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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..15aa7fd --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51781 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51781) diff --git a/old/51781-h.zip b/old/51781-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 244e597..0000000 --- a/old/51781-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51781-h/51781-h.htm b/old/51781-h/51781-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index ff2b369..0000000 --- a/old/51781-h/51781-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1980 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of The King of the City, by Keith Laumer. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } -.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } -.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } -.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The King of the City, by Keith Laumer - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The King of the City - -Author: Keith Laumer - -Release Date: April 17, 2016 [EBook #51781] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KING OF THE CITY *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="401" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>THE KING OF THE CITY</h1> - -<p>By KEITH LAUMER</p> - -<p>Illustrated by FINLAY</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Galaxy Magazine August 1961.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3"><i>He was a sort of taxi-driver, delivering<br /> -a commuter to the city. The tank traps and<br /> -armored cars were the hazards of the trade!</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>I stood in the shadows and looked across at the rundown lot with -the windblown trash packed against the wire mesh barrier fence and -the yellow glare panel that said HAUG ESCORT. There was a row of -city-scarred hacks parked on the cracked ramp. They hadn't suffered -the indignity of a wash-job for a long time. And the two-story frame -building behind them—that had once been somebody's country house—now -showed no paint except the foot-high yellow letters over the office -door.</p> - -<p>Inside the office a short broad man with small eyes and yesterday's -beard gnawed a cigar and looked at me.</p> - -<p>"Portal-to-portal escort cost you two thousand C's," he said. -"Guaranteed."</p> - -<p>"Guaranteed how?" I asked.</p> - -<p>He waved the cigar. "Guaranteed you get into the city and back out -again in one piece." He studied his cigar. "If somebody don't plug you -first," he added.</p> - -<p>"How about a one-way trip?"</p> - -<p>"My boy got to come back out, ain't he?"</p> - -<p>I had spent my last brass ten-dollar piece on a cup of coffee eight -hours before, but I had to get into the city. This was the only idea I -had left.</p> - -<p>"You've got me wrong," I said. "I'm not a customer. I want a job."</p> - -<p>"Yeah?" He looked at me again, with a different expression, like a guy -whose new-found girl friend has just mentioned a price.</p> - -<p>"You know Gra'nyauk?"</p> - -<p>"Sure," I said. "I grew up here."</p> - -<p>He asked me a few more questions, then thumbed a button centered in a -ring of grime on the wall behind him. A chair scraped beyond the door; -it opened and a tall bony fellow with thick wrists and an adams apple -set among heavy neck tendons came in.</p> - -<p>The man behind the desk pointed at me with his chin.</p> - -<p>"Throw him out, Lefty."</p> - -<p>Lefty gave me a resentful look, came around the desk and reached for my -collar. I leaned to the right and threw a hard left jab to the chin. He -rocked back and sat down.</p> - -<p>"I get the idea," I said. "I can make it out under my own power." I -turned to the door.</p> - -<p>"Stick around, mister. Lefty's just kind of a like a test for -separating the men from the boys."</p> - -<p>"You mean I'm hired?"</p> - -<p>He sighed. "You come at a good time. I'm short of good boys."</p> - -<p>I helped Lefty up, then dusted off a chair and listened to a half-hour -briefing on conditions in the city. They weren't good. Then I went -upstairs to the chart room to wait for a call.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was almost ten o'clock when Lefty came into the room where I was -looking over the maps of the city. He jerked his head.</p> - -<p>"Hey, you."</p> - -<p>A weasel-faced man who had been blowing smoke in my face slid off his -stool, dropped his cigarette and smeared it under his shoe.</p> - -<p>"You," Lefty said. "The new guy."