[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
October 1958
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Two or three things worried me on my trip back to the hideout. So my
astrogation was sloppy and I kept losing Jupiter's shadow.
First, there was the showdown with Naomi over who would lead the
Callisto gang. This meant another degravity fight with python whips
and steel claws. Having just gotten rid of the old battle scars on my
cheek, shoulder and breast, I wasn't so eager to have my title back on
the same disfiguring terms.
On the other hand, wouldn't the girls take it as a sign of cowardice if
I tried to settle peaceably for second in command?
Next, I kept thinking about the money I'd taken from my parents the day
before. What amazed me was how they could be so stupid as to believe
I would go to Mars and enroll in that technical school. Two thousand
solars was just enough to buy this sweet secondhand 2064 model Spacer
coupe. The gals in our ordnance crew would rig it up with missile
launchers, turn it into a killer, flagship of our fleet.
But just now my ship was unarmed, defenseless. And as I approached our
base on airless, rocky Callisto I again had the feeling I was being
followed, trailed in space.
Not by any of the Io boys; I was pretty sure of that. Because that
brave gang will always attack when the odds are five to one in their
favor. And not by the police either: They've always left us alone.
Someone else.
I circled Jupiter's fifth moon warily, searching a half million square
miles of space for the suspected other rocket, but my instruments
detected nothing man-made. So I radioed the password and hastily set
down in the mouth of a giant natural cave entrance--the airlock of our
underground hideout.
While air hissed into the chamber I strapped on my weapons belt and
glanced in the doorway mirror. Not--mind you--because there's anything
particularly feminine about me, but it's still such a surprise not to
find a face full of claw marks that I studied my appearance with a kind
of stranger's curiosity. Even without scars, I would hardly call myself
an attractive girl.
My black dyed hair had reverted to its original blond shade, and the
same shoulder length it had had two years ago when I was matrixed. I
had a fifteen-year-old's applecheeked complexion, and thick eyebrows
that met above the bridge of my long thin nose and cried out for
plucking. My ears were too large and my jaw rather sharply angular.
Only my neck seemed gracefully proportioned--long, finely sculptured.
At the rest, sheathed in a black metallic leotard, I could only shrug.
The airlock opened. Chin uplifted, I strode from my ship with python
whip coiled in my hand, steel claws jingling at my waist. My name, in
case you're interested, is Vera.
* * * * *
At the heavily guarded first corridor I was met by Ginger, a fat
fog-throated valkyrie who serves as our security officer.
"We were almost ready to blast you, my dear. Good thing you signalled
when you did."
We rapped the knuckles of our clenched fists in greeting.
"What's happened in the past week?" I asked. "Kill any more Ios?"
Ginger grimaced. "Naw. I shot the arm off one but I don't think he
died. Ran into him in an alley in Ganymede City. Imagine that guy! He
was trying to steal an air synthesizer I myself had just stolen."
The corridor led to the First Hall, a large vestibule bright with
luminescent wall paint where eight tunnels branched off into separately
hollowed-out caverns in the rocky guts of Callisto.
"I'm itching to get back into combat," I said. "What do you say we make
a raid on the Io boys tomorrow?"
Ginger realized I was testing her loyalty. "I'd like nothing better,"
she responded heartily. "But of course we'll have to clear it with
Naomi first."