Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net Jungle in the Sky By Milton Lesser _The hunters wanted animals that lived on far Ganymede--though not as badly as the animals wanted the hunters._ [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, May 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The big man looked at home among his trophies. Somehow his scowl seemed as fierce as the head of the Venusian swamp-tiger mounted on the wall behind him, and there was something about his quick-darting eyes which reminded Steve of a Callistan fire-lizard. The big man might have been all of them wrapped into one, Steve thought wryly, and there were a lot of trophies. [Illustration: _The big man looked at home among his trophies._] He was the famous Brody Carmical, and rumor had it he was worth a million credits for each of the many richly mounted heads. "So you're fresh out of school with a degree in Extra-terrestrial zoology," Carmical grumbled. "Am I supposed to turn cartwheels?" Steve cleared his throat. "The Placement Service thought you might have a job--" "I do, I do. That doesn't mean any young pup who comes along can fill it. Ever been off the Earth, Mr. Stedman?" "No." "Ever been off the North American continent?" "No." "But you want to go galavanting around the Solar System in search of big game. Tell me--do you think they have a Harvard club on every stinking satellite you'll visit? Do you think you can eat beefsteak and drink martinis in every frontier-world dive? Let me tell you, Mr. Stedman, the answer is no." "Try me, sir. That's all I ask--try me." "We're not running a school, Mr. Stedman. Either a man's got it or he hasn't. You haven't. Come back in ten years. Ship out around the Solar System the hard way, and maybe we can use you then--if you still remember what you learned about Extra-terrestrial zoology. What in space ever made you study extra-zoo, anyway?" "I found it interesting," Steve said lamely. "Interesting? As a hobby, it's interesting. But as business, it's hard work, a lot of sweat, a lot of danger, squirming around on your soft belly in the muck and mud of a dozen worlds, that's what it is. Just how do you think Carmical Enterprises got where they are? Sweat and grief, Mr. Stedman." Carmical yawned hugely and popped a glob of chocolate into his mouth. His fat lips worked for a moment, then his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. Steve got up, paced back and forth in front of the desk. "I won't take no for an answer, Mr. Carmical." "Eh? What's that? I could have you thrown out of here." "You won't," Steve told him calmly. "Maybe I'm just what the doctor ordered, but you'll never know until you try me. So--" "So nothing! I said this isn't a school."