It was one thing to heave an unwanted girl
out into the great black grave of space. But
tough old pirate Captain Brace balked at
making his own soul walk the plank with her!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Winter 1949.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
They stood, silently, side by side, in the crude shelter that passed
for a bar on Titan. Its corroded metal walls rang hollowly to the
boisterous, animal humor which flowed as freely as drink. Lewd sketches
adorned the walls, staring down at the two men, the lewdity of five
races to please the lechers of five planets. But all of this was lost
on Brace. He was begotten in sin and knew no other life.
The thin-faced man beside him shifted uneasily. "Buy you a drink,
Brace?"
"CAPTAIN Brace!" the ape snapped. It was too true to be funny. He
looked like an ape. His face was ugly and concave, the nose flattened.
His back and shoulders sloped and his arms hung slightly before his
body.
"Captain Brace," the other said quickly.
Brace laid one of his paws on the bar, hairy, grotesque. He sniffed
loudly and grunted, "Borl!"
The complacent bartender poured three fingers into a glass and Brace's
lips quivered slightly over his protruding teeth in humorous pride. No
man he knew could drink the stuff straight, this caustic liquor often
used to add a poisonous garnish to the drinks of the frail men on earth.
The thin-faced man murmured, "Whiskey," and the bartender poured this
with equal nonchalance.
Brace stared at the glass in his hand, prolonging the moment, for he
knew many curious eyes watched him. Blood brother to sulphuric acid,
someone had called it; Borl, distilled from the roots of a poisonous
tree, the touch of whose leaves burned flesh through to the bone.
It was a show worth seeing--and Brace knew it. He knew it hurt, seared
his throat, and made his chest ache, that once he had crushed a glass
in his hand in pain afterward. It had hoarsened his voice and burned
his lips and tongue so they were like the palm of a workman's hand. But
no other man could do it.
He raised the glass to his lips and poured the contents down. The men
who were watching drew in their breath but not all of the spectators
were men. Some were aliens who expressed surprise or tension in other
ways. Venusians' long-unused gill slits rustled. The armadillo-like
Saturnians made crackling sounds by shifting their bodies in a slight
circular motion. The Martians, almost man-like, made nasal squeaks with
the second set of vocal cords behind their palates. The downy-skinned
Ionians, pale white in the gloom, made little clicking sounds with
their fingers like miniature castanets. Then Brace laid the empty glass
on the bar and life resumed in this sump where collected the residue of
five races.
The thin-faced man tossed off his whiskey in one gulp, then coughed.
Brace threw back his head and roared with laughter, long and loud. The
room joined him, but the thin-faced man didn't mind. He laughed too. It
was safer.
* * * * *
A pair of stained curtains suddenly separated on a little raised
platform and all eyes turned toward it, including Brace's bloodshot
ones, still jumping from the effect of the drugging Borl. A girl came
out, scantily clad, and a spotlight from somewhere centered on her. Two
Ionians played rhythmic melodies on a heavy stringed instrument and the
girl began to dance.
Men yelled the age-old cry, "Take it off!" And she, twirling, smiled,
but her face turned pink under the cries and jests.
Followed by the thin-faced man, Brace waddled forward until he stood
at the edge of the platform. There was something different here which
he sensed rather than saw through the caustic fumes of the Borl. She
was young, not a burned out, haggard wreck, heavily daubed, such as he
always saw in places such as this. Her limbs were lithe, straight, her
face was not pretty, but it was youthful and not a debauched, revolting
mask.
As Brace was taking all this in, another man staggered slightly and
jabbed him with an elbow. Without hesitation, Brace's hand caught him
on the face, the chopping edge of his ape-hand landing with the crack
of a hammer. There was no resentment. The man staggered back, his
oft-broken face bleeding from the abrasion on his cheekbone, and Brace
kept on watching the girl.
She was slim, almost skinny, which accentuated her pointed, elfin face
and high cheekbones. The blue draperies whirled in her wake, as did her
shining, black hair. Her brown eyes seemed to be expressionless holes
and her full red lips remained fixed, pinned in a professional smile.
Brace's hands now rested on the platform, almost chest high, and sweat
trickled down his concave mask unnoticed, his eyes darting after the
girl, relentlessly.
* * * * *
Then, as suddenly as they had opened, the curtains swung closed and the
spotlight died. Immediately, Brace vaulted to the platform and ducked
through the slit in the curtain. He heard no voices cheering him on and
he wondered if in the sudden gloom he had been unseen.
Unhesitatingly, he rolled ahead across the now darkened platform and
around the askew backdrop and almost ran into the girl. She gasped
and shrank back as Brace reached for her. A door opened and a young
man came out, a blond, earth man. Brace looked at him, no more, just
looked, and then the young man lunged at him. He didn't throw himself
like an animal, he raced in like a panther, his young, small fists
cocked professionally.
It was all a blur to Brace, the flying fists, the thudding blows, as
he waved his long arms. He stumbled into the backdrop but its cloth
surface muffled any sound. Half blind, he clutched the fabric with one
hand, then reached with the other and dragged the young man to him.
Brace hadn't meant to hurt him. He had only wanted to drive him away.
But he stood there, rubbing his aching knuckles, staring down at the
crumpled figure on the floor. There was a big dent in the young man's
skull where his head had struck a pipe. Brace was shocked. He hadn't
meant to kill him. But he knew he was dead.
The girl knelt quickly beside the young man, her small, trembling
hands touching his white face. Brace knew she was going to scream and
immediately, his hand closed over her mouth. She struggled but he
hardly noticed it. This was bad, very bad, especially here on Titan.