</p> - -<p>I belted my coat and followed him down the dark stairway, and out -across the littered tarmac, glistening wet under the polyarcs, to where -Haug stood talking to another man I hadn't seen before.</p> - -<p>Haug flicked a beady glance my way, then turned to the stranger. He -was a short man of about fifty with a mild expressionless face and -expensive clothes.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Stenn, this is Smith. He's your escort. You do like he tells you -and he'll get you into the city and see your party and back out again -in one piece."</p> - -<p>The customer looked at me. "Considering the fee I'm paying, I sincerely -hope so," he murmured.</p> - -<p>"Smith, you and Mr. Stenn take number 16 here." Haug patted a -hinge-sprung hood, painted a bilious yellow and scabbed with license -medallions issued by half a dozen competing city governments.</p> - -<p>Haug must have noticed something in Stenn's expression.</p> - -<p>"It ain't a fancy-looking hack, but she's got full armor, heavy-duty -gyros, crash-shocks, two-way music and panic gear. I ain't got a better -hack in the place."</p> - -<p>Stenn nodded, popped the hatch and got in. I climbed in the front and -adjusted the seat and controls to give me a little room. When I kicked -over the turbos they sounded good.</p> - -<p>"Better tie in, Mr. Stenn," I said. "We'll take the Canada turnpike in. -You can brief me on the way."</p> - -<p>I wheeled 16 around and out under the glare-sign that read "HAUG -ESCORT." In the eastbound linkway I boosted her up to 90. From the way -the old bus stepped off, she had at least a megahorse under the hood. -Maybe Haug wasn't lying, I thought. I pressed an elbow against the -power pistol strapped to my side.</p> - -<p>I liked the feel of it there. Maybe between it and old 16 I could get -there and back after all.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"My destination," Stenn said, "is the Manhattan section."</p> - -<p>That suited me perfectly. In fact, it was the first luck I'd had since -I burned the uniform. I looked in the rear viewer at Stenn's face. -He still wore no expression. He seemed like a mild little man to be -wanting into the cage with the tigers.</p> - -<p>"That's pretty rough territory, Mr. Stenn," I said. He didn't answer.</p> - -<p>"Not many tourists go there," I went on. I wanted to pry a little -information from him.</p> - -<p>"I'm a businessman," Stenn said.</p> - -<p>I let it go at that. Maybe he knew what he was doing. For me, there was -no choice. I had one slim lead, and I had to play it out to the end. I -swung through the banked curves of the intermix and onto the turnpike -and opened up to full throttle.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus1.jpg" width="504" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>It was fifteen minutes before I saw the warning red lights ahead. Haug -had told me about this. I slowed.</p> - -<p>"Here's our first roadblock, Mr. Stenn," I said. "This is an operator -named Joe Naples. All he's after is his toll. I'll handle him; you sit -tight in the hack. Don't say anything, don't do anything, no matter -what happens. Understand?"</p> - -<p>"I understand," Stenn said mildly.</p> - -<p>I pulled up. My lights splashed on the spikes of a Mark IX tank trap. I -set the parking jacks and got out.</p> - -<p>"Remember what I told you," I said. "No matter what." I walked up into -the beam of the lights.</p> - -<p>A voice spoke from off to the side.</p> - -<p>"Douse 'em, Rube."</p> - -<p>I went back and cut the lights. Three men sauntered out onto the -highway.</p> - -<p>"Keep the hands away from the sides, Rube."</p> - -<p>One of the men was a head taller than the others. I couldn't see his -face in the faint red light from the beacon, but I knew who he was.</p> - -<p>"Hello, Naples," I said.</p> - -<p>He came up to me. "You know me, Rube?"</p> - -<p>"Sure," I said. "The first thing Haug told me was pay my respects to -Mr. Naples."</p> - -<p>Naples laughed. "You hear that, boys? They know me pretty good on the -outside, ha?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He looked at me, not laughing any more. "I don't see you before."</p> - -<p>"My first trip."</p> - -<p>He jerked a thumb at the hack. "Who's your trick?"</p> - -<p>"A businessman. Name is Stenn."</p> - -<p>"Yeah? What kind business?"</p> - -<p>I shook my head. "We don't quiz the cash customers, Joe."</p> - -<p>"Let's take a look." Naples moved off toward the hack, the boys at -his side. I followed. Naples looked in at Stenn. Stenn sat relaxed -and looked straight ahead. Naples turned away, nodded to one of his -helpers. The two moved off a few yards.