Thornwald had done his tour of duty for the Solar Service; now it was time for him to retire But a life of relaxation would not be simple on-- Bleekman's Planet By Ivar Jorgensen [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy February 1957 Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Looking around cautiously, Mac Thornwald eased himself down from the window ledge where he had been crouching. It was less than a ten-foot drop, but because of the pain in his left ankle he didn't dare to drop too heavily. His right leg would have to take the brunt of the shock. As he struck the plastosteel pavement, he clamped his lips together to cut short the moan of pain that welled up as his left foot twisted under him. He staggered a little and then straightened to look around. No one had heard anything. The city around him was still silent. He still had a chance. Only the ghostly whispers of the air-reptiles drifting through the sky could be heard. Taking a deep breath, he reholstered the pistol he was clutching and began limping up the dark street toward the Governor's Mansion. Eventually, the numbing pain began to leave his foot. The stun beam had hit the nerves near the ankle, but the effect wore off after several minutes of walking. _Okay_, he thought. _I'm back in business again._ The Governor of Bleekman's Planet had reckoned wrong when he tried to take personal property away from an ex-Patrolman. * * * * * MacKenzie Thornwald had landed on Bleekman's Planet less than eight hours before. He was a young man, tall and dark and hard-looking, with the deep tan of the veteran spaceman. Ten years with the Interstellar Police had strengthened him and taught him to take care of himself. He'd still be in the service except for the loss of his left arm, which had been burned off by a Mark X rifle during a skirmish. It had earned Thornwald a medal and a fat retirement pension. So he had decided to take it easy for the rest of his life. He had picked Bleekman's Planet. It was well out of the more civilized areas of the Galaxy, a frontier planet out on the Rim. Bleekman's Planet had, as yet, only one city--Velliston. The setup had looked good. There was money to be made on a frontier planet, away from the main stream of Galactic civilization. Mac Thornwald had wanted to settle down in a small, sparsely-populated area and just take it easy the rest of his life. And Bleekman's Planet had looked like just the place. He couldn't have been wronger. Trouble started the moment he got off the space shuttle from the liner. "Here you are, pal," the shuttle pilot said. "All set?"