Noble Redman Read online

made me pickRedman up. I figured that he'd be grateful to the tune of a couple ofkilomunits but what was a couple of thousand if Abie thought I wasmixed up in this? Lucky I had a spaceship even if she was anunconverted Centaurian. I could stand the cramped quarters a lotbetter than I could take a session in Abie's back room. I'd seen whathappened to guys who went in there, and it wasn't pretty. "To thespaceport," I said, "and don't spare the hydrocarbons."

  "Gotcha!" the jock said and the whine of the turbine increased anotherten decibels.

  "Thanks, Wallingford," Redman said. "If you hadn't pulled me out I'dhave had to shoot somebody. And I don't like killing. It brings toomany lawmen into the picture." He was as cool as ice. I had to admirehis nerve.

  "Thanks for nothing," I said. "I figured you'd be grateful in a moresolid manner."

  "Like this?" he thrust a handful of bills at me. There must have beenfour thousand in that wad. It cheered me up a little.

  "Tell me where you want to get off," I said.

  "You said you have a spaceship," he countered.

  "I do, but it's a Centaurian job. I might be able to squeeze into itbut I doubt if you could. About the only spot big enough for youwould be the cargo hold, and the radiation'd fry you before we evenmade Venus."

  He grinned at me. "I'll take the chance," he said.

  "Okay, sucker," I thought. "You've been warned." If he came along he'ddamn well go in the hold. I could cut the drives after we got clear ofMars and dump him out--after removing his money, of course. "Well," Isaid aloud, "it's your funeral."

  "You're always saying that," he said with chuckle in his voice.

  * * * * *

  We checked out at the airlock and drove out to the spaceport over thesand-filled roadbed that no amount of work ever kept clean. We clearedthe port office, drew spacesuits from Post Supply, and went out to myyacht. Redman looked at her, his heart in his eyes. He seemedoverwhelmed by it.

  "Lord! she's beautiful!" he breathed, as he looked at the slimpolished length standing on her broad fins, nose pointed skyward.

  "Just a Starflite-class yacht," I said.

  "Look, Cyril," he said. "Will you sell her?"

  "If we get to Venus alive and you still want to buy her, she'll costyou--" I hesitated, "twenty-five thousand."

  "Done!" he said. It came so fast that I figured I should have askedfor fifty.

  "The fuel will be extra," I said. "Fifty munits an ounce. There'smaybe ten pounds of it."

  "How far will that take me?"

  "About ten light-years at cruising speed. Gold is economical."

  "That should be far enough," he said with a faint smile.

  We drew the boarding ladder down and prepared to squeeze aboard. As Ifigured it, we had plenty of time, but I hadn't counted on that nosyguard at the check station, or maybe that character at the southairlock of the dome, because I was barely halfway up the ladder to thehatch when I heard the howl of a racing turbine and two headlightscame cutting through the night over the nearest dune. The speed withwhich that car was coming argued no good.

  "Let's go," I said, making with the feet.

  "I'm right behind you," Redman said into my left heel. "Hurry! Thoseguys are out for blood!"

  I tumbled through the lock and wiggled up the narrow passageway. Bysome contortionist's trick Redman came through the hatch feet first,an odd looking gun in his hand. Below us the turbo screeched to a stopand men boiled out, blasters in hand. They didn't wait--just startedfiring. Electrostatic discharges leaped from the metal of the ship,but they were in too much of a hurry. The gun in Redman's fiststeadied as he took careful aim. A tiny red streak hissed out of themuzzle--and the roof fell in! A thunderous explosion and aneye-wrenching burst of light filled the passageway through the slit inthe rapidly closing hatch. The yacht rocked on her base like a tree ina gale, as the hatch slammed shut.

  "What in hell was _that_?" I yelped.

  "Just a low yield nuclear blast," Redman said. "About two tons. Thoselads won't bother us any more."

