Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories; Spy stories
Earth's espionage ring was a headache, so the Martian Security Chief
offered ten thousand credits for a key agent. But even for a price--
SPIES DIE HARD!
_By Arnold Marmor_
"This man is a spy for Earth," a voice droned, as the telecaster
vibrated and a photo of Harry Horn flashed on the screen. "Ten thousand
credits for this man, dead or alive. Contact Lazar of the Security
Police. Harry Horn. Thirty-four, five feet, eleven inches, one hundred
and seventy-two pounds."
Lynn Brickel snapped off the humming machine. She frowned. Horn had been
high in the Martian Security Police, one of Lazar's top men. Now Horn
turned out to be a spy for Earth. Why hadn't she been told? Was Green
losing his trust in her? Hadn't she helped McLean and Sanderson escape
from Mars?
Her short tunic shimmered as she began to pace the floor. She stopped
short as a hum splashed through the room. She went quickly to the door
and pressed a red button on the wall.
But the vibration of the elevator did not reach her ears. Puzzled, she
opened the door, stepped into the marble hall. She shrugged, started to
return to her apartment when the sound of footsteps on the stairs halted
her. She waited.
He came into view. Harry Horn. There was no mistaking his face. It had
flashed on and off the telecaster throughout the day.
"Brickel?" he said, coming up to her.
His white coveralls were spotted with grime. There was a dark bruise on
his right cheek.
"Yes," she said.
"I'm Harry Horn."
"I know."
"You've got to help me." His voice was urgent, pleading. He brushed past
her, into her room. She walked in after him, shut and locked the door,
leaned her back against it.
"You can't stay here," she said.
"Are you alone?"
"Yes," she said. "I'm alone."
He went through the apartment, returned to the front room. "I had to
make sure." He sank into the low divan, covered his face with his hands.
She walked toward him. "You can't stay here," she repeated.
He looked up at her, his eyes frightened. "Do you have any idea of what
Lazar will do to me once he gets his fat hands around my throat? He
won't kill me right away."
"Why come to me?"
"You can help me."
"What can I do?"
"You can help me get away. A turbo-engine space ship. That's all I need.
It's small and fast."
"But why come to me? You haven't explained."
"You helped McLean and Sanderson."
"How do you know this?"
"We're both in the same organization but not in the same unit. The
leader of my unit instructed me to go to you."
"I see. Who is your leader?"
"I can't tell you. You know that. I wouldn't ask you your leader's
name."
* * * * *
Lynn shrugged slim shoulders. "It wouldn't make any difference. He is
not stationed on Mars."
Horn jumped to his feet. "You will help me?"
"If I can."
"Can you get me the ship?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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