The soft silvery radiance which this planet seemed to feature, bathed
the metal hallway as Kirk marched stolidly toward the slim arcing
stairway that led toward Naia's floor. This was certainly a strange
building, he thought. The architects of Mythox knew how to use curves.
They utilized them for utility and beauty to a point where a straight
line was something to be surprised at. Pretty smart people, the
Mythoxians--in more ways than one.
And Kirk, for no apparent reason, thought of a phrase common among
children during his own childhood, "Who died and left you boss?"
He counted the markings over one door. He had seen those markings
before. Naia North lived here.
And Naia North was in. Kirk walked softly across the large foyer room
and quietly pushed open a door to the left. Naia, clad as always, in
beauty, lay sleeping on a bed that stood out from the wall on two narrow
rods of metal and needed no other support.
As Kirk opened his mouth, Naia awakened, so she was looking calmly at
him as he spoke. "Up, baby. You've got a date with a hot electrode a lot
of light years from here. It's a hike, so rise and shine."
Naia sat up very slowly, very gracefully. She was what men dream of
finding in bed beside them. What they marry to keep in bed beside them.
"You must be mad."
"As a hatter, baby. Into your duds." He saw her glance at the door jamb
of the bedroom entrance, saw the shadow of disappointment in her lovely
eyes. "You didn't put those Joe Louis light rays in your bedroom, did
you?"
Naia set her feet on the floor and drew herself to her full height. She
wore light blue, a gown that hung as had that of Guinevere, as that of
the Maid of Shalot.
But Naia was contempt. She was contempt clothed in cold blue, then
contempt naked as she allowed the gown to fall to the floor. A few
minutes later, she was contempt clothed for the street in tight britches
and a loose blouse.
"You go first," Kirk said. "And do as you're told. You may be a
Mythoxian, but this .45 doesn't know that. It puts big holes in
anybody."
As Mala walked serenely toward the hall door, there was only a touch of
sullenness at the corners of her mouth. She turned her head to speak
over her shoulder. "Hiding behind a woman, brave Earthman?"
"Yes and no. I'm hiding behind a woman from those damn straight-left
rays; and I'm not a brave Earthman. I spend most of my time scared to
death. That's why all of us are getting back to Earth quick, so I can
draw an easy breath."
"All of us?"
"Oh yes. Didn't I tell you? You're taking me to the places I can find
Alma Dakin and Orin. We're going to have witnesses and testimony. And
the party who gets burned isn't going to be Paul Cordell."
"I won't--"
"Hold it, honey."
Kirk had picked up two items upon leaving Naia's apartment. A pair of
filmy silk stockings and a white scarf. He jerked Naia's hands behind
her back in somewhat of a surprise move. Before she recovered, her
wrists were tightly bound. She gasped, "You--madman," just before he
deftly pulled the scarf across her mouth and twisted it into an
effective gag. He stepped back to admire his handywork.
"Now we're all ready. Orin and Alma."
Naia shook her head in a slow negative, Kirk pushed her gently into the
hall and rounded to face her. "Yes, baby," he said. "You ought to know
now I won't be stopped. I need Orin to fly that space buggy. If I don't
get him we can't go. Then there'd be nothing left for me to do but even
the score for Paul Cordell. He'll have to go but you'll keep him
company."
Naia stood like a statue, apparently considering. Then she moved slowly
down the corridor in the opposite direction from which Kirk had come.
Down three curving flights and stopping finally in front of a door
identical to her own. Kirk stepped forward and leaned firmly on the
knob. The door opened. He knew where the bedroom was in these apartments
now. He pushed Naia ahead of him, into the bedroom and saw Alma lying
with her eyes closed.
Kirk whirled, just in time to level his gun and bring Orin to a dead
stop. "Over by the bed, high-born." As Orin complied, Kirk leered at
Naia. "That was clever, but I had it doped. I spotted them for husband
and wife or the Mythox equivalent quite some time back. A good chance
shot to hell."
"What do you want here?" Orin demanded.
"A chauffeur. We're heading Earthward on the first ship. That's the one
out in the jungle."
"But you talked to Tamu. I thought--"
"I'd been suckered? No, no my friend! On the force they called me the boy
with the one-track mind."
"I can see what they meant," Orin sighed.
"I thought you would. Tell your wife to get dressed. We're getting an
air-sled."
"You might have the decency to--"
"I won't turn my back. You can stand between us. That's the best I can
do."
* * * * *
Alma dressed swiftly in a costume similar to Naia's. When they were
ready to leave, Kirk said, "Now let's get it straight once and for all.
I'll stand for no fast moves. It's Earth, or some quick slugs. Do you
follow me?"
They did not speak but they evidently believed Kirk because, fifteen
minutes later, the party of four stood beside the ugly ship while thick
trees and grasses whispered around them.
"Inside."
In the corridor, Orin stopped and turned as though having thought of a
convincing argument he was bent upon trying. Kirk poked him sharply in
the ribs with the barrel of the .45 and he moved on after the women
toward the ladder and thence to the motor room.
Once inside, Orin turned and spoke sharply. "Won't you reconsider?"
"Push the levers, Jack. The right ones."
"Tamu is a reasonable man. We could talk to him again. He would make
even a more generous offer."
"I'm waiting."
"Certainly you did not refute the logic of his argument? We are in the
right. Our case is just. The galaxies must be protected from--"
"The right levers, Jack."
"--from those who through ignorance, stupidity, or ferocity would
destroy it."
"One more minute of this and there'll be dead people aboard this ship."
"You're helpless, really. You can't fly this ship without me. Therefore
my life is safe. I merely refuse to launch it."
"Would you like a dead wife?"
Orin whitened perceptibly.
"She may be a wife to you, but to me she's just a doll who helped lie a
man into the chair."
"You wouldn't do it! You haven't got the nerve to shoot down a man or a
woman in cold blood."
Kirk looked steadily into Orin's eyes. "You don't believe that do you,
bud?"
Orin held the gaze for a long time. Then he dropped his eyes. "No. I
don't believe it."
"Then get to work."
"One last offer. Won't you reconsider. Join us?"
"No!"
"Very well."
And Orin, a fixed, taut look on his face, reached forth his hand and
touched a button on the panel board. It was a very special button.
A button for use only when all hope was gone.
The exploding space-time ship lighted the countryside to blinding
brilliance.
* * * * *
A.P. Jan 21st--Shortly after midnight today, Paul Cordell,
convicted killer in the famous "woman from Mars" case, was put to
death in the electric chair at the state penitentiary.
End of Project Gutenberg's Twelve Times Zero, by Howard Carleton Browne