</p> - -<p>The other man, a short bullet-headed thug in a grease-spatted overcoat, -stood by the hack, staring in at Stenn. He took a heavy old-style -automatic from his coat pocket, pulled open the door. He aimed the gun -at Stenn's head and carefully squeezed the trigger.</p> - -<p>The hammer clicked emptily.</p> - -<p>"Ping," he said. He thrust the gun back in his pocket, kicked the door -shut and went over to join Naples.</p> - -<p>"Okay, Rube," Naples called.</p> - -<p>I went over to him.</p> - -<p>"I guess maybe you on the level," he said. "Standard fee. Five hundred, -Old Federal notes."</p> - -<p>I had to be careful now. I held a bland expression, reached -in—slowly—took out my wallet. I extracted two hundred-C notes and -held them out.</p> - -<p>Naples looked at them, unmoving. The thug in the dirty overcoat moved -up close, and suddenly swung the edge of his palm at my wrist. I was -ready; I flicked my hand aside and chopped him hard at the base of the -neck. He dropped.</p> - -<p>I was still holding out the money.</p> - -<p>"That clown isn't worthy of a place in the Naples organization," I said.</p> - -<p>Naples looked down at the man, stirred him with his foot.</p> - -<p>"A clown," he said. He took the money and tucked it in his shirt pocket.</p> - -<p>"Okay, Rube," he said. "My regards to Haug."</p> - -<p>I got in the hack and moved up to the barrier. It started up, trundled -aside. Naples was bending over the man I had downed. He took the pistol -from the pocket of the overcoat, jacked the action and aimed. There was -a sharp crack. The overcoat flopped once. Naples smiled over at me.</p> - -<p>"He ain't worthy a place in the Naples organization," he said.</p> - -<p>I waved a hand vaguely and gunned off down the road.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">II</p> - -<p>The speaker in my ear hummed.</p> - -<p>I grunted an acknowledgement and a blurred voice said, "Smith, listen. -When you cross the South Radial, pick up the Midwest Feed-off. Take it -easy and watch for Number Nine Station. Pull off there. Got it?"</p> - -<p>I recognized the voice. It was Lefty, Haug's Number One boy. I didn't -answer.</p> - -<p>"What was the call?" Stenn asked.</p> - -<p>"I don't know," I said. "Nothing."</p> - -<p>The lights of the South Radial Intermix were in sight ahead now.</p> - -<p>I slowed to a hundred and thought about it. My personal motives told -me to keep going, my job as a paid Escort was to get my man where he -wanted to go. That was tough enough, without detours. I eased back up -to one-fifty, took the Intermix with gyros screaming, and curved out -onto the thruway.</p> - -<p>The speaker hummed. "What are you trying to pull, wise guy?" He sounded -mad. "That was the South Radial you just passed up—"</p> - -<p>"Yeah," I said. "That's right. Smitty takes 'em there and he brings 'em -back. Don't call us, we'll call you."</p> - -<p>There was a long hum from the speaker. "Oh, a wiseacre," it said -finally. "Listen, rookie, you got a lot to learn. This guy is -bankrolled. I seen the wad when he paid Haug off. So all right, we cut -you in. Now, get this...."</p> - -<p>He gave me detailed instructions. When he was finished, I said, "Don't -wait up for me."</p> - -<p>I took the speaker out of my ear and dropped it into the disposal slot. -We drove along quietly for quite a while.</p> - -<p>I was beginning to recognize my surroundings. This section of the -turnpike had been opened the year before I left home. Except for the -lack of traffic and the dark windows along the way it hadn't changed.</p> - -<p>I was wondering just what Lefty's next move would be when a pair of -powerful beams came on from the left, then pulled onto the highway, -speeding up to pace me. I rocketed past before he had made full speed. -I heard a loud spang, and glass chips scattered on my shoulder. I -twisted and looked. A starred hole showed in the bubble, above the rear -seat.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Duck!" I yelled. Stenn leaned over, put his head down.</p> - -<p>The beams were gaining on me. I twisted the rear viewer, hit the I/R -switch. A three-ton combat car, stripped, but still mounting twin -infinite repeaters. Against that, old 16 was a kiddie car. I held my -speed and tried to generate an idea. What I came up with wasn't good, -but it was all I had.</p> - -<p>A half a mile ahead there should be a level-split, one of those awkward -ones that caused more than one pile-up in the first few months the -turnpike was open. Maybe my playmates didn't know about it.