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                              DEATH STAR

                              By TOM PACE

              Trapped by the most feared of space pirates
            Devil Garrett, Starrett Blade was fighting for
              his life. Weaponless, his ship gone, he was
           pinning his hopes on a girl--who wanted him dead.

           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
                      Planet Stories Spring 1945.
         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]


Starrett Blade crouched in the rocks by the tiny Centaurian lake. It
was only about two or three hundred feet across, but probably thousands
of feet deep. This lake, and hundreds of others like it, were the
only things to break the monotony of the flat, rocky surface of Alpha
Centauri III--called the most barren planet in space.

Ten minutes ago, Star Blade's ship had spun into the stagnant waters
before him. An emergency release had flung the air-lock doors open, and
the air pressure had flung Star out. And now he was waiting for Devil
Garrett to come down to the water's edge to search for him.

For eight years, Devil Garrett had been the top space pirate in the
void. For a year, Star himself had personally been hunting him. And on
a tour over Alpha III, a Barden energy-beam had stabbed up at Blade's
ship, and Star Blade had crashed into the lake.

That Barden Beam had Star worried and puzzled. It took a million volts
of power for a split-second flash of the beam. Garrett didn't have an
atomics plant on Alpha III--if he had, escaping rays would point it
out, no matter how well it was camouflaged. There was no water power,
for there was no running water. There were only the lakes ... and tidal
power was out, for Alpha III had no moon.

However, that could wait. Star slid the electron knife from his
water-proof sheath, gripped it firmly. He could hear quick footsteps as
a man came down the trail that led directly past his hiding place.

It wasn't Garrett, which was disappointing. But it was one of his men,
and he was heavily armed. That didn't worry Star.

His fighting had earned Starrett Blade the nickname of "Death Star."

The man walked to the water's edge, and peered out over the pool. He
saw the bubbles that were coming up from the sinking ship, and he
nodded, grunted in satisfaction, and started to turn back.

Star landed on him, knocking him sprawling on the rock. The pirate
jerked up an arm, holding the jet-gun.

The stabbing lance of blue fire cracked from the electron knife, dug
into the man's heart.

Star tossed the dead pirate's cloak over his shoulders, and thrust both
electron blade and jet-gun into his belt. He straightened, and saw the
leveled gun from the corner of his eye.

He got the jet in his right hand, the knife in his left, and went into
a dive that flipped him behind a rock. The three actions took only a
split-second, and the blast from the jet-gun flaked rock where he had
been standing.

While a jet-gun is the most deadly weapon known, you have to press a
loading stud to slide another blast-capsule into place. Death Star knew
this very well. So he knew he was safe in coming up from behind the
spur of stone to fire his own gun.

If his reflexes hadn't been as quick as they were, he would have
blasted the girl.

       *       *       *       *       *

He stopped, and stood for a second, staring at the girl. She was
something to invite stares, too. In the moment that lasted between her
next move, he had time to register that she was about five feet five
tall, black-haired--the kind of black hair that looks like silken spun
darkness--dark-eyed, and possessing both a face and a form that would
make anyone stop and gulp.

Then the moment of half-awed survey was over, and she leveled the jet
on him, and said in a trembling voice, "Drop those weapons, or I'll
blast you ... _pirate_!"

Death Star said, "That jet-gun is empty. I can see the register on the
magazine. And I'm not a pirate. I'm Starrett Blade."

The useless jet-gun slid out of the girl's hand, and she gave a
half-gasp. "Starrett Blade! I--I don't believe ..." she broke off
abruptly. "So you're Death Star! A fine story for a hired killer, a
pirate."

Star reddened. "Look," he snapped, "I don't know who's been talking to
you, but ..." he whirled, and his hand whipped the jet-gun from his
belt. As he did so, the girl jerked up the jet-gun she had dropped, and
flung it with all her strength. The blow landed on his arm and side,
and paralyzed him long enough for the man who had leaped out behind him
to land a stunning blow against his head. As Star went down, he dizzily
cursed himself for becoming interested in the argument with the girl,
so that he did not heed his reflexes in time ... and dimly, he wondered
why it had seemed so important to convince the lovely dark-haired girl.

Then a bit of the cosmos seemed to fall on Star's head, and he was
hurled into blackness.

An eternity seemed to pass.

Deep in the blackness, a light was born. It leaped toward him, a
far-away comet rocketing along, coming from some far, unknown corner
of the galaxy. It became a flaming sun in a gray-green space, and
strangely, there seemed to be several odd planets circling about the
sun. Some of them were vast pieces of queer electronic machinery. Some
were vague, villainous-looking men. One was the dark-haired girl, and
there was lovely contempt in her dark-star pools of eyes.

