"Take me to the Hotel de Mars," he told the driver. He leaned back
comfortably, gloved hands resting on the head of his cane while he
looked around him. A strange, glass-domed city, set in the heart of
Mars' desert wastelands. A thriving city, with low buildings touching
the glass roof of the dome.
The rain-maker went on, the first drops splattering down from the
overhead sprinkler system. Unterzuyder cringed.
"Driver, driver!" he cried, rapping smartly with his cane. "Do you want
me to catch my death?"
The driver hurriedly caused the separate halves of the glassteel cupola
to fold over the car. Unterzuyder settled back injuredly.
* * * * *
At the registration desk of the Hotel de Mars, he asked for, and was
shown to the room of, Mr. Nathaniel and Miss Fayette Beecher. The door
was thrown open by a tanned blonde girl in smart gray jodhpurs and
slick boots.
Her face at first registered a nervousness. Then it smoothed.
"Oh!" she sang out, blue eyes widening and taking him in from head to
toe. "You must be Mr. Straley." She cocked her lively face cutely to
one side. "_Are_ you?"
Unterzuyder's heart banged. He bit his lip. This was exactly the kind
of girl his dead mother warned him to stay away from. Coquettish. Sexy.
Treacherous, like most females. And he had lately noticed, to his
dismay, that he, an Unterzuyder, was becoming far too susceptible to
such unhealthy influences.
"I am Mr. Straley," he said coldly. "Carruthers Straley, founder of
Titan Settlers, Ltd. Shall I come in?"
"Please _do_. For a moment, I lost my wits."
She's making a play for me, like all females, he thought.
Discouragedly, Unterzuyder went in. He sat down on a sponge-plastic
chair, resting his gloved hands on his cane and looking upon the girl
sternly.
"Daddy!" she sang out. "Mr. Straley is here!"
A man with a half-bald head and a deep tan lunged into the room
carrying a heavy rocket-gun. His grin was wide, his voice reedy and
enthusiastic. He was happy to know Mr. Straley. He laid the gun
tenderly on the floor. Unterzuyder looked at it distrustfully.
Beecher's reedy laugh sounded. "It's not cocked," he explained. "You
caught me right in the middle of a clean-and-polish job. That ol' gun
o' mine's been everywhere, mister. Most of the Moons of Jupiter, out
on the deserts--even Africa. Yessir, our exploring expeditions have
taken us into every corner of the Solar System that's available."
The girl whipped open a drawer in the bottom of a boxy chair made of
crystal glassteel. "And here's _my_ pet!" She reached in to pull out
a long-snouted neutron gun with a triple trigger. Unterzuyder's heart
banged for the third time in an hour. In the drawer was one other
object: _Tertium Organum_, A Key To The Enigmas Of The World.
An old book. A musty book. The book from his beloved dead father's
library. The book that held the Unterzuyder map.
His breath hissed. Beecher leaned solicitously forward. "Anything
wrong, Mr. Straley?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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