</p> - -<p>They were about to overtake me now. I slowed just a little, and started -fading to the right. They followed me, crowding my rear wheel. I heard -the spang again, twice, but nothing hit me. I was on the paved shoulder -now, and could barely see the faded yellow cross-hatching that warned -of the abutment that divided the pavement ahead.</p> - -<p>I held the hack in the yellow until the last instant, then veered right -and cleared the concrete barrier by a foot, hit the down-curve at a -hundred and eighty in a howl of gyros and brakes—and the thunderous -impact of the combat car.</p> - -<p>Then I was off the pavement, fighting the wheel, slamming through -underbrush, then miraculously back on the hard surface and coasting to -a stop in the clear.</p> - -<p>I took a deep breath and looked back. The burning remains of the car -were scattered for a quarter of a mile along the turnpike. That would -have been me if I had gauged it wrong.</p> - -<p>I looked at the canopy of the hack. Three holes, not a foot apart, -right where a passenger's head would be if he were sitting upright. -Stenn was unconcernedly brushing glass dust from his jacket.</p> - -<p>"Very neat, Mr. Smith," he said. "Now shall we resume our journey?"</p> - -<p>"Maybe it's time you leveled with me, Stenn," I said.</p> - -<p>He raised his eyebrows at me slightly.</p> - -<p>"When Joe Naples' boy Friday pointed the gun at your head you didn't -bat an eyelash," I said.</p> - -<p>"I believe those were your instructions," Stenn said mildly.</p> - -<p>"Pretty good for a simple businessman. I don't see you showing any -signs of the shakes now, either, after what some might call a harrowing -experience."</p> - -<p>"I have every confidence in your handling—"</p> - -<p>"Nuts, Stenn. Those three holes are pretty well grouped, wouldn't you -say? The man that put them there was hitting where he was aiming. And -he was aiming for you."</p> - -<p>"Why me?" Stenn looked almost amused.</p> - -<p>"I thought it was a little shakedown crew, out to teach me a lesson," I -said. "Until I saw where the shots were going."</p> - -<p>Stenn looked at me thoughtfully. He reached up and took a micro-speaker -from his ear.</p> - -<p>"The twin to the one you rashly disposed of," he said. "Mr. Haug was -kind enough to supply it—for a fee. I must tell you that I had a gun -in my hand as we approached the South Radial Intermix. Had you accepted -the invitation to turn off, I would have halted the car, shot you and -gone on alone. Happily, you chose to resist the temptation, for reasons -of your own...." He looked at me inquiringly.</p> - -<p>"Maybe I'm sap enough to take the job seriously," I said.</p> - -<p>"That may possibly be true," Stenn said.</p> - -<p>"What's your real errand here, Stenn? Frankly, I don't have time to get -involved."</p> - -<p>"Really? One wonders if you have irons in the fire, Smith. But never -mind. I shan't pry. Are we going on?"</p> - -<p>I gave him my stern penetrating look.</p> - -<p>"Yeah," I said. "We're going on."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In twenty minutes, we were on the Inner Concourse and the polyarcs were -close together, lighting the empty sweep of banked pavement. The lights -of the city sparkled across the sky ahead, and gave me a ghostly touch -of the old thrill of coming home.</p> - -<p>I doused that feeling fast. After eight years there was nothing left -there for me to come home to. The city had a lethal welcome for -intruders; it wouldn't be smart to forget that.</p> - -<p>I didn't see the T-Bird until his spot hit my eyes and he was beside -me, crowding.</p> - -<p>I veered and hit the brakes, with a half-baked idea of dropping back -and cutting behind him, but he stayed with me. I had a fast impression -of squealing metal and rubber, and then I was skidding to a stop up -against the deflector rails with the T-Bird slanted across my prow. Its -lid popped almost before the screech died away, and I was looking down -the muzzles of two power pistols. I kept both hands on the wheel, where -they could see them, and sat tight.</p> - -<p>I wondered whose friends we had met this time.</p> - -<p>Two men climbed out, the pistols in sight, and came up to the hack. -The first one was a heavy-set Slavic type zipped into a tight G. I. -weather suit. He motioned. I opened up and got out, not making any -sudden movements. Stenn followed. A cold wind was whipping along -the concourse, blowing a fine misty rain hard against my cheek. The -polyarcs cast black shadows on gray faces.