[p 8]
They grounded Ramsey’s ship on a hostile planet hopinghe would starve to death, so the first thing he did wasgive most of his money away and lose the rest gambling.Then he picked a fight with the Chief of Police andjoined forces with a half-naked dream-chick who wasseemingly bent on self-destruction. The stakes werebig—a planet or two—but it all added up to an——
Equation |
of Doom |
| By GERALD VANCE |
“Your name ith Jathon Ramthey?” the Port SecurityOfficer lisped politely.
Jason Ramsey, who worethe uniform of InterstellarTransfer Service and was theonly Earthman in the Servicehere on Irwadi, smiled andsaid: “Take three guesses.You know darn well I’mRamsey.” He was a big maneven by Earth standards,which meant he towered overthe Irwadian’s green, scalyhead. He was fair of skin andhad hair the color of copper.It was rumored on Irwadi andelsewhere that he couldn’t returnto Earth because of somecrime he had committed.
“Alwayth the chip on theshoulder,” the Port SecurityOfficer said. “Won’t youEarthmen ever learn?” Thesplay-tongued reptile-humanoidsof Irwadi always spokeInterstellar Coine with apronounced lisp which Ramseyfound annoying, especiallysince it went so well with theofficious and underhandedbehavior for which the Irwadianswere famous the galaxyover.
“Get to the point,” Ramseysaid harshly. “I have a shipto take through hyper-space.”
“No. You have no ship.”
“No? Then what’s this?”His irritation mounting, Ramseypulled out the InterstellarTransfer Service authorizationform and showed it to theSecurity Officer. “A tip-sheetfor the weightless races atFomalhaut VI?”
The Security Officer said:“Ha, ha, ha.” He could notlaugh; he merely uttered thephonetic equivalent of[p 9] laughter. On harsh Irwadi, laughterwould have been a culturalanomaly. “You make joketh.Well, nevertheleth, you haveno ship.” He expanded hisscaly green barrel chest anddeclaimed: “At 0400 hoursthith morning, the governmentof Irwadi hath planetarithedthe Irwadi TranthferThervith.”
“Planetarized the TransferService!” gaspe