"Can I speak with you a minute, spaceman?"
Roger turned from the automatic food dispenser and stared at a wizened
little man standing beside him, grinning up at him toothlessly.
"What do you want?" asked Roger.
"Just talk. Let's sit down at this table, eh?" said the little man,
taking the cadet by the arm. "Gotta little deal I think you might be
interested in."
Roger cast a quick appraising glance over the shabbily dressed man and
walked to the table. Unless someone knew Roger personally, it would have
been hard to recognize him. No longer wearing the vivid blue of the
senior Space Cadet, he was now dressed in black trousers fitting snugly
around the legs, a midnight blue pull-over jersey, and the black-billed
hat of the merchant spaceman. His once close-cropped blond hair was
beginning to grow shaggy around the edges, and with the hat pulled low
over his forehead, he might have been another person entirely.
Leaving the space station on the jet liner had been easy for Roger,
since no one suspected he would violate his trust. But once his absence
was discovered and the warrant issued for his arrest, it had been
necessary for him to assume some sort of disguise to elude the Solar
Guard MP's. Roger had wound up on Spaceman's Row in Venusport as a
matter of course. Luckily, when he left the station, he had the
foresight to take all of his money with him, so he was not yet in need.
On Spaceman's Row, Roger found the new freedom from discipline enjoyable
at first, but now the novelty had worn off. Having visited all of the
interesting places on the Row, existence there had become boring. His
one attempt to leave Spaceman's Row had nearly met with disaster.
Running into a squad of Solar Guard MP's, he had made a hurried escape
into a near-by jet taxi. Back on the Row, Roger had lounged around the
cafes, feeling the loneliness that haunts men wanted by the law. And
only because he was so lonely he had agreed to talk to the little man
who sat and stared at him from across the table.
"You a rocket pusher, astrogator, or skipper?" asked the little man.
"Who wants to know?" asked Roger cautiously.
"Look, sonny boy," was the quick retort. "I'm Mr. Shinny! I'm the fixer
of Spaceman's Row. You want something, come to me and I'll get it for
you. I don't care why you're here. That ain't none of my business. But
the fact remains that you're here, and you don't come down here unless
you're in trouble space deep!"
Roger looked at the little man more closely. "Suppose I am in something
deep? What could you do for me?" he asked.
"What would you want done?" asked Shinny slyly.
"Well," said Roger casually, "I could use a set of papers."
"What happened to your own?"
"Solar Guard picked them up," answered Roger simply.
"For what?" asked Shinny.
"Taking ice cream away from the skipper's pet monkey!" snapped Roger.
Shinny threw back his head and laughed. "That's good--very good!" He
wiped his mouth after spitting at a near-by cuspidor. He reached over
and patted Roger on the arm. "You'll do, sonny! You'll do right well on
the Row. Join me in a little acceleration sport?"
"What's that?" asked Roger.
"Rocket juice!" said Shinny. "Ain't you never heard of rocket juice?"
"I've heard about it," said Roger with a smile, "and I'm still here to
talk about it because I never drank any of it." Roger liked the little
man for some reason--he couldn't tell why. He had met several people on
the Row since his arrival, but they had all wanted to know how many
credits he had and where he was staying.
"I took a jolt of that stuff once in Luna City," said Roger. "I was
ready to blast off without a rocket ship!"
Shinny laughed again. "Good lad! Well, you won't mind if I have just a
little one?" He paused and wiped his lips. "On you, of course!"
"One"--Roger held up his finger--"on me, of course!"
"Hey, there!" yelled Shinny. "You, with the asteroid head! Gimme a short
bucket of that juice and bring a bottle of Martian fizz along with it!"
The bartender nodded, and Shinny turned back to Roger. "Martian fizz is
nothing more than a little water with sugar in it," he explained.
"Yeah, I know," replied Roger. "What about those papers?"
"I'll talk to you, spaceman to spaceman," said Shinny, "when you're
ready to talk to me, spaceman to spaceman!"
They were silent while the bartender slopped a glass full of bluish
liquid in front of Shinny and the bottle of Martian fizz and a glass in
front of Roger. Roger paid for the drinks and poured a glass of the mild
sweet water. Sipping it silently, he suddenly put the glass down again
and looked Shinny in the eye.
"You know who I am," he stated quietly.
"Yep!" replied Shinny. "You're Roger Manning, Space Cadet! Breach of
honor and violation of the Spaceman's Oath. Escaped from the Venus space
station on a jet liner. But one of the best men on a radar scanner and
astrogation prism in the whole alliance!" Shinny related the information
rapidly.
"He had known all the time," thought Roger. "He was testing me." Roger
wondered why.
"What are you going to do about it?" questioned Roger, thinking about
the one-thousand-credit reward, standard price offered by the Solar
Guard for all wanted men.
"If I had wanted to, I could have bought the finest jet liner in space
with money made on Solar Guard rewards," snapped Shinny. "We got our own
spaceman's code here on the Row. It goes something like this. What a man
wants to bring with him down here, he brings. What he don't bring, don't
exist!"