</p> - -<p>The smaller man moved over to Stenn and crowded him back against the -hack. The Slav motioned again, and I moved over by the T-Bird. He -fished my wallet out and put it in his pocket without looking at it. -I heard the other man say something to Stenn, and then the sound of a -blow. I turned my head slowly, so as not to excite my watchdog. Stenn -was picking himself up. He started going through his pockets, showing -everything to the man with the gun, then dropping it on the ground. The -wind blew cards and papers along until they soaked up enough water to -stick. Stenn carried a lot of paper.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The gunny said something and Stenn started pulling off his coat. He -turned it inside out, and held it out. The gunny shook his head, and -motioned to my Slav. He looked at me, and I tried to read his mind. -I moved across toward the hack. I must have guessed right because -he didn't shoot me. The Slav pocketed his gun and took the coat. -Methodically, he tore the lining out, found nothing, dropped the ripped -garment and kicked it aside. I shifted position, and the Slav turned -and backhanded me up against the hack.</p> - -<p>"Lay off him, Heavy," the other hood said. "Maxy didn't say nothing -about this mug. He's just a Escort."</p> - -<p>Heavy started to get his gun out again. I had an idea he was thinking -about using it. Maybe that's why I did what I did. As his hand dipped -into his pocket, I lunged, wrapped an arm around him and yanked out my -own artillery. I held onto a handful of the weather suit and dug the -pistol in hard. He stood frozen. Heavy wasn't as dumb as he looked.</p> - -<p>His partner had backed a step, the pistol in his hand covering all of -us.</p> - -<p>"Drop it, Slim," I said. "No hard feelings, and we'll be on our way."</p> - -<p>Stenn stood absolutely motionless. He was still wearing his mild -expression.</p> - -<p>"Not a chance, mug," the gunny said softly. No one moved.</p> - -<p>"Even if you're ready to gun your way through your pal, I can't miss. -Better settle for a draw."</p> - -<p>"Maxy don't like draws, mister."</p> - -<p>"Stenn," I said. "Get in the T-Bird. Head back the way we came, and -don't slow down to read any billboards."</p> - -<p>Stenn didn't move.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Get going," I said. "Slim won't shoot."</p> - -<p>"I employed you," Stenn said, "to take care of the heroics."</p> - -<p>"If you've got any better ideas it's time to speak up, Stenn. This is -your only out, the way I see it."</p> - -<p>Stenn looked at the man with the gun.</p> - -<p>"You referred to someone named 'Maxy.' Would that by any chance be Mr. -Max Arena?"</p> - -<p>Slim looked at him and thought about it.</p> - -<p>"Could be," he said.</p> - -<p>Stenn came slowly over to the Slav. Standing well out of the line of -fire, he carefully put a hand in the loose pocket of the weather suit -and brought out the pistol. I saw Slim's eyes tighten. He was having to -make some tough decisions in a hurry.</p> - -<p>Stenn moved offside, pistol in hand.</p> - -<p>"Move away from him, Smith," he said.</p> - -<p>I didn't know what he had in mind, but it didn't seem like the time to -argue. I moved back.</p> - -<p>"Drop your gun," he said.</p> - -<p>I risked a glance at his mild expression.</p> - -<p>"Are you nuts?"</p> - -<p>"I came here to see Mr. Arena," he said. "This seems an excellent -opportunity."</p> - -<p>"Does it? I—"</p> - -<p>"Drop it now, Smith. I won't warn you again."</p> - -<p>I dropped it.</p> - -<p>Slim swiveled on Stenn. He was still in an awkward spot.</p> - -<p>"I want you to take me to Mr. Arena," Stenn said. "I have a proposition -to put before him." He lowered the gun and handed it to Heavy.</p> - -<p>It seemed like a long time until Slim lowered his gun.</p> - -<p>"Heavy, put him in the back seat." He motioned me ahead, watched me as -he climbed in the T-Bird.</p> - -<p>"Nice friends you got, mug," he said. The T-Bird started up, backed, -and roared off toward the city. I stood under the polyarcs and watched -the tail glare out of sight.</p> - -<p>Max Arena was the man I had come to the city to find.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">III</p> - -<p>Old number 16 was canted against the deflector rail, one side shredded -into curled strips of crumpled metal. I looked closer. Under the flimsy -fairings, gray armor showed. Maybe there was more to Haug's best hack -than met the eye. I climbed in and kicked over the starter. The turbos -sounded as good as ever. I eased the gyros in; she backed off the rail -with a screech of ripped metal.