The HELLFLOWER
A Novel by
GEORGE O. SMITH
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Startling Stories, May 1952.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The book had been thrown at Charles Farradyne. Then they had added thecomposing room, the printing press, and the final grand black smearof printer's ink. So when Howard Clevis located Farradyne working inthe fungus fields of Venus four years later, Farradyne was a beatenman who no longer burned with resentment because he was all burnedout. Farradyne looked up dully when Clevis came into the squalidrooming-house.
"I am Howard Clevis," said the visitor.
"Fine," mumbled Farradyne. "So what?" He looked at one of the few whiteshirts in a thousand miles and grunted disapprovingly.
"I've got a job for you."
"Who do you want killed?"
"Take it easy. You're the Charles Farradyne who—"
"Who dumped the Semiramide into The Bog ... and you're Santa Claus,here to undo it?"
"This is on the level, Farradyne."
Farradyne laughed shortly, but the sound was all scorn and no humor.While the raw bark was still echoing in the room, he added, "Can it,Clevis. With a thousand licensed spacemen handy everywhere, willing tolatch onto an honest buck, any man that comes halfway across Venus tooffer Farradyne a job can't be on the level."
Clevis eyed Farradyne calculatingly. "I should think you might enjoythe chance."
"It doesn't look good."
Clevis smiled calmly. He had the air of a man who knew what he wasdoing. He was medium tall, with a sprinkle of gray in his hair anddetermined lines near the eyes and across the forehead. There wascharacter in his face, strong and no doubt about it. "I'm here,Farradyne, just because of the way it looks. But the fact is that Ineed you. I know you're bitter, but—"
"Bitter!" roared Farradyne, getting to his feet and stalking across thesqualid room towards Clevis. "Bitter? My God! They haul me home on ashutter so they can give me a fair trial before they kick me out. Youdon't think I like it in this rat hole, do you?"
"No, I don't. But listen, will you?"
"Nobody listened to me, why should I listen to you?"
"Because I have something to say," said Clevis pointedly. "Do you wantto hear it?"
"Go ahead."
"I'm Howard Clevis of the Solar Anti-Narcotic Department."
Farradyne snorted. "Well, I haven't got any. I don't use any. And Idon't have much truck with those that do."
"Nobody is on trial here—nothing that you say can be used in anyway. That's why I came alone. Look ... if I were in your shoes I'd doanything at all to get out of this muck-field."
"Some things even a bum won't do. And I don't owe you anything."
"Wrong. When you dumped the Semiramide into The Bog four years ago, youkilled one of our best operatives. We need you, Farradyne, and you oweus for that. Now?"
"When I dumped the Semiramide no one would listen to me. Do you want tolisten to me now?"
"No, I don't."
"I got a raw deal."
"So did the man you killed."
"I didn't kill anybody!" yelled Farradyne.
Clevis eyed Farradyne calmly, even though Farradyne was large enoughto take the smaller, older man's hide off if he got angry enough. "I'mnot here to argue that poin