhere, do something, until a chance to get away with Charley came along.

But what?

'Well, as I live and breathe, if it ain't the ol' tapeworm kid himself.' An American voice.

Rip looked up, straight into the face of Bill Taggart. Standing beside Taggart was the tall Aussie from the Sahara, Red Sharkey. Behind Sharkey were two other men, both carrying rifles.

Rip got to his feet, wiped his hands on his trousers. 'What are you doing here, Taggart?'

'Becoming a millionaire, kid.' From his shirt pocket Taggart produced a check. He fluttered it in the air. 'O'l Hedrick pays his debts, I'll say that for him. I told him about the saucer. Made myself some serious money.'

Rip was infuriated. 'You had no right to do that.'

'All the right in the world, kid. That saucer belongs to me as much as it does to you. I figured out a way to make a dollar on the damned thing, and by God I did.'

'Enough jawing,' Red Sharkey said and laid a heavy hand on Rip's shoulder. Rip shrugged it off and swung at Taggart, who took the punch on his neck and went down like a stunned ox.

Sharkey and his men grabbed Rip's arms.

'I thought I'd seen the last of you when you stole the saucer in the desert, boy,' Sharkey said. 'Left us to the tender mercies of Qaddafi's camel jockeys, so you did. You owe me.'

Red Sharkey drew back and drove a fist at Rip's chin. Rip managed to take most of the impact on his shoulder and the side of his face, but the blow staggered him.

One of the men spoke up. 'You'll get us fired, Sharkey, scuffling on the lawn.'

'This little bastard deserves it,' Taggart snarled, rubbing his neck. He got slowly to his feet, looking sour as hell.

Red Sharkey twisted Rip's arm up behind his back. 'Come along like a gentleman or I'll twist your arm right out of the shoulder socket.'

Sharkey marched Rip into the house. Taggart stood on the sidewalk watching them go.

They took Rip to a small room with several chairs. 'Watch him,' Sharkey told the two who were with him and left them there.

Rip fell into a chair. He sat there flexing his arm, trying to work out the soreness.

In less than two minutes Sharkey was back with Hedrick in tow.

'Mr. Cantrell, it is you. This is quite unexpected,' Hedrick said, smiling. 'Welcome to Australia.'

Rip didn't reply.

Hedrick's smile faded. 'How did this man get here?' Hedrick asked Sharkey.

'I don't know, sir. We found him outside, playing with lawn lighting junction boxes.'

'Take him down to the hangar, show him to Ms. Pine. Then lock him up somewhere. And leave someone to guard him.'

Rip's legs almost failed him when he saw the saucer sitting in the middle of the hangar. So close and yet so far.

Sharkey called to Charley through the hatch. She came out, stood there looking at Rip, who was flanked by Sharkey's hired muscle.

'Mr. Hedrick said to show him to you. Now you've seen him.'

Rip jammed his hands into his pockets so no one would see them tremble.

Charley looked so beautiful.

She walked over to him, reached for his cheek.

'That's enough romance,' Red Sharkey said sourly. 'I'm getting all choked up.'

They turned Rip around and led him away.

Charley stood rooted, staring at Rip's back. Sharkey paused beside her. 'Hedrick said to make it crystal clear: Any funny business and he gets it.'

Charley Pine climbed back into the saucer.

The engineers announced themselves satisfied a few minutes after twelve o'clock and lowered themselves through the open hatch. Charley went through the hatch after them.

Rigby stayed in the saucer. The engineers wandered toward the main personnel door and left the building.

What is Rigby doing in there?

She stretched, did several deep knee bends, bent over and touched the toes of her steel-toed leather flight boots.

No one else in the hangar.

Where have they taken Rip?

She should fly the saucer out of here. Fly it right through the door, light the rockets and be gone.

Hedrick wouldn't hurt Rip. The man would have to let him go-Even as she thought it, she didn't believe it. She was standing there, forlorn, tired, and dejected, when Rigby dropped through the saucer's hatch. Bent over, he walked toward her.

He was just clearing the leading edge of the saucer and coming erect when she leaped clear of the floor and kicked with her right foot. She was aiming for Rigby's larynx and missed; her flight boot smashed into his mouth.

His head slammed back against the leading edge of the saucer, then he went to his hands and knees, blood gushing from his mouth. Rigby spit teeth, shook his head, trying to get it together.

His head came up and his eyes found her. His lips twisted. He coiled himself to rise.

She kicked him again with everything she had, with all her weight moving forward into the kick. Her foot caught Rigby square in the nose with a sickening thunk, ripping the bandage off. The impact threw Rigby backward onto the concrete, where he hit with a splat. He lay there totally relaxed.

Unconscious. Blood flowed freely from his mouth and the misshapen lump of flesh that had been his nose.

Steeling herself, Charley Pine bent down and checked under Rigby's armpits. Nothing. She half rolled him and felt the small of his back. A holster.

She pulled out the pistol, a nice little Walther.380, loaded, with a full magazine. She put it in the pocket of her flight suit and climbed into the saucer.

In the cabin she stood erect, trying to get her breathing under control, looking around, trying to think.

If those engineers hid a bomb in here, where would they put it? They must have known that the saucer might be inspected again. Or two or three times.

She started in the equipment bay.