</p> - -<p>I had lost my customer, but I still had wheels.</p> - -<p>The smart thing to do now would be to head back out the turnpike to -Haug's lot, turn in my badge and keep moving, south. I could give up -while I was still alive. All I had to do was accept the situation.</p> - -<p>I had a wide choice. I could sign on with the New Confeds, or the Free -Texans, or any one of the other splinter republics trying to set up -shop in the power vacuum. I might try to get in to one of the Enclaves -and convince its Baron he needed another trained bodyguard. Or I could -take a post with one of the king-pins in the city.</p> - -<p>As a last resort I could go back and find a spot in the Naples -organization. I happened to know they had a vacancy.</p> - -<p>I was just running through mental exercises to hear myself think. -I couldn't settle for the kind of world I had found when I touched -planet three months back, after eight years in deep space with Hayle's -squadron. When the Interim Administration shot him for treason, I -burned my uniform and disappeared. My years in the Service had given me -a tough hide and a knack for staying alive; my worldly assets consisted -of the clothes I stood in, my service pistol and a few souvenirs of my -travels. For two months I had been scraping along on the cash I had -in my pocket, buying drinks for drifters in cheap bars, looking for a -hint, any lead at all, that would give me a chance to do what had to be -done. Max Arena was the lead. Maybe a dud lead—but I had to find out.</p> - -<p>The city lights loomed just a few miles away. I was wasting time -sitting here; I steered the hack out into the highway and headed for -them.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Apparently Lefty's influence didn't extend far beyond the South Radial. -The two roadblocks I passed in the next five miles took my money, -accepted my story that I was on my way to pick up a fare, said to say -hello to Haug and passed me on my way.</p> - -<p>Haug's sour yellow color scheme seemed to carry some weight with the -town Organizations, too. I was well into the city, cruising along -the third level Crossover, before I had any trouble. I was doing -about fifty, watching where I was going and looking for the Manhattan -Intermix, when a battered Gyrob four-seater trundled out across the -fairway and stopped. I swerved and jumped lanes; the Gyrob backed, -blocking me. I kicked my safety frame down and floor-boarded the hack, -steering straight for him. At the last instant he tried to pull out of -the way.</p> - -<p>He was too late.</p> - -<p>I clipped him across his aft quarter, and caught a glimpse of the -underside of the car as it stood on its nose, slammed through the -deflector and over the side. Old 16 bucked and I got a good crack -across the jaw from the ill-fitting frame, and then I was screeching -through the Intermix and out onto the Manhattan Third level.</p> - -<p>Up ahead, the glare panels at the top of the Blue Tower reared up -half a mile into the wet night sky. It wasn't a hard address to find. -Getting inside would be another matter.</p> - -<p>I pulled up a hundred yards from the dark cave they used to call -the limousine entrance and looked the situation over. The level was -deserted—like the whole city seemed, from the street. But there were -lights in the windows, level after level of them stretching up and away -as far as you could see. There were plenty of people in the city—about -ten million, even after the riots and the Food Scare and the collapse -of legal government. The automated city supply system had gone on -working, and the Kingpins, the big time criminals, had stepped in and -set things up to suit their tastes. Life went on—but not out in the -open. Not after dark.</p> - -<p>I knew almost nothing about Arena. Judging from his employees, he -was Kingpin of a prosperous outfit. The T-Bird was an expensive -late model, and the two thugs handled themselves like high-priced -talent. I couldn't expect to walk into his HQ without jumping a few -hurdles. Maybe I should have invited myself along with Stenn and his -new friends. On the other hand, there were advantages to arriving -unannounced.</p> - -<p>It was a temptation to drive in, with the hack's armor between me and -any little surprises that might be waiting, but I liked the idea of -staging a surprise of my own. I eased into drive and moved along to a -parking ramp, swung around and down and stopped in the shadow of the -retaining wall.