Adventure stories; Male friendship -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories
The ship pulled in close to headquarters, the lock opened and three
figures appeared. Hooking in their lines they sailed over to us.
As they came closer I could make out Dudley's handsome features. With
an expression on them I didn't like. The other two just looked familiar.
"Hello, Outhouse," he sneered. "You too, genius. I must admit you did
it. It's really too bad that your sun isn't stable, isn't it?"
I started to bridle.
"Whaddayamean, not stable?" I roared. "You know damn well that I know
damn well that that sun is stable as space itself."
"I said it wasn't stable, didn't I? How's a small sun like that going
to stand up under the atomic bomb we're going to plant in it? Take it
easy, Outhouse!"
For Murphy had started to place his feet for a spring. But he couldn't
do anything against the paralyzers that suddenly appeared in the hands
of Dudley's henchmen. I remembered them now. No hope in that direction.
They were the two whose girls we had taken back in the _Solar Spin
Club_. They must have had an interest in Drake's business 'cause I
can't see knocking a guy off for stealing your girl. I guess they took
that sort of thing seriously though, they got such few opportunities
from the looks of them.
"Now that we have that settled, I guess we know what we can expect,"
said Murphy.
"That's right," said Drake silkily. "We are going to aim the bomb right
at the center of your little beer plant. Where's your partner?"
We looked at each other. Then we turned back to Drake and shrugged.
"No spikka da Inglish," we said.
Drake's voice hardened. I didn't like the sound of it.
"Where did he go? Come across or you'll be here to watch that bomb go
off."
The two pleasant customers he'd brought with him didn't even bat an
eye. I guess they were pretty used to his dealings.
I was beginning to get hot. That's a habit with me. I started to jump
up and down, as well as I could with no gravity for the down.
"Dirty Dudley, you dastard--" I started but that was as far as I got.
He stepped forward and slapped the side of my helmet with the butt of
a paralyzer he pulled out of his belt. In the close confines of the
plastecele casing it sounded like all the tail plates in Space Port One
had dropped on me all at once. When I recovered and got up, Drake was
covering Murphy carefully with the paralyzer and the other two guys
were getting ready to jump back to the ship. For the bomb, I guessed.
Drake turned to me.
"A couple more cracks like that and your ears won't be much good," he
told me. "Better take it easy with your tongue."
I started to sputter but a glance from Outhouse silenced me. I guess he
knew Drake better than I did, although I was beginning to catch up with
him.
Drake cautiously started to throw his eyes around.
"Well, where is he?"
"We don't know," I popped up, sticking out my head, literally.
"I didn't ask you," said Drake, giving me a dirty look and casting a
speculative eye over my helmet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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