  "You fool!--you stupid moronic abysmal fool!" I said dully. "You'renot content to get Abie on our heels. Now you've triggered off thewhole Galactic Patrol. Don't you know that nuclear weapons arebanned--that they've been banned ever since our ancestors destroyedEarth--that their use calls for the execution of the user? Just wheredo you come from that you don't know the facts of life?"

  "Earth," Redman said.

  * * * * *

  It left me numb. Any fool knew that there was no life on thatradioactive hell. Even now, spacers could see her Van Allen bandsburning with blue-green fire. Earth was a sterile world--a horribleexample, the only forbidden planet in the entire galaxy, a galacticchamber of horrors ringed with automatic beacons and patrol ships towarn strangers off. We Martians, Earth's nearest neighbor, had thewhole history of that last suicidal war drummed into us as children.After all, we _were_ the cradle of Galactic civilization even thoughwe got that way by being driven off Earth--and feeling that almost anyplace would be better than Mars. Mars iron built the ships and poweredthe atomics that had conquered the galaxy. But we knew Earth betterthan most, and to hear those words from Redman's lips was a shock.

  "You're a damn liar!" I exploded.

  "You're entitled to your opinion," Redman said, "but you should knowthe truth when it is told to you. I _am_ from Earth!"

  "But--" I said.

  "You'd better get out of here," Redman said, "your Patrol will be hereshortly."

  I was thinking that, too. So I wiggled my way up to the control room,braced myself against the walls and fired the jets. Accelerationcrushed me flat as the ship lifted and bored out into space.

  As quickly as I could, I cut the jets so the Patrol couldn't trace usby our ion trail, flipped the negative inertia generator on and gavethe ship one minimal blast that hurled her out of sight. We coasted ata few thousand miles per second along the plane of the ecliptic whilewe took stock.

  Redman had wedged himself halfway into the control room and eyed mycramped body curiously. "It's a good thing you're a runt," he said."Otherwise we'd be stuck down there." He laughed. "You look like ajack in the box--all coiled up ready to spring out."

  But I was in no mood for humor. Somehow I felt that I'd been conned."What do I get out of this?" I demanded.

  "A whole skin--at least for awhile."

  "That won't do me any good unless I can take it somewhere."

  "Don't worry," Redman said. "They don't give a damn about you. It's methey want, turn on your radio and see."

  I flipped the switch and a voice came into the control room--"remindyou that this is a Galactic emergency! The Patrol has announced thatan inhabitant of Earth has been on Mars! This individual isdangerously radioactive. A reward of one hundred thousand Galacticmunits will be paid to the person who gives information leading to hisdeath or capture. I repeat,--_one hundred thousand munits_! The man'sdescription is as follows: Height 180 centimeters, weight 92kilograms, eyes reddish brown, hair red. A peculiarity which makes himeasily recognized is the red color of his skin. He is armed with anuclear weapon and is dangerous. When last seen he was leavingMarsport spacefield. Starflite class yacht, registration number CY127439. He has a citizen with him, probably a hostage. If seen, notifythe nearest Patrol ship."

  * * * * *

  I looked at Redman. The greed must have shone from me like a beacon."A hundred grand!" I said softly.

  "Try and collect," Redman said.

  "I'm not going to," I said and turned three separate plans to capturehim over in my head.

  "They won't work," Redman said. He grinned nastily. "And don't worryabout radioactivity. I'm no more contaminated than you are."

  "Yeah?--and just how do you live on that hotbox without beingcontaminated?" I asked.

  "Simple. The surface isn't too hot in the first place. Most of thestuff is in the Van Allen belts. Second, we live underground. Andthird we're protected."

&
nbsp; "How?"

  "Where do you think this red skin comes from? It isn't natural. Evenyou should know that. Actually we had the answer to protection duringthe Crazy Years before the blowup when everybody talked peace andbuilt missiles. A bacteriologist named Anderson discovered it whileworking with radiation sterilized food. He isolated a whole family ofbacteria from the food that not only survived, but lived