</p> - -<p>I set the brake and took a good look around. There was nothing in -sight. Arena might have a power cannon trained on me from his bedroom -window, for all I knew, but I had to get a toe into the water sometime. -I shut down the turbo, and in the silence popped the lid and stepped -out. The rain had stopped, and the moon showed as a bright spot on the -high mist. I felt hungry and a little bit unreal, as though this were -happening to somebody else.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I moved over to the side of the parking slab, clambered over the -deflector rail and studied the shadows under the third level roadway. -I could barely make out the catwalks and service ways. I was wondering -whether to pull off my hard-soled shoes for the climb when I heard -footsteps, close. I gauged the distance to the hack, and saw I -couldn't make it. I got back over the rail and waited.</p> - -<p>He came into sight, rangy, shock-haired and preternaturally thin in -tight traditional dress.</p> - -<p>When he got close I saw that he was young, in his early twenties at -most. He would be carrying a knife.</p> - -<p>"Hey, Mister," he whined. "Got a cigarette?"</p> - -<p>"Sure, young fellow," I said, sounding a little nervous. I threw in a -shaky laugh to help build the picture. I took a cigarette from a pack, -put the pack back in my pocket, held the weed out. He strutted up to -me, reached out and flipped the cigarette from my fingers. I edged back -and used the laugh again.</p> - -<p>"Hey, he liked that," the punk whined. "He thinks that's funny. He got -a sense of humor."</p> - -<p>"Heh, heh," I said. "Just out getting a little air."</p> - -<p>"Gimme another cigarette, funny man."</p> - -<p>I took the pack out, watching. I got out a cigarette and held it -gingerly, arm bent. As he reached for it, I drew back. He snatched for -it. That put him in position.</p> - -<p>I dropped the pack, clenched my two hands together, ducked down and -brought them up hard under his chin. He backflipped, rolled over and -started crawling.</p> - -<p>I let him go.</p> - -<p>I went over the rail without stopping to think it over and crossed the -girder to the catwalk that ran under the boulevard above. I groped my -way along to where the service way branched off for the Blue Tower, -then stopped and looked up. A strip of luminous sky showed between the -third level and the facade of the building. Anybody watching from the -right spot would see me cross, walking on the narrow footway. It was a -chance I'd have to take. I started to move out, and heard running feet. -I froze.</p> - -<p>The feet slid to a stop on the level above, a few yards away.</p> - -<p>"What's up, Crackers?" somebody growled.</p> - -<p>"The mark sapped me down."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>That was interesting. I had been spotted and the punk had been sent to -welcome me. Now I knew where I stood. The opposition had made their -first mistake.</p> - -<p>"He was starting to cross under when I spot him," Crackers went on, -breathing heavily. "He saps me and I see I can't handle him and I go -for help."</p> - -<p>Someone answered in a guttural whisper. Crackers lowered his voice. It -wouldn't take long now for reinforcements to arrive and flush me out. -I edged farther and chanced a look. I saw two heads outlined above. -They didn't seem to be looking my way, so I started across, walking -silently toward a narrow loading platform with a wide door opening from -it.</p> - -<p>Below me, a lone light reflected from the wet pavement of the second -level, fifty feet down; the blank wall of the Blue Tower dropped past -it sheer to the glistening gutters at ground level. Then I was on the -platform and trying the door.</p> - -<p>It didn't open.</p> - -<p>It was what I should have expected. Standing in the full light from the -glare panel above the entry, I felt as exposed as a fan-dancer's navel. -There was no time to consider alternatives. I grabbed my power pistol, -flipped it to beam fire and stood aside with an arm across my face. I -gave the latch a blast, then kicked the door hard. It was solid as a -rock. Behind and above me, I heard Crackers yell.</p> - -<p>I beamed the lock again, tiny droplets of molten metal spattering like -needles against my face and hand. The door held.</p> - -<p>"Drop it and lift 'em, mug," a deep voice yelled. I twisted to look up -at the silhouettes against the deflector rail. I recognized the Slavic -face of the man called Heavy. So he could talk after all.</p> - -<p>"You're under my iron, mug," he called. "Freeze or I'll burn you."