Morgues -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories; Space ships -- Fiction; War stories
Logan interrupted Brandon's exultant thinking by blowing smoke in
his face. "You know something, Brandy? This is damn good! You done
something, Mister. Yeah."
"I thought I told you to notify Earth."
"Ah, I been watching you. Like a mama hen and her chick. I been
thinking, too. Yeah." Logan shook ashes off his smoke. "Ever since you
pulled in this prize fish, I been turning it over in my mind."
"Go up to the radio room and call Earth. We've got to rush the
Scientist to Moon Base immediately. We can talk later."
There was that hard green shine to Logan's narrow eyes again. He poked
a finger at Brandon. "Here's the way I get it. Do we get rewarded for
finding this guy? Hell, no. It's our routine work. We're _supposed_ to
pick up bodies. Here we got a guy who's the key to the whole damn war."
Brandon's lips hardly moved. "Call Earth."
"Now, hold on a moment, Brandy. Let me finish this. I been thinking,
maybe the Martians'd like to own him, too. Maybe they'd like to be
around when he starts talking."
Brandon made a fist. "You heard what I said."
Logan put his hand behind him. "I just want to talk peaceable with you,
Brandy. I don't want trouble. But all we'll get for finding this stiff
is a kiss on the cheek and a medal on the chest. Hell!"
Brandon was going to hit him hard, before he saw the gun in Logan's
fingers, whipped out and pointing.
"Take a look at this, Brandy, and don't lose your supper."
In spite of himself, Brandon quailed. It was almost an involuntary
action. His whole body plunged back, aching, pulling with it.
"Now, let's march up to the radio room. I got a little calling to do.
Get on with you. Hup!"
In the radio-room, Logan touched studs, raised a mike to his lips and
said:
"Beam to Mars. Beam to Mars. Morgue Ship of Earth calling. Mars Beam
answer."
After an interval, Mars gave answer. Logan said:
"I've just picked up the body of a 51 Circle Scientist. He's been
resuscitated. Give me your fleet commander. I got things to talk over
with him." Logan smiled. "Oh, _hello_, commander!"
* * * * *
Half an hour later, the discussions were over, the plans made. Logan
hung up, satisfied. Brandon looked at him as if he couldn't believe he
was serious.
Back down in the control room, Logan set a course, and then forced
Brandon to get the body ready. He bragged about the deal. "A half ton
of radium, Brandy. Not bad, eh? Good pay. More than Earth'd ever give
me for my routine duty."
Brandon shuddered. "You fool. The Martians will kill us."
"Uh-uh." Logan pantomimed him into moving the body onto a rollered
table and taking it to the emergency life-craft air-lock. "I'm not that
dumb. I'm having you wire this emergency life-boat with explosive. We
collect the minerals first. We blow up the body if the Martians act
funny. We make them wait until we've collected our half and gotten five
hours' start toward Earth before we allow them to pick up the body.
Nice, huh?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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