Roger smiled and stuck out his hand. "All right, Mr. Shinny! I want a
set of papers--space papers! Made out in any name, so that I can get out
into space again. I don't care where I go or on what, or how long I'm
gone. I just gotta blast off!"
"You want papers for the astrogation deck, or control, or as a power
pusher?" asked Shinny.
Roger thought a moment. "Better make them for the control deck," he
said.
"Credits," said Shinny. "You have any credits?"
"How much?" asked Roger.
"One hundred now," said Shinny, and then added, "and one hundred when I
deliver."
"Guaranteed papers?"
"Positively!" snorted Shinny. "I don't sell things that ain't good! I'm
an honest man!"
Roger reached inside his jersey and pulled out a small roll of crumpled
credit notes. He counted off one hundred and handed them over to Shinny.
"When do I get the papers?" asked Roger.
"Tomorrow, same place, same time," answered Shinny.
"What's the name of this place?" asked Roger.
"Cafe Cosmos."
Roger picked up his glass of sweet water, raising it in a toast to the
little man in front of him. "Until tomorrow, Mr. Shinny, when you come
here with the papers, or I come looking for you with bare knuckles!"
"You don't scare me!" snapped Shinny. "I'll be here!"
Roger tilted his chair back and smiled his casual smile. "I know you'll
be back, Mr. Shinny. You see, I really mean what I say. And more
important, _you_ know I mean what I say!"
Shinny got up. "Tomorrow, same time, same place," he said, hurrying out
the door.
Roger finished the bottle of Martian fizz, suddenly very depressed. He
didn't really want the false papers. He just wanted to get away from the
deadly humdrum existence on Spaceman's Row. He walked wearily back to
his scrubby little bedroom to wait for night to come. He hated to go
back to the room, because he knew he would think about Tom and Astro and
the Space Academy. Now he couldn't allow himself to think about it any
more. It was past. Finished.
"You got _who_?" asked Loring.
"I said I got the best astrogator in the deep for ya!" snapped Shinny.
Loring looked at Mason and then suddenly burst out laughing, dropping
his head on the table.
"What's the matter with you?" demanded Shinny. "You got space fever or
something?"
Mason, sitting quietly in the dirty hotel room, was grinning from ear to
ear.
"So you got Manning for us, eh?" repeated Loring at last. "I wanta tell
you something, Shinny. I was the one that got that kid to break outta
that space station!"
"You what?" asked Shinny. The little spaceman had come to like the
straightforwardness of Roger.
"That's right," said Loring. "When Mason and me loused up taking over
the _Annie Jones_, that kid, Manning, was on the radar watch at the
station. At the same time we were gonna crash into the station he
crossed a coupla wires and was talking to his girl back on Earth! They
think _he_ fouled up the radar and caused the crash!"
"Then he's your fall guy," commented Shinny thoughtfully.
"Right," said Loring. "And now you come along and tell us that we can
get him to astrogate us out to Tara! I tell ya, Mason, this is the
greatest gag I've heard in years!"
"Yeah," agreed Mason, his weak mouth still stretched in a stupid grin,
"but you have to be careful he never finds out it was us that got him
into all his trouble!"
"Leave that to me," said Loring. "He'll never know a thing. In fact,
he'll thank us for getting him off the station and then giving him a
chance to get back in space." He turned to Shinny. "You got the ship?"
"I told you before," said Shinny, "there ain't anything to be had."
"Well, we gotta have a ship," said Loring. "A fortune waiting for us in
the deep and no space wagon to go get it!"
"There _is_ a ship," said Shinny. "Not too good, but a spaceship."
"Where?" asked Loring.
"Near Venusport. Out in the jungles, to be exact. Needs a little fixing,
but it'll make a deep space hop well enough."
"Who does it belong to?" demanded Loring.
"Me," said Shinny, a strange twinkle in his eyes.
"_You?_" gasped Loring. "By the craters of Luna, where did you get a
spaceship?"
"Fifteen years ago a freighter was forced down in the jungles right near
Venusport," said Shinny. "I was prospecting near by for pitchblende,
back when everybody thought Venus was loaded with it. I saw the crew
leave in jet boats. Soon as they was out of sight I went over to take a
look. I wanted to see if there was any grub I could swipe and save
myself a trip back to Venusport for more supplies. Anyway, I went aboard
and found the grub all right, but I got nosy about why they had made an
emergency touchdown. I looked around the power deck and found they had
busted their reaction timer. I got the idea then of fixing it up and
bringing it back to Venusport to give them young jerks a surprise. I
lifted her off the ground and then figured why should I give it back?
Just move it someplace else and let the vines and creepers grow over it
for a few days."
"Didn't the crew come back looking for it?" asked Loring.
"Did they?" chortled Shinny. "I'll say they did! Almost drove them poor
fellers crazy. I guess they searched for that old wagon for three months
before giving up."
"And--and you mean it's still there--and in good condition?" asked
Loring.
"Needs a little fuel," said Shinny, "and probably a good overhaul, but I
don't think there's anything serious the matter with it."