Then into the midst of this queer universe, there swam a new planet. It
was the face of a man, and the man was Devil Garrett.

That brought Star up, out of his daze, onto his feet as though he had
been doused with cold water. He stood there, not staring, just looking
at Garrett.

The most famous killer in the void was big. He was six feet three, and
twice as strong as he looked. He wore a huge high-velocity jet-gun, and
a set of electron knives, all of the finest workmanship. He was sitting
on a laboratory chair of steel, and the chair bent slightly under his
great weight.

He smiled at Star, and there was a touch of hell in the smile. He said,
"Ah, Mr. Garrett."

Star's jaw dropped. "Garrett? What do you--" he broke off. A glance at
the girl told him what the purpose was.

"Look, Mr. Devil Garrett," said the pirate, still smiling softly, "Miss
Hinton is aware of your identity. There is no need to attempt to fool
us.... I've known it was you ever since I flashed that beam at your
ship. And you needn't flatter yourself that the Devil's luck is going
to hold out as far as you are concerned. For in a very short while,
I'm going to have you executed ... before a stellar vision screen,
connected with Section Void Headquarters! I wish the authorities to see
Devil Garrett die, so that I might collect the reward that is offered
on you!"

Star stood quiet, and looked straight into Garrett's eyes. After a
minute of silence, Garrett's lips twisted into a smile, and he said
mockingly, "Well, pirate? What are you thinking of?"

Star said, in a low, cold voice, "I'm thinking of putting an electron
fire-blade into your face, Devil Garrett!"

Garrett laughed ... huge, rather evil, bluff laughter. The mirth of a
person who is both powerful and dangerous. And then the girl leaped
forward, shaking with rage.

"You beast! Murderer! To accuse this man ... you fool, you might have
been able to complete any scheme of escape you had, if you hadn't
called yourself Starrett Blade! Mr. Blade...." She gestured toward
Garrett, who made a mocking, sardonic bow. "... has given me ample
proof that he is who he says! And this long before you came. He's shown
me papers giving a description and showing a tri-dimension picture of
you...."

Fire leaped in Star's eyes. "Listen ..." he snapped furiously, as he
started to step forward. Then Garrett made a signal with his hand, and
someone drove a fist against the base of Star's skull.

       *       *       *       *       *

When Star came to, he was in a cell of sorts. A man standing by the
door told him that he was to be executed, "... after Mr. Blade and the
lady have eaten." Starrett swore at him, and the man went out, with a
mocking "Goodbye, Mr. Garrett!"

Star got up. His head spun, and he almost fell at first, but the daze
left in his head from the two blows quickly cleared away. He felt for
various weapons which he had hidden about him ... and found them gone.
Garrett's men had searched carefully.

Star sat down, his head spinning more now from mystery than from
physical pain. He had to keep himself in a whole skin, of course. That
was most important right now. But other things were bothering him,
tugging at his mind like waves slapping around a swamped ship, each
trying to shove it in a different direction.

There was the girl. Star wondered why she always leaped into his mind
first. And there was the way Garrett was trying to leave the impression
that he was Blade, so that he could kill Blade as Garrett.

Obviously, the reason for that was the girl, Miss Hinton, Garrett had
called her. She had been shown faked papers by Garrett, papers proving
that the two were ... were whatever Garrett had twisted the story into!

Star clutched at his head. He was in a mess. He was going to be killed,
and he was going to die without knowing the score. And he didn't like
that. Nor did he like dying as Star Blade shouldn't die; executed as
a "wolf's-head" pirate. The girl would be watching, and he felt as if
that would make it far worse.

His head came up, and he smiled flintily. He still had an ace card! One
hand felt for it, and he shook his head slowly. It was a gamble ... but
all the others had been found.

Blade looked up quickly, as the door opened. Two men came into the
cell, carrying jet-guns. They motioned Blade to his feet. "Come on,
Blade." One began, when the other hit him across the mouth.

"You fool!" he hissed. "You better not call him that; suppose that
girl was to hear it? Until the boss gets what he wants on Earth, that
girl has got to think that he's Blade! We're killing this guy as Devil
Garrett! And a loud-mouthed fool like you ... look out!"

Blade had landed on the bickering men, and was grappling with the one
who had called him by name. As the other leaped forward, swinging a
clubbing blow with a jet-gun, Star tripped one man into the corner, and
ducked under the gun. He hit the man in the stomach, drove a shoulder
up under his arms, and smashed the man's face in with a series of sharp
blows. The man went reeling backward across the room, and Star's hand
leaped toward that "ace card" which he still held.

