"Bareen," Jansen said.
"Come and gone, with Miss Hilliard."
"But his buggy--"
"Who're you?"
"Bodyguard," Jansen said promptly. It had worked once.
"Hell, then you ought to know. Why ask me?"
"You know Mr. Bareen," Jansen said, smiling. "Impulsive."
"Is he? I guess I wouldn't know."
"Look. Ordinarily I wouldn't mind passing the time of day with you,
but I'm not supposed to let Bareen out of my sight. So if you'll just
tell me where he is...."
"Show me."
"What did you say?" Jansen asked with a sickening realization of what
the guard wanted.
"You say you're his bodyguard. Show me."
Jansen swung his fist in a quick, blurring arc and hit the man. He felt
the pain of good contact and the man went over on his back, striking
the ground hard. Jansen knelt quickly by his side: he was breathing
normally. Quickly Jansen searched him and found a small hand-blaster.
He pocketed it and got up, dragging the unconscious man into an alcove
which housed an inter-office communications system. On impulse, Jansen
picked up the microphone and said:
"Mr. Bareen, please. This is important."
"I'm sorry, sir. Mr. Bareen has taken the sub-spacer back to the
interplanetary sub-space tunnel."
"Thank you," Jansen said automatically. There was a small sub-space
tunnel connecting the irrigation station with the big interplanetary
space-warp, Jansen knew. Even now Bareen and Wendy Hilliard, having
inspected the plant, were a hundred thousand miles away, in deep space,
at the tunnel station.
While Jansen was thinking, the communications system board flashed and
a voice said:
"Emergency! Emergency! Someone has stolen a buggy and is believed
heading for the irrigation station. He may be armed and is probably
dangerous."
Jansen acknowledged the information, then said: "The buggy just passed
this way, but it kept going."
"You're sure?"
"Positive."
"Thanks. We'll relay the information."
That ruse would give him a few minutes, Jansen knew. But for what
purpose?
Bareen and Wendy Hilliard! If they used the sub-space tunnel, why
couldn't he?
He left the alcove and charged down a brightly-lit hallway, passing a
cavern-sized room a-throb with banks of machinery. A technician looked
up at him and Jansen said:
"The sub-spacer. Hurry, man. This is urgent."
The technician pointed, spoke. Jansen followed his directions on the
dead run.
* * * * *
When he reached it, he saw what looked like a vidiphone booth in a
large, otherwise empty room. But vidiphone booths don't usually have
armed guards....
"This is for Mr. Bareen's private use," the guard said, brandishing a
blasting rifle. "Better beat it."
No ruses here. This guard would know. This was one of Bareen's private
thugs, probably. Jansen took a breath and dove at him.
The blaster roared, searing air over Jansen's head. He hit the guard's
middle and they went down together, the rifle falling from the guard's
grasp. They rolled over and over, then the guard got to his knees and
clubbed an elbow at Jansen's jaw. Jansen rolled on his back, his face
suddenly numb. The guard dove for him, pinned him and called for help.
Jansen struggled frantically. He heard footsteps pounding toward them,
then brought his legs up and scissored the guard's throat, pulling him
down and away. Jansen released the scissors abruptly and scrambled to
his feet. He made it to the sub-space booth and pulled the door open.
There was a single lever inside and he yanked at it as he slammed the
transparent door. He felt nothing at first. He saw the guard retrieve
his rifle, pointing it at the booth and firing.
But the blast of raw energy never reached Jansen. For he was already
being transported through sub-space....
He had no time to marshall his thoughts. The first thing he saw through
the transparent door of the twin booth a hundred thousand miles away on
the sub-space station, was Bareen. Bareen was standing just outside the
booth, holding a blaster.
He was pointing the blaster at Wendy Hilliard, whose face was white.
Jansen opened the door and Bareen's deep voice ended with: "... to kill
you now."
Jansen turned quickly and fired his blaster not at Bareen but at the
controls of the sub-space booth. This way, he hoped, they wouldn't be
interrupted. This way--
"Jansen!" Wendy screamed.
Bareen whirled, facing Jansen. His eyes widened and as he fired the
blaster Jansen felt a numbing pain in his right leg. The blaster had
merely seared him, he knew. But if Bareen had time for another try....
Jansen leaped at him and they went crashing across the room toward
another, and larger, sub-space booth. Jansen was exhausted. The quick
pursuit, the fight at the irrigation center, the unfamiliar activity at
the chlorella bogs, had drained most of the energy from his body. And
Bareen was strong.
He slowly forced Jansen back, choking him. Jansen's hands waved weakly
in front of his face, fluttering uselessly. Bareen was going to kill
him, as he had killed his brother....
Jansen's vision swam. Balls of flame seared before his eyes. He was
dimly aware of Wendy clawing at Bareen's back, but the big man pushed
her away, then hurled her across the room with one out-flung arm.
Jansen butted with his head. He brought his knee up. He swung his fists
and felt contact with Bareen's face. But Bareen held onto his throat
with one large hand, getting the other one free to use the blaster.
He brought it up slowly, and Jansen forgot about the hand about his
throat. He reached for the blaster, struggling for possession of it
with Bareen. He butted again and saw a bloody smear where Bareen's
mouth had been. The blaster was between them....
And roared....
Bareen slumped against him and the pressure was suddenly gone from his
throat. When he looked down at Bareen he saw that the man's entire face
had been shot away--
"I was working for your brother," Wendy sobbed. "I never gave up. I
was gathering evidence about what Bareen planned. You--you came just
in time. He was going to give his ultimatum to Earth today. Triple the
price, or no chlorella. They'd have had to say yes."
Feet pounded in a corridor, came closer.
"We won," Jansen said. "But now--we're finished."
"Quick!" Wendy cried, pulling him toward the larger sub-space booth.
"It connects with Earth."
"I can't return to Earth. I've just killed a man. I--"
"Self-defense. I saw you. Besides, we have the proof that Bareen was
going to bleed Earth dry for chlorella."
"... the outworlds...." he said.
"You don't have to hide on the outworlds now."
"Hide, nothing," Jansen said, smiling weakly but happily the
split-second before they were whisked seventy million miles through
sub-space. "If you're not a fugitive, the outworlds are wonderful.
Maybe you'd like...."
He was going to say, _like to join me_. It was an impulse he couldn't
explain, as if the depths of sub-space drew a man's secret desires from
his unconscious mind.
And as they began to materialize on Earth he heard Wendy's voice, as if
from far away:
"Maybe I'd like to try that."