Erupting from hyper-space in the teeth
of startled DIC patrols and readying all
hands for a crash-landing, adventurer
Fletcher Pell could still wonder which he
dreaded more—the U-235 in the hold ...
or the strange girl by his side.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Summer 1948.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Pell twisted into the black maw of the alley and ran silently andswiftly into its depths. His breath came in whistling agonized gasps.Faintly he heard the footsteps of his assailant—now more clearly asthe latter turned into the alley after him. Vaguely Pell could make outhis silhouette outlined by the dim light that filtered in from thestreet.
"Ugh!" Pell struck a hard surface at the end of the alley with a gruntthat he could not stifle.
Trapped! Frantically he felt about to find an opening. Softly andsteadily he cursed himself, trying to keep black despair at bay. Maybeif he ... but the idea died in birth.
"Chuu!"
A blue lancet of flame arced over Pell's shoulder and struck the wall,turning a small area into running slag. The heat and prickling of theradiation Pell ignored. But the brief flash had given up his position.Then he heard his pursuer laugh softly and he knew the game was up. Hefelt rather than heard him moving in.
Paumm!
Pell's universe rocked in the reverberating thunder of the explosion.
Paumm! Paumm!
Twice more it was repeated and in the vivid flash Pell saw hisassailant twist and collapse on his face. His amazement fought witha new dread. Someone had come to his aid, but with an ancient,chemical-reaction, hand weapon. What did that mean? With his backtensed against the wall, Pell strained his perceptions to the utmost,trying to adjust his eyes once more to the darkness. Then he jumped.
"Pell!" It was a woman's voice! "Fletcher Pell! Come out—I am afriend!"
He was aware of a faint outlander quality in her accent—as if she werea colonial. Dimly he could make out her slight figure at the mouth ofthe cul de sac. He moved cautiously toward her, stopping to pick upthe blaster of the fallen DIC agent. The comforting feel of its buttgave him confidence as he walked toward her.
"Who are you?" Pell asked. She was small and lithe, and in the dimradiance of the street lights he noticed that she had brown hair withglints of spun-gold in it.
She did not reply to his question but put a soft hand over his mouth."Let your questions wait. We must leave quickly, else they find us,"she said huskily. She led him from the alley and walked breathlesslydown the dark street, two of her steps matching one of his long ones.
There was a fast-looking black speeder at the corner. She motioned himin and no sooner had the door closed than the speeder leaped forwardand melted into the traffic. The girl relaxed in the seat beside him,the sudden easing of the tension making her hands shake.
"Who are you?" Pell asked, repeating his earlier question.
She looked at him keenly in the dim light that splashed through thewindows of the speeder. "Perhaps, Mr. Pell," she replied at length,"it would not be too wise to reveal identities yet. I have a certainproposition to discuss and I think it might be better to talk firstabout that."
Pell shrugged and said, "As long as you choose to remain my unknownbenefactor, how about benefiting me with a drink?"
The voice of the driver replied unexpectedly from the front seat."Here."
Pell accepted a gleaming flask and took a long drink. "Ahh," he said atl