Devil Garrett stepped in the door, and made a mock out of a courteous
bow. As he did so, Star snarled in rage, but stood very still, for the
electron knife in Garrett's hand did not waver.

Garrett gestured silently toward the door, and Star, equally silent,
walked over and out, at the point of the weapon.

       *       *       *       *       *

Star Blade stood before a transmitter, and thought about death.

He was very close to it. Garrett stood five yards away, a gun in
his hand, and the muzzle trained on Blade's chest. The gun was the
universally used weapon of execution, an old projectile-firing weapon.

Star did not doubt that Devil Garrett was an excellent shot with it.

The girl, very round-eyed and nervous, sat by Garrett. He had explained
to her that Garrett was the type of pirate that it is law to kill, or
have executed, by anyone. Which was very true.

A man stepped away from the transmitter, and nodded to Garrett. Star
felt a surge of hope, as he saw that it was a two-way transmitter. If
the image of an Interstellar Command headquarters was tuned in--Garrett
would undoubtedly do it, if only to show the police that he had killed
Starrett Blade--then Garrett could not kill him and cut the beam in
time to prevent one of the police from giving a cry that would echo
over the sub-space beam arriving almost instantly in this room, and let
the girl know that she had been tricked. And Garrett would not want
that. Not that it would matter to Starrett Blade.

Then Star saw what kind of a transmitter it was, and he groaned. It
was not a Hineson Sub-space beamer ... it was an old-style transmitter
which had different wave speeds, because of the different space-bridger
units in it.

The visual image would arrive many seconds before the sound did. Thus
the girl would not hear Garrett revealed, but would see only Blade's
death. And then ... whatever Garrett had planned, Blade wished heartily
that he could have the chance to interfere.

The beam was coming in. Star saw the mists swimming on the screen
change, solidify into a figure ... the figure of District Commander
Weddel seated at a desk. He saw Weddel's eyebrows rise, saw his lips
move--then Garrett stepped over a pace, and Weddel saw him, saw the gun
in his hand....

The police officer yelled, silently, and came to his feet, an
expression of shocked surprise on his face--surprise, Blade thought
desperately, that the girl might interpret as shock at seeing Devil
Garrett.

Which was right, in a way.

Then, as Commander Weddel leapt to his feet, as Devil Garrett's
finger tightened on the trigger, as the girl sucked in her breath
involuntarily, Star Blade scooped up a bit of metal--a fork--and flung
it at the vision transmitter.

Not at the screen. But at the equipment behind the dial-board. At a
certain small unit, which was almost covered by wires and braces for
the large tubes. And the fork struck it, bit deep, and caused result.

Result in the form of a burned-out set. If television equipment can
curse, that set cursed them. Its spitting of sparks and blue electric
flame mingled with a strange, high-pitched whine.

It was the diversion that caused Garrett to miss Star, which gave him
time to pull three or four of Garrett's men onto the floor with him.
One of the men drove the butt of a jet-gun into the side of Star's
head, and for the third time, he went very limp. The last thing he saw
was the girl.

Somehow, the expression on her face was different from what it had
been. He was searching for the difference, when the blow struck
him. Somewhere in the space that lies between consciousness and
unconsciousness, he reflected bitterly that if he kept staring at the
girl when he should be fighting, he might not recover some day. This
was the third time that he had been knocked out that way. It was not
getting monotonous. He still felt it a novelty.

Star awoke in the same prison cell, facing the wall away from the door.
He wondered if he were still alive, tried to move his head, and decided
that he wasn't. He didn't even get up or look around when he dimly
heard the door being opened.

But when he heard the girl's voice, he came up and around very swiftly,
despite his head.

It was the girl all right. Even through the tumbled mists of his brain,
he could see that she was not a dream. And as he reeled and fell
against the wall, she was beside him in a flash, her arm supporting him.

       *       *       *       *       *

At first he tried to push himself erect, his head whirling with sick
dizziness, and bewilderment. Through a twisting haze, he peered up at
the girl's face. It reflected a look that, amazingly, was one of--with
no other phrase to do--compassion. Star half-sighed, and laid his head
on the girl's breast, and closed his eyes.

In a minute or two, she said tensely, "Are you all right?" Star looked
up at her.

"I guess so. Here--give a hand while I get my balance." She held him as
he tried a step or two, and then he straightened. "I guess I'll be all
right, now," he smiled. "My head feels like--say! How come you're doing
this? What made you change your mind? And who are you?"