</p> - -<p>I believed him, but I had set something in motion that couldn't stop -now. There was nothing to go back to; the only direction for me was on -the way I was headed—deeper into trouble. I was tired of being the -mouse in a cat's game. I had taken the initiative and I was keeping it.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus2.jpg" width="351" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>I turned, set the power pistol at full aperture, and poured it to the -armored door. Searing heat reflected from the barrier, smoke boiled, -metal melted and ran. Through the stink of burning steel, I smelled -scorched hair—and felt heat rake the back of my neck and hands. Heavy -was beaming me at wide aperture, but the range was just too far for a -fast kill. The door sagged and fell in. I jumped through the glowing -opening, hit the floor and rolled to damp out my smouldering coat.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I got to my feet. There was no time now to stop and feel the pain of -my burns. They would expect me to go up—so I would go down. The Blue -Tower covered four city blocks and was four hundred stories high. There -was plenty of room in it for a man to lose himself.</p> - -<p>I ran along the corridor, found a continuous service belt and hopped -on, lay flat, rode it through the slot. I came out into the light of -the service corridor below, my gun ready, then down and around again. -I saw no one.</p> - -<p>It took ten minutes to cover the eighteen floors down to the -sub-basement. I rolled off the belt and looked around.</p> - -<p>The whole space was packed with automatics; the Blue Tower was a -self-sufficient city in itself. I recognized generators, heat pumps, -air plants. None of them were operating. The city services were all -still functioning, apparently. What it would be like in another ten or -twenty years of anarchy was anybody's guess. But when the city systems -failed the Blue Tower could go on on its own.</p> - -<p>Glare panels lit the aisles dimly. I prowled along looking for -an elevator bank. The first one I found indicated the car at the -hundred-eightieth floor. I went on, found another indicating the -twentieth. While I watched, the indicator moved, started down. I was -getting ready to duck when it stopped at the fifth. I waited; it didn't -move.</p> - -<p>I went around to the side of the bank, found the master switch. I went -back, punched for the car. When the door whooshed open, I threw the -switch.</p> - -<p>I had to work fast now. I stepped into the dark car, reached up and -slid open the access panel in the top, then jumped, caught the edge -and pulled myself up. The glare panels inside the shaft showed -me the pony power pack on top of the car, used by repairmen and -inspectors when the main power was off. I lit a per-match to read the -fine print on the panel. I was in luck. It was a through car to the -four-hundredth. I pushed a couple of buttons, and the car started up. I -lay flat behind the machinery.</p> - -<p>As the car passed the third floor feet came into view; two men stood -beyond the transparent door, guns in their hands, watching the car come -up. They didn't see me. One of them thumbed the button frantically. The -car kept going.</p> - -<p>There were men at almost every floor now. I went on up, passed the -hundredth floor, the one-fiftieth, and kept going. I began to feel -almost safe—for the moment.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I was gambling now on what little I knew of the Blue Tower from the old -days when all the biggest names congregated there. The top floor was a -lavish apartment that had been occupied by a retired fleet admiral, a -Vice-President and a uranium millionaire, in turn. If I knew anything -about Kingpins, that's where Max Arena would hang his hat.</p> - -<p>The elevator was slow. Lying there I had time to start thinking about -my burned hide. My scalp was hit worst, and then my hands; and my -shoulders were sticking to the charred coat. I had been travelling on -adrenalin since Heavy had beamed me, and now the reaction was starting -to hit.</p> - -<p>It would have to wait; I had work to do.</p> - -<p>Just below the three hundred and ninety-eighth floor I punched the -button and the car stopped. I stood up, feeling dizzy. I grabbed for -the rungs on the wall, hung on. The wall of the shaft seemed to -sway ... back....</p> - -<p>Sure, I told myself. The top of the building sways fifteen feet in a -high wind. Why shouldn't I feel it? I dismissed the thought that