Jansen came to Mercury to find one man,
and that seemed an easy enough task; the hitch
was that as a hunter he was also being hunted!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
October 1956
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Jansen began to sweat as soon as he left the spaceship. The bloated,
swollen sun hovering near the horizon here in twilight zone was
dazzling even through his protective goggles. Jansen knew he would have
to get used to it: Mercury's twilight zone, like it or not, would be
his home for the indefinite future.
Stowing his gear in the barracks while sweat streamed from his body,
Jansen realized for the first time that his luggage had been examined
aboard the spaceship. That was bad; it could mean anything; it
certainly meant trouble.
_I have to hurry_, Jansen thought. _In a day or so, they're liable to
haul me in for questioning._
"Still time for me to go out and join the work force?" Jansen asked the
barracks orderly as the old man came shuffling by.
"Eager, ain't you, mister. They'll get along without you till
tomorrow, you can bet."
"Well, can I go take a look, then?"
The old man studied him with surprise. Apparently gold-bricking and not
eager-beavering was the order of the day here. "What's your rating?"
the orderly asked.
"Twelve."
"Well, nobody would push you around, I guess," admitted the barracks
orderly with grudging respect. "Why don't you see the town, though?
Town's all right. Don't go out to the bogs unless you have to."
_Bogs_, thought Jansen. _Bogs on Mercury's sun-side._ He still couldn't
get over it.
Jansen changed into a skin-tight white insulsuit and went outside. The
insulsuit covered him almost like an additional layer of skin: he wore
trousers and a shirt over it. Without the insulsuit, exposure this
close to Mercury's sun-side would be impossible for more than a few
moments.
It took Jansen twenty minutes to realize he was being followed. His
tail wore an insulsuit and a pair of colorful shorts. This seemed to be
the universal garb in Sun-side City, so that the hundreds of loungers
and shoppers all looked alike, with the skull-cap cowls of their
insulsuits even hiding the distinctiveness of their hair. Jansen's tail
was a man bigger than most, though, and it was only because he was
wandering aimlessly in the sun-dazzled streets that Jansen became aware
of pursuit at all.
He ducked into an alley between two cafes. Two women in skin-tight
insulsuits came by, then a man and a boy, then the big man who had been
following Jansen. Abruptly Jansen stepped from the alley.
"Just a minute," he said.
The man whirled, a blank expression on his face.
"What do you want?" Jansen asked.
"I don't get you, mister. You stopped me, I didn't stop you. What do
_you_ want?"
"You were following me," Jansen said.
"I never saw you before in my life."
Before Jansen could answer, the sun went down. It did not set, as the
sun sets on Earth. It disappeared, due to the sudden unpredictable
wobbles of Mercury's twilight zone. It was an astronomical phenomena.
And, despite the sun's great apparent size, Jansen suddenly found
himself in pitch darkness. It alarmed him at first, until he realized
that Mercury had no atmosphere, except for the artificial pockets under
the man-made domes. There was no layer of air to retain the sun's glow.
One moment, dazzling light; the next, almost total darkness.
"Where are you?" Jansen called. He groped his way toward where the man
had been standing. He heard a girl's laughter on the street nearby,
heard an old woman's shout.
Something struck the side of his head, summoning blinding pain. Jansen
staggered and fell to the sidewalk on hands and knees. He felt himself
being frisked expertly in his half-conscious state. Something was
removed from his trouser-pocket: his wallet probably. He tried to get
up but fell forward, scraping his jaw. He heard retreating footsteps.
_Number one botch-job_, he thought, and lost consciousness.
* * * * *
When he came to, he was not alone. He was no longer on the sidewalk,
either. He had been taken into a house.
He found himself looking at a girl in insulsuit and shorts. The
forehead-piece of the girl's skin-tight cowl came down in a sharp
widow's peak, in the current feminine fashion. It made her entire face,
with its high cheek bones and long narrow eyes and small, stubborn,
pointed chin, look somewhat aquatic. She was a very pretty girl and her
figure under the revealing insulsuit was breath-taking.
"You're all right, Mr. Jansen?" she asked.
Jansen. She'd called him by his name. He was on his guard at once. He'd
gotten work at the Sun-station employment office on Earth as Wilson.
His name was unknown here on Mercury--except to the person who'd gone
through his bags aboard ship and the big man who'd taken his wallet on
the street.
He nodded his head slowly. His head ached and he felt weak and washed
out, but he could feel the strength flowing back into him.
The woman smiled. Then the smile left her face so quickly, it startled
Jansen. "We don't want you here," she said. "We don't want you on
Mercury, Jansen."
He stood up. "Thanks for dragging me in off the street. I'll get out of
here now."
"Leave Mercury, Mr. Jansen. While you still can."
He headed for the door, his temple throbbing with pain. She helped him
across the room coolly, efficiently, supporting his shoulder but barely
seeming to touch him. He wished his head was clearer. He wanted to
question this girl. She knew him; she'd had him tailed.
"Get out while you can," she was saying. "Remember what happened to
your brother."
He whirled on the threshold and pushed her back into the room ahead of
him. "Go ahead," he said coldly. "Tell me about my brother."
Her face told him she knew she'd blundered. "Just get out of here, you
fool!" she cried.
"Tell me about my brother."
"He's dead. What does it matter except he's dead?"
"How did he die, Miss Hilliard?"