She said quickly, breathlessly, "I know you're Star Blade, now. That
transmission set.... I can read lips! I _knew_ what that officer was
saying! It was just as if I had _heard_ him say that ... that you were
Starrett Blade and that man out there is Devil Garrett!" she made a
choking sound. "And I've been here, alone, for a month! For a month!"

"A month? Huh--please--you...?"

Star took a breath, and started over. "You.... Who _are_ you? What are
you doing here?"

She said, "I'm Anne Hinton. My father is Old John Hinton. Have you
heard of him?"

"Of course!" said Star. "He manufactures most of the equipment '_Blade
Cosmian_' uses. Weapons, Hineson Sub-Spacers, Star-Traveler craft ...
the ship I was in when Garrett brought me down was a Hinton craft. I
should have recognized the name. But go on. What--"

"Garrett communicated with dad, secretly. He posed as Starrett
Blade, as you, and told dad that he was developing certain new power
processes. And he is! He has a new--or maybe it isn't so new--way of
electrolyzing water to liberate hydrogen and oxygen."

"I think I understand," said Star quickly. "When the oxygen and
hydrogen are allowed to combine, and produce an explosion which drive
a turbine-generator. Then that could be hitched up to a cyclotron, and
even the most barren of Alpha's lake-rock planets could be...."

"No," she shook her head puzzledly. "It's just electric power. He said
that atomics would release stray rays that would attract pirates."

"I know," Star nodded, abstractedly. "I was thinking of another
application of it ... hmm. But say! What was Garrett after? I know that
he wouldn't do this just to get a secret process sold. He must have had
another plan behind it. Got any idea?"

Anne shook her head slowly. "I don't know. I can't see...."

"Perhaps I could help you?" Devil Garrett asked smoothly from the door.

Star whirled, thrust Anne behind him, but there was no way out. Garrett
stood in the door, and there were men behind him. The jet in his hand
could kill both of the two at one shot. And they had no weapons to
resist with.

Devil Garrett stepped them out of the room, and down the corridor,
through a large door Star had noticed at the end of the passage, and
into a huge room.

It must have been a thousand feet long, and half that wide. It was at
least a hundred yards deep. And it was almost filled with gigantic
machines.

Between the machinery, the spaces were almost filled with steel ladders
and cat-walks. Crews of men swarmed over them. It was the largest mass
of equipment Starrett had ever seen.

His eyes began to pick out details. Those huge vat-like things down
at the far end, with the large cables running into them, and the
mighty pumps connected to them ... they were probably the electrolysis
chambers.

And those great pipes, they must carry the hydrogen and oxygen from
the electro chambers to the large replicas of engines, which could be
nothing else but the explosion chambers, where the gases were allowed
to re-unite, and explode. And there by the giant engines, those must be
turbines, which in turn connected with the vast-sized generators just
under the platforms on which they stood.

       *       *       *       *       *

Star Blade whistled softly through his teeth. A huge enterprise! It
could be ... but for a moment he had forgotten Devil Garrett.

The girl standing by his side, Star turned toward Garrett. "Well?"

Garrett smiled his mocking grin. "You grasp the principle, of course.
But let me show you ... you see those pipes that run from the turbines
after the wheels?"

"Yes. They carry the gases off. Where do they lead?"

"Into giant subterranean caverns beneath the surface!" Garrett said.
"Now look over there, on the platforms across from us. Can you
recognize a Barden energy-beamer, Blade? Run by power from my little
plant here, which is run by water from a thousand lakes!

"Just imagine, if you can, hundreds of those plants all over Alpha
III. And each one with dozens of high-powered Barden beams to protect
it! And Hinton ray screens to protect us from radio-controlled rocket
shells from space, or Barden Rays, or any other weapon of offence, or
to warn if anyone lands on this planet!" Garrett leaned forward, his
eyes aglow.

"Blade, I'll take over the few governing posts on this little planet,
and I'll rule an entire world, a whole planet to myself! It'll be the
first time in history! And it won't be the last. With the Hinton secret
patents, the plans of all John Hinton's inventions and processes...."

Star twisted, and got his "ace card" out of its hiding place.

It was a jet weapon, little more than a jet-blast capsule for a
jet-gun. The sides were thicker and stronger, and there was a device
fixed on it so it could be fired. Altogether, it was somewhat smaller
than an old-style fountain pen.

He twisted up from the floor, and moved faster than he had moved ever
before. Star was famous for his speed and the quickness and alertness
of his reflexes. He earned his fame a score of times over in that one
instant.

