illustrated by MARTIN
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Magazine December 1960.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Channing wanted a planet.
Had they sold him a pup?
Ex-vector Commander Jim Channing strode purposefully to the reception
desk of Planet Enterprises, Inc.
"I want," he told the well-built blonde who was making an interested
survey of his lean features, "to buy a planet."
"Yes, sir." Her interest evaporated. She took a card from a filing
cabinet and handed it to him. "If you will just fill this out."
It was a simple questionnaire--type, location, size--and Channing's
stylo moved rapidly over it. He hesitated only at the last, stark
question, "How much are you prepared to pay?" Then he wrote neatly
in the space provided "One hundred thousand credits." That was
exactly the amount of his signing-off bonus. It also represented his
total finances. The unimaginative minds that calculated the pay of a
red-blooded space officer didn't take into account all the attractive
ways of spending it that a rumbustious pioneer Vector provided.
He gave the blonde the card and she wrote a name on it. The smile she
gave him was altogether impersonal. She liked the look of the big,
gangling fellow with "Space" written all over his bronzed face and
crinkled blue eyes, but....