E-text prepared by Greg Weeks, David Wilson, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) +--------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | Transcriber's note: | | | | This story was published in _Amazing Stories_, February | | 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that | | the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. | | | +--------------------------------------------------------------+ [Illustration: equation of doom His agony of soul at being unable to save Margot was far greater than physical torture.] _They grounded Ramsey's ship on a hostile planet hoping he would starve to death, so the first thing he did was give most of his money away and lose the rest gambling. Then he picked a fight with the Chief of Police and joined forces with a half-naked dream-chick who was seemingly bent on self-destruction. The stakes were big--a planet or two--but it all added up to an----_ EQUATION OF DOOM by GERALD VANCE "Your name ith Jathon Ramthey?" the Port Security Officer lisped politely. Jason Ramsey, who wore the uniform of Interstellar Transfer Service and was the only Earthman in the Service here on Irwadi, smiled and said: "Take three guesses. You know darn well I'm Ramsey." He was a big man even by Earth standards, which meant he towered over the Irwadian's green, scaly head. He was fair of skin and had hair the color of copper. It was rumored on Irwadi and elsewhere that he couldn't return to Earth because of some crime he had committed. "Alwayth the chip on the shoulder," the Port Security Officer said. "Won't you Earthmen ever learn?" The splay-tongued reptile-humanoids of Irwadi always spoke Interstellar _Coine_ with a pronounced lisp which Ramsey found annoying, especially since it went so well with the officious and underhanded behavior for which the Irwadians were famous the galaxy over. "Get to the point," Ramsey said harshly. "I have a ship to take through hyper-space." "No. You have no ship." "No? Then what's this?" His irritation mounting, Ramsey pulled out the Interstellar Transfer Service authorization form and showed it to the Security Officer. "A tip-sheet for the weightless races at Fomalhaut VI?" The Security Officer said: "Ha, ha, ha." He could not laugh; he merely uttered the phonetic equivalent of laughter. On harsh Irwadi, laughter would have been a cultural anomaly. "You make joketh. Well, nevertheleth, you have no ship." He expanded his scaly green barrel chest and declaimed: "At 0400 hours thith morning, the government of Irwadi hath planetarithed the Irwadi Tranthfer Thervith." * * * * *