"The Hotel Cosmos. Das Shamra is very anxious to see you. He is a very
generous man."
Kendall had been long taught never to trust a blueskin. But in his
present state of mind, he didn't give much of a damn. He was numb with
cold, and whoever this Das Shamra was, he was indoors. At the moment
that was all that mattered.
"Buy me a drink," Kendall told the Martian. "I need a little
pick-me-up. Then you can take me to Das Shamra."
* * * * *
The blueskin and Kendall stopped off at a bar at the corner. The
Martian ordered a mug of the insipid Mars beer; Kendall smirked at
the brownish-green liquid and said to the barkeep, "Give me a double
_valdoz_."
"Sure thing, friend."
"You're really going in for the strong stuff, aren't you?" the Martian
asked, as the drink arrived.
"The way I feel, I need it. Besides, why settle for that sludge you
call beer when the drinks are on the house?"
"A good point," the Martian admitted. "Das Shamra can afford it." He
drained his beer, and, as Kendall poured the fiery _valdoz_ down his
throat, the blueskin said, "Have another. I'll pay."
"No thanks," Kendall said. "_Valdoz_ isn't something you swill like
beer. And I'd just as soon face Das Shamra sober, thank you. Let's go."
The Martian spun a coin and left it on the counter. They went out into
the street again--but with the potent brew within him, Kendall felt
much happier about having to face the Martian winds.
He was just a little unsteady. The beating had helped, of course, and
so had the drink. Normally he wasn't a drinking man; alcohol played
hell with the reflexes, and his reflexes were his most valued property.
But not any more, he thought dully. Not now, when he'd been kicked out
of the Service.
The blueskin led him down the twisting byways of Mars City, through
heaps of filth and dark alleys. Mars was an old planet, cold and arid;
its cities were thousands of years old, its people well skilled in the
arts of evil. It wasn't the sort of planet an Earthman liked to stay on
for long.
Kendall scowled. The way it looked, he'd be here longer than he was
counting on. Hell, it would cost fifty dollars just to radio Earth and
tell Kathy what had happened.
But he couldn't tell her. Not now, when she was about to have the baby.
Not when she was so proud of the spaceman she saw only a few weeks out
of each year. How could he tell her that he'd flunked the six-month
exam?
"In here," the Martian said. "Das Shamra's suite is upstairs."
The Hotel Cosmos looked to Kendall like one of the better
establishments on Mars. But even so, it wasn't very appetizing. Its
hallways were dark and narrow: occasionally a groan or a harsh whisper
could be heard coming from behind a thick wooden door. He didn't like
the place.
"This is the floor," the blueskin said.
He opened the door and stepped inside. Moving cautiously, ready to turn
tail and get out if something looked wrong, Kendall followed him.