"By the craters of Luna," exclaimed Loring, "we'll blast off
immediately!"
"Hold on," said Shinny. "I didn't say I'd give it to you."
"Well, what do you want for it?" demanded Loring.
"Now let me see," mused Shinny. "I figure that if _you_ figure to get as
much as twenty million credits out of the copper, a full quarter share
ought to be about right."
"Five million credits for a--a ship that's been rotting in the jungle
for fifteen years!" exclaimed Loring.
"She's in good shape," defended Shinny. "I go out there every six months
or so and turn over the reactors just to keep 'em from getting rusty."
"Why didn't you try to do something with it before?" asked Loring.
"Never had no occasion to," answered Shinny. "Well, is it a deal, or
isn't it?"
"Too much," snapped Loring.
"That's my price," said Shinny.
"I could take the ship and not give you anything," sneered Loring.
"If the Solar Guard looked for three months in that jungle, with a
hundred men and instruments, do you think you'll find it?"
"I'll give you a fifth share," said Loring.
"Nope," said Shinny, "I've named my price. You either take it or leave
it!" He glared at Loring.
Mason finally spoke. "Take it, Loring," he said, "and let's get out of
here. I'm getting jittery over that investigation that's coming up on
the station."
"All right," said Loring, "it's a deal. One quarter share for the ship."
"Done!" said Shinny--"Now I guess we'd better go talk to that boy
Manning, eh?"
"Don't you think it'll be a little dangerous taking him along?" whined
Mason.
"Yeah, maybe you're right," said Loring.
[Illustration]
"If it was me," said Shinny, "I wouldn't give it a second thought.
You're going into _deep_ space. It ain't like a hop to Mars or Titan.
This is as deep as you can go. If I was you, I'd want the best there is
in my crew. And from what I've heard about that young feller, he's the
best there is on the radar bridge. You know who his father was?"
"Who?" asked Mason.
"Ken--" Shinny suddenly closed his mouth tight. "Just another spaceman,"
he said, "but a good one!" He rose quickly. "Well, I'm supposed to meet
Manning in an hour at the Cosmos."
[Illustration]
The three men left the dingy hotel and walked out into the main street
of Spaceman's Row. In a few moments they arrived at the Cafe Cosmos.
Roger was already there, seated at the same table and watching the
door. When he saw Loring and Mason with Shinny, he eyed them warily.
"Hiya, kid!" greeted Loring. "Glad to see you took my advice and got
away from 'Blast-off' Connel." Mason waved a salute, and the three men
sat down.
Roger ignored Loring and Mason, speaking directly to Shinny. "Did you
complete our deal?" he asked softly.
"Nope," answered Shinny. "I brought you another one instead."
Roger held out his hand. "My one hundred credits--_now!_"
"Never mind the credits, kid," said Loring, "we've got more important
things to talk about."
Roger continued to look at Shinny, his palm outstretched on the top of
the table. "One hundred credits," he repeated coldly.
Reluctantly, Shinny handed over the money. Slowly, carefully, Roger
counted the bills, and then, after putting them away, he turned to face
Loring for the first time.
"You said you have something important to discuss with me?" he drawled.
"I see you learned fast, kid!" said Loring with a crooked smile. "I
wouldn't trust Shinny as far as I could throw a comet!"
Mason laughed loudly. The other three merely glared at him, and he
stopped abruptly.
"Here's the proposition, Manning," said Loring, leaning across the
table. "I've gotta ship and I wanta make a hop into deep space. I want
you to do the astrogation!"
"I'm interested," said Roger. "Keep talking."
Briefly Loring described the copper satellite, its potential value, and
what they expected to get out of it. Roger listened without comment.
When Loring had finished, Shinny told him about the ship and its
condition. When Shinny finished, Loring turned to Roger.
"Well, Manning," he asked, "how do you like the setup?"
"How much do I get out of it?" asked Roger.
"One twentieth of the take," said Loring.
"There are four of us. One full quarter-share, nothing less," drawled
Roger.
"One-fourth to Shinny and one-fourth to him," whined Mason. "That only
leaves us a fourth apiece!"
"That's more than you've got now," snapped Loring. "All right, Manning,
you're in!"
Roger smiled for the first time. "When do we blast off?"
"As soon as we get that space wagon in shape we hit the deep!" said
Loring.
"I think I need a drink on that," said Shinny. He yelled for the
bartender, who brought rocket juice and Martian fizz.
Roger picked up the glass of the sweet water and glanced around the
table.
"What's the name of that space wagon you've got buried in the jungles,
Mr. Shinny?"
"Ain't got no name," said Shinny.
Roger paused, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Then
I propose we name her after the hearts of each of us here at the table."
"What's that?" asked Loring.
"_Space Devil_," said Roger.
Shinny grinned, his frail body trembling slightly from his silent
laughter. He held up the glass of rocket juice.
"I propose a toast to the _Space Devil_!"
"To the _Space Devil_," said the others together.
"And whatever trouble she brings," added Roger softly.
[Illustration]