Earth's espionage ring was a headache, sothe Martian Security Chief offered ten thousandcredits for a key agent. But even for a price—
"This man is a spy forEarth," a voice droned,as the telecaster vibratedand a photo of Harry Horn flashedon the screen. "Ten thousandcredits for this man, dead or alive.Contact Lazar of the SecurityPolice. Harry Horn. Thirty-four,five feet, eleven inches, onehundred and seventy-two pounds."
Lynn Brickel snapped off thehumming machine. She frowned.Horn had been high in the MartianSecurity Police, one of Lazar'stop men. Now Horn turned outto be a spy for Earth. Why hadn'tshe been told? Was Green losinghis trust in her? Hadn't shehelped McLean and Sandersonescape from Mars?
Her short tunic shimmered asshe began to pace the floor. Shestopped short as a hum splashedthrough the room. She went quicklyto the door and pressed a redbutton on the wall.
But the vibration of the elevatordid not reach her ears. Puzzled,she opened the door, stepped intothe marble hall. She shrugged,started to return to her apartmentwhen the sound of footsteps onthe stairs halted her. She waited.
He came into view. Harry Horn.There was no mistaking his face.It had flashed on and off thetelecaster throughout the day.
"Brickel?" he said, coming upto her.
His white coveralls were spottedwith grime. There was a darkbruise on his right cheek.
"Yes," she said.
"I'm Harry Horn."
"I know."
"You've got to help me." Hisvoice was urgent, pleading. Hebrushed past her, into her room.She walked in after him, shut andlocked the door, leaned her backagainst it.
"You can't stay here," she said.
"Are you alone?"
"Yes," she said. "I'm alone."
He went through the apartment,returned to the front room. "Ihad to make sure." He sank intothe low divan, covered his facewith his hands.
She walked toward him. "Youcan't stay here," she repeated.
He looked up at her, his eyesfrightened. "Do you have anyidea of what Lazar will do to meonce he gets his fat hands aroundmy throat? He won't kill me rightaway."
"Why come to me?"
"You can help me."
"What can I do?"
"You can help me get away.A turbo-engine space ship. That'sall I need. It's small and fast."
"But why come to me? Youhaven't explained."
"You helped McLean and Sanderson."
"How do you know this?"
"We're both in the same organizationbut not in the same unit.The leader of my unit instructedme to go to you."
"I see. Who is your leader?"
"I can't tell you. You knowthat. I wouldn't ask you yourleader's name."
Lynn shrugged slim shoulders."It wouldn't make any difference.He is not stationed onMars."
Horn jumped to his feet. "Youwill help me?"
"If I can."
"Can you get me the ship?"
"I suppose. But we'll have towait for night. It is dangerous todo anything now. Ten thousandcredits. Lazar wants you awfulbad. He offered five for bothMcLean and Sanderson."
"I was very close to Lazar inthe Security Police. I know toomuch."
"We all make mistakes."
"I envy your logic. But I can'tsee it that way. I was consideredtoo good an agent to make a mistake."
"It's too late to cry over it now.When it is dark I'll contact—afriend—and have the space shipready."
Horn grinned. "You're still notsure of me?"
"It isn't that. But you don'tbelong to my unit. We can't namenames to outsiders."
"You're right, of course. You'vebeen well