Criminals -- Fiction; Identity -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories
He had a plan, even if he lacked the armed battle cruiser that the
pirates had in the teletapes. There was a small corvet waiting for him
on Ignatz XI. It lacked the restricted official light-drive of military
and police craft, having only a civilian planetary-field booster, but
if all went well, it would be sufficient for his escape.
Baker glanced at the dial of his watch--it showed no tell-tale color of
listening devices within his area. (The detector had been sold to him
by an ETI agent and, of course, it lied.) Confident, he stepped over
the chain separating him from the stairs to "B" Deck.
Wurmong was waiting for him as planned.
"_Si_," the fat, swarthy man said, "my brother, my nephews, my
cousins--we will bring our extra luggage to the cargo hold tonight."
"I'll predispose the guards. Come right into Hold 7. Understand?"
"_Da_," Wurmong assured him.
The man on watch collapsed soundlessly at a beam of nerve pressure on
the neck, and Baker slipped inside, immediately beginning to eject the
first-grade readers through the escape hatch by the gross.
The mercenary, Wurmong, and his army of family arrived with experienced
stealth and began dumping the new books from their privileged luggage.
Baker replaced the contents of the opened crates with the variant
readers. These volumes might be the tiny counterbalance needed to
free a world of swinoids from domination by Earth. Who knew the full
extent of the psychological effect of _The Three Little Pigs_ on young,
formative minds?
His work done, Baker sadly regarded the precious jewels and the
negotiable bonds from the registered mail. There was no way around it.
This had to look like a robbery. It was necessary that he take them.
Quickly, he stuffed everything into his synthetic appendix....
* * * * *
Baker was allowed to disembark on Ignatz XI so that he might be traced
to his alien fellow-conspirators.
The heavy-jowled biped who greeted him at the smoky tavern was joyous.
"You have done the next best thing for us to enabling us to tell your
busybody missionaries to go home. We look upon you as one of our own
and are hungry for the sight of you. May you remain with us long."
"Too much work," Baker said, gagging over the native beer. "But I must
ask you a favor. You implied you'd give me your right arm."
"Anything we have is yours. But would not a cadaver's limb suit you as
well as mine?"
"I must escape from this world. You can give a private citizen like me
something only a sovereign government can. I want the jump drive."
"Not that!"
"Yes! I've earned it, haven't I?"
The swinoid nodded wearily. "You have. The device will be put in your
spacer. Use it only in deep space."
He was now in orbit. That was far enough out. Earth patrols could still
pick him up easily. The ETI spy pickup observed him as he reached out
and put a finger to the button of the device given him by the Swinoids,
as Earth ships closed rapidly. He pressed the button.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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