The Alien Dies At Dawn
By Alexander Blade
Kendall Stone had twelve hours to save a
thousand lives. It wasn't much time, especially
since someone was making sure he didn't use it!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
December 1956
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
There was a scream of tortured air over the Mojave Spaceport as atwo-man starship dropped on its hot jets toward the wide cementalloylanding field. It slowed and settled gently to the ground. Before thefaint wisps of smoke had time to dissipate, the airlock door opened,and a big, broad-shouldered man got out. He dropped lithely to theground and started off across the field at a quick trot.
He nearly bowled over a field attendant who had been coming toward him."Hey!" the surprised attendant said. "Don't you want your ship checked?"
"Don't have time," Kendall Stone called back, as he continued runningtoward the Customs Office. He glanced at his watch. 1800. Twelve hourstill dawn. Twelve hours!
Kendall Stone gritted his teeth and doubled his pace. He was in asuper-plus top-level hurry. He'd practically burned a hole in thevacuum between Earth and Mars trying to get to Mojave on time. Twelvehours! At dawn, Galth of Rastol would die in the execution chamber forthe crime of murder. And it was up to Kendall Stone to stop it.
He opened the door to the Main Lounge of the spaceport building andpushed his way through the thick, jostling crowd, moving slowly towardthe Customs Office. He hardly noticed the people he shoved aside. Therewas only one thought in his mind: I've only got twelve hours.
Personally, Stone didn't give an octangle damn about Galth; he didn'teven know the Rastolian personally—had never heard of him untila short time ago. But if Galth of Rastol died, so would a thousandothers. The human colony on Rastol III would be wiped out in reprisal.
Including, Stone thought bitterly, the wife and two sons he had leftbehind to go on this purchasing trip.
The Customs Office was in sight now. He threaded his way through themob. Just before he reached the door, he was almost pushed off balanceby a squat, chubby little man who steadied him, apologized profusely,and went on his way.
Scowling angrily, Stone stepped inside the Customs Office. A hard-facedman in uniform sat behind the broad desk, looking up at him boredly.
"Yes?"
"I have a cargo of Martian valdone aboard my ship, and I want toreport it," Stone said.
The official nodded. "Do you have the import permission papers?"
Kendall shook his head. "I don't intend to import the stuff to Earth;I'm just stopping over here until I can get some very importantbusiness cleared up. But valdone is a dangerous drug, and I simplywanted to report the fact that I have a hundred kilograms of it aboardmy ship."
"I see," said the official, making a note on a minipad. "We'll have toput a seal on the ship until you are ready to take off again."
"That's perfectly all right," Kendall agreed. Anything would havebeen all right, as long as it didn't take much of the precious timeremaining before dawn.
The official extended his hand. "Your papers, please."
Kendall reached inside his jacket pocket for the small booklet ofidentification papers. An icy shiver ran down his back.
The booklet was gone.
"What's the matter?" the official asked.
"My ID booklet is gone! I put it in my jacket just before I left theship; I must have lost it on my way over here."
"If that's the case, someone will return it," the