And Devil Garrett died.

There was perhaps an eighth of a second between the staff of blue white
fire from the tiny jet in Star's hand and the huge broadsword of fire
from Garrett's gun. But in the split-second Star's fire knifed into
Garrett's vitals, and Garrett gave a convulsive jerk, and fired even as
his muscles started the jerking movement.

And the flame went over Star's head, singeing his scalp.

Of the four men with Garrett, one let go of the struggling Anne, and
swore as he snatched at an electron knife in his belt. Anne's hand
had already whipped the knife out, and without bothering to press the
electron stud, she buried the knife in his back.

Two of the remaining men whirled, and went for the door as though a
devil was after them. The other tried to get a jet-gun out. It was his
final mistake. A blue lance from Anne's knife whipped close enough to
him to make him dodge, and then Star got his hand on Garrett's jet.

The other two men had, in their flight, taken a door which led, not
into the large corridor, but into a small room at one side, a room
filled with instruments and recording devices for the machinery in the
room below. Star leaped to the side of the door, and called, "Are you
going to come out, or am I coming in to get you?"

There was a short silence, in which Anne heard one say hoarsely, "He
can't get us ... we could get him if he came in the door."

"Oh, yes?" was the answer. "Do you know who that guy is? He's the one
they call 'Death Star.' I'm not facing Starrett Blade in a gun fight.
You can do what you like, but I'm leaving." Then he lifted his voice.
"Hey, Blade! I'm coming out. Don't shoot."

       *       *       *       *       *

"Okay," threw back Star and the man appeared in the doorway, empty
hands held high. After a second, the other joined him.

Anne turned to Star. "Now I know why they call you 'Death Star' Blade,"
she said, and gestured toward the men who had surrendered, and the two
whom Starrett had shot down.

He mused there for a minute. Then Anne broke the silence with, "Star,
what are we going to do now? Garrett's men will be up here in a little
while. We can't get to a sub-space beam. What are we going to do when
they come up to investigate?"

Starrett Blade laughed. "Do? Well, we could turn them over to Commander
Weddel!"

"_What?_"

Grinning broadly, Star pointed, with a flourish, at the door. Anne
spun about, and found Commander Weddel grinning in the door from the
corridor.

"Very simple," said Star across the lounge to Anne. "When I smashed
the vision set with that dinner fork, I broke a small unit which is
included in all sets. You know, a direction finder doesn't work, except
in the liner-beam principle, in space, because of the diffusing effect
of unrestricted cosmic rays."

"Yes, I knew that," said Anne. "But how--"

Starrett grinned again. "A type of beam has been found which it is
impossible for cosmics to disturb. But you can't send messages on
it, so it is made in a little unit on every set. If that unit is
broken, the set automatically releases a signal beam. This is a
distress signal, and the location of the set that sent out the signal
is recorded at the Section Headquarters. When Commander Weddel saw
me throw something at the set, and it went dead, he looked at the
automatic record, and found out that a signal had been sent in from
a location on Alpha Cen's third planet. Then he had a high-velocity
cruiser brought out and dropped in, in time to pick up some pieces." He
stopped, and idly toyed with a sheaf of papers, then held them up. "See
these papers?"

"Uh-huh. What are they, Star?"

"They are the main plans of Devil Garrett's power plant, and they're
the one good thing he's ever done. These plans are going to bring the
barren, rocky Centauri planets to life!"

He got up, and paced to the window, and stood there, looking out, and
up through the plastic port. "The planets of Centauri!" he murmured
softly. "Seven circling Alpha alone. And all seven are barren, rocky,
level except for the thousands of lakes ... lakes that are going to be
the life of Centauri!"

       *       *       *       *       *

He turned back to the window. "And all because a pirate named Devil
Garrett built a vast power plant to use to garner more power!"

"You know, Anne, as a mockery, and a warning, I think I'll propose that
this planet be officially named ... 'Garrett'!"

She looked up at him, and there was laughter bright in her eyes, and
tugging at her mouth. "Yes, there ought to be a reason," she murmured.
Star wavered. She was so darn close.

After a minute, she turned her head, and looked up at him. "Star, how
soon will there be those gardens and woods you described? I mean,
how long before Garrett can be turned into that kind of world you
described?"

"Why ... under pressure, we can do it in six months. Why?"

"Not half quick enough," she murmured happily, "but it'll have to do,
Star." Laughing, she turned her face up to his. "Have you ever thought
that planet Garrett will be wonderful for a honeymoon?"