The S.P. would like something better than just suspicions in his
direction. Sure, the kid had asked for it, but how would it look? He
hadn't meant to kill him, but--
His barrel chest heaved while he held the struggling girl and tried to
think. He had killed other men. It wasn't remorse. It was perhaps only
a vague instinct which forbade him to kill the young or the weak. He
had to get back to the ship. That was it! Once in space, they'd never
know. But the girl--the girl--He could kill her too but--
With a grunt, he heaved her figure over his shoulder and moved down the
gloomy hallway to a metal door. With the toe of his shoe, he opened it,
glanced outside into the darkness, then heaved himself and his burden
through the opening, pulling the door shut with his foot.
They were on the edge of the settlement. That was a break. He carefully
skirted lighted buildings. The air, thin and cold, barely rustled his
garments as he ran steadily on.
There was just one more place to pass, another bar. Brace hesitated
in the gloom, holding his burden tightly. A man emerged from the bar,
paused, then began walking toward them. Brace shrank back into the
shadows. The man's footsteps drew closer. Brace tried to withdraw
himself further but the girl began to struggle. The footsteps stopped,
Brace heard a shuffling sound, then the footsteps receded. Brace peered
around the corner just in time to see the man re-enter the bar.
Tensely, Brace walked toward the lighted area. If someone should
come out--He came abreast of the bar and through the grimy, plastic
portholes, he saw the faces of men, brief, fleeting images. Then he was
past, running, and the darkness closed about them again. He ran until
he was out in the sandy wastes, beyond the settlement. Then he stopped.
"If you scream, I'll kill you," he grunted into the girl's ear. He
dropped his hand from her mouth, set her on her feet, but kept a firm
hold on her wrist. He couldn't make out her features in the gloom but
he could hear her panting.
"Let me go!" she gasped.
"Shut up!" The snarl was deadly, vicious, and it choked off the words
that were bubbling up in her throat. "Now listen, you! I killed him and
that's that. I didn't mean to but that doesn't make him any less dead.
The S.P. doesn't like me and I think they might like to line me up in
front of a jet."
* * * * *
Abruptly, the girl began to cry and sank down onto the sand. Brace was
annoyed and didn't know what to do. If he'd had any sense, he would
have killed her back there. Then he could have come back in the front
way and had another drink. The boys on the ship would swear they had
met him outside, gone with him to the ship, then walked back with him.
Sure, there would be two bodies, but he would have been in the clear.
He couldn't turn her loose now. He couldn't kill her either.
Resignedly, he realized he had to take her with him. "Come on!" he
grunted, pulling her erect.
Her sobbing died away to a muffled sniffling as he pulled her along
relentlessly after him. They were far enough from the settlement so
her scream wouldn't carry. Their feet crunched on the sand, though the
sound was thin and wispy, the ghost of the sound of earth feet trodding
earth sand. Brace noted a vague yellowness before him in the sky. It
would be getting light soon. He had to get to his ship. The S.P. might
already be nosing around.
The lightness was more distinct when they reached the place where the
ghostly hulks of space craft lay like sleeping whales, inert leviathans
that could in an instant become flaming dragons, leaping and screaming
into the darkness. Brace threaded his way through them until he caught
a glimpse of his own scarred ship, neither larger nor smaller than the
average, its blunt nose pointing slightly away to his left. He stopped
suddenly when he saw a shadowy figure standing near it.
"If you scream now--" Abruptly, he made a short, chopping motion with
his fist and the girl slumped unconscious. He shouldered her and began
a careful approach. There was still a hundred feet to cover, the sky
was growing lighter every minute, but the shadowy figure by his ship
remained motionless.
Brace stood in the shadow of the fin of a neighboring ship and turned
plans over in his mind. It was no use. During that whole hundred feet
he would be outlined against the sky. Then a sound tensed him, the
whine of a sand car behind him. He crouched low, prepared to duck.
This was it. Nobody on Titan had sand cars but the S.P. The miners
used big ato-tractors.
* * * * *
Brace lunged around the edge of the fin to shield himself from the
oncoming lights. The sand car whizzed past him and hissed to a smooth
stop.
They had seen him. Brace spun and ran, sand spurting behind him. He
skidded under the huge belly of one ship, scrambled across to another--
Something crackled in the air--dust motes or insects caught in the S.P.
ray--and suddenly-molten sand bubbled and spat behind him.
[Illustration: _The sand suddenly bubbled and spat behind him._]
But the blast was not followed by a closer one and Brace realized they
were only shooting at random; he heard the ray hissing in another
direction. He hurtled down the next alley and then forced himself to
slow down to a shuffling run as he neared his own ship. His sprinting
feet would leave too obvious tracks.
Near the stern of his ship he stopped, his fingers fumbling over the
smooth side, at last finding the knob. He shoved it inward. If the port
squeaked--if one of the S.P. men came around the side of the ship--But
the port didn't squeak. It opened silently. And Brace stepped in. He
pressed another button, and the port closed. He was in.
Brace walked swiftly to his cabin, opened the door and dropped the
unconscious girl on his bunk. Quickly, he stripped off his coat and
shirt and mussed his hair. The catch on one of his shoes stuck and
he cursed as he ripped it off. Breathing rapidly, he waited for the
sound of the buzzer, and when it came, he snatched up his heavy coat
and threw it over his shoulders. As he stepped into the companionway,
another cabin door opened and another figure, hastily coated stepped
out.
"I'll get it!" Brace growled.