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 the
big rocket freighter draw closer to their drifting position off Saturn.

Jake moistened his thin purple lips and clenched the radiophone
tighter. "Hello, freighter!" he repeated. "We're survivors of a
shipwreck. Can you pick us up? Please answer." His voice grew more
urgent. "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 gun
hidden 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 spread
over his pudgy baby-face. "They're slowing down."

The radio receiver came to life. "Hello, survivors. We hear your
message 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 two
hundred 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 your
while. Be patient a few minutes longer."

The cargo hold of the freighter opened. A rocket-propelled net shot out
into space. Their tiny unit was caught up like a fish and dragged into
the 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 hour
and 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 your
crew?"

"Eight altogether," said the mate. "Perhaps you had better tell the
captain about your accident."

He led them to the bridge. It was a darkened compartment, with green
luminescent control panel, and a great steel-glass turret overlooking
the universe. Dominating the scene was a huge, dramatic closeup of
Saturn, girdled by its thin, tilted rings.

"You are the captain?" said Jake to the grave elderly man at the
controls.

"I am. You are the survivors?"

Jake and his companions bared their guns.

"Call your entire crew," said Jake, pressing the muzzle into the
captain's side. "I want to see eight men in this room."

"Ah," said the captain sadly. "So this is what our mercy stop has let
us 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. "Why
don'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 Jake. "I haven't said anything about what I was going to
do with you."

The eight looked at one another, then slowly, apprehensively, entered
the air lock.

Matt pushed the button closing the inner door. Henry pushed the button
opening the outer door.

Eight bodies drifted in space.

Jake took over the freighter's controls.

"You sure you can find your way to Japetus?" Matt queried. "That moon
is just a glorified piece of rock."

"No trouble at all. Remember when we landed there? I left our ship's
radio on, sending out a carrier beam. We'll just follow it in on
directional-automatic."

"Hey, Jake," said Henry. "How about the cargo? I've been looking over
the cargo manifest, and all it says is five thousand carboys of oxygen."

"Oxygen?" said Matt, with rising concern. "When we were on Titan you
told us this ship contained something very valuable."

"Yeah, Jake, what's the story?"

"Calm down, you two. This oxygen cargo is the most valuable stuff in
the solar system right now."

"Aw come on," said Matt. "All you have to do is breathe to get a lung
full of it. Is this some joke?"

"Eight dead men aren't my idea of a joke," said Henry, a frown crossing
his pudgy features.

"All right," said Jake. "This was top secret information on Titan.
There's been a bad leak in the city dome. They're losing tons of air
every day, and so far no one's been able to find the hole."

"I didn't hear anything about it when I was there," said Matt.

"Of course not. The engineers have kept it from the colonists so there
wouldn't be a stampede to get out. Because there aren't nearly enough
ships to evacuate everybody."

"Then just where do we come in?" asked Henry.

Jake shook his head impatiently. "Can't you see? This is an emergency
shipment of oxygen for Titan. Their reserves are just about gone. They
figured it would take about ten days to check the entire dome, but
they've only got about three days' supply of oxygen left."

Matt nodded approvingly. "I'm beginning to see it now. When that's
gone, they'll pay any price to get more."

"You've got it," said Jake. "There's a Federation bank on Titan with
assets of thirty million. We'll take every penny."

Henry was worried. "Well, what if they find that hole before the three
days are up. Then we won't be in such a good bargaining position."

"In that case," said Jake, his grey eyes flickering like chalcedony,
"we'll make a new hole."

       *       *       *       *       *

They landed on Japetus.

"Now, one of us has to deliver the ultimatum," said Jake. "One of us
has to go back to Titan and tell them our terms."

"Isn't that pretty risky?" said Matt. "They'll hold that guy hostage."

"No, we aren't doing it that way." Jake withdrew an envelope from his
coat. "We just get there and mail this registered letter to the city
manager. It says, deliver the money to Hyperion, and no monkey business
or we destroy the oxygen. That means, the city dies if anyone tries to
tail us or pull a double cross."

"They won't take a chance when so many lives are at stake," said Henry.
"And we'll each make ten million on the deal."

"All right," said Matt. "Which of us goes?"

Jake cut up three slips of paper. "Let's draw lots," he suggested.
"That's the fairest way."

Henry drew the assignment.

"Be sure to bring back some whiskey," said Matt. "We forgot to lay in a
supply."

Henry took off for Titan.

Jake turned to Matt. "Look," he said, "I arranged it so Henry would
take the letter because I wanted to talk to you. When you come right
down to it, Matt, what need do we have for three people in the deal?"

Matt slowly nodded his thick black head of hair, as comprehension
spread over his features.

"With just two people to divide up the pot, our shares would be fifteen
million apiece," said Jake.

"And less chance of getting caught afterwards," Matt added.

They shook hands.

Henry returned from Titan eight hours later.

"I mailed the letter," he said. "And I bought the whiskey."

"Good," said Matt, "pour us all a drink."

Henry started to uncork the bottle. Jake and Matt reached for their
guns and shot him simultaneously. A look of bewilderment crossed his
baby face as he fell dead.

The whiskey bottle tipped over, but Matt retrieved it quickly, before
more than half had spilled. With an amused look at the dead partner, he
lifted the bottle to his lips and took a deep swig.

Matt handed the bottle to Jake, who drank several ounces. But his
enjoyment was interrupted by a bleating sound from the ship's
proximity alarm.

"There's another ship nearby!" said Jake in alarm.

A rocket ship appeared suddenly overhead.

"That's a police ship from Titan!" Matt exclaimed. "But how on Saturn
could they have known we were here?"

"They must have trailed Henry. That stupid fool probably took his time
about buying the whiskey, and the letter got delivered before he left
Titan!"

He strode to the ship's radio.

"It won't do them any good, though. I'll tell 'em I'll blast the entire
cargo if they land!"

Abruptly, Jake felt a sharp pain in his belly. His throat and windpipe
were dry, terribly dry and scorched.

"What's wrong with me?" he exclaimed.

Then he turned to see Matt doubled over in agony.

"The whiskey," Matt whispered hoarsely. "Henry...."

"Poisoned!" Jake gasped. "The dirty double-crosser!"

When the police agents of Titan forced their way into the ship, they
found the three thieves side by side.