THE KING OF THE CITY
By KEITH LAUMER
Illustrated by FINLAY
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Magazine August 1961.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
He was a sort of taxi-driver, delivering
a commuter to the city. The tank traps and
armored cars were the hazards of the trade!
I stood in the shadows and looked across at the rundown lot withthe windblown trash packed against the wire mesh barrier fence andthe yellow glare panel that said HAUG ESCORT. There was a row ofcity-scarred hacks parked on the cracked ramp. They hadn't sufferedthe indignity of a wash-job for a long time. And the two-story framebuilding behind them—that had once been somebody's country house—nowshowed no paint except the foot-high yellow letters over the officedoor.
Inside the office a short broad man with small eyes and yesterday'sbeard gnawed a cigar and looked at me.
"Portal-to-portal escort cost you two thousand C's," he said."Guaranteed."
"Guaranteed how?" I asked.
He waved the cigar. "Guaranteed you get into the city and back outagain in one piece." He studied his cigar. "If somebody don't plug youfirst," he added.
"How about a one-way trip?"
"My boy got to come back out, ain't he?"
I had spent my last brass ten-dollar piece on a cup of coffee eighthours before, but I had to get into the city. This was the only idea Ihad left.
"You've got me wrong," I said. "I'm not a customer. I want a job."
"Yeah?" He looked at me again, with a different expression, like a guywhose new-found girl friend has just mentioned a price.
"You know Gra'nyauk?"
"Sure," I said. "I grew up here."
He asked me a few more questions, then thumbed a button centered in aring of grime on the wall behind him. A chair scraped beyond the door;it opened and a tall bony fellow with thick wrists and an adams appleset among heavy neck tendons came in.
The man behind the desk pointed at me with his chin.
"Throw him out, Lefty."
Lefty gave me a resentful look, came around the desk and reached for mycollar. I leaned to the right and threw a hard left jab to the chin. Herocked back and sat down.
"I get the idea," I said. "I can make it out under my own power." Iturned to the door.
"Stick around, mister. Lefty's just kind of a like a test forseparating the men from the boys."
"You mean I'm hired?"
He sighed. "You come at a good time. I'm short of good boys."
I helped Lefty up, then dusted off a chair and listened to a half-hourbriefing on conditions in the city. They weren't good. Then I wentupstairs to the chart room to wait for a call.
It was almost ten o'clock when Lefty came into the room where I waslooking over the maps of the city. He jerked his head.
"Hey, you."
A weasel-faced man who had been blowing smoke in my face slid off hisstool, dropped his cigarette and smeared it under his shoe.
"You," Lefty said. "The new guy."
I belted my coat and followed him down the dark stairway, and outacross the littered tarmac, glistening wet under the polyarcs, to whereHaug stood talking to another man I hadn't seen before.
Haug flicked a beady glance my way, then turned to the stranger. Hewas a short man of about fifty with a mild expressionless face andexpensive clothes.
"Mr. Stenn, this is Smith. He's your escort. You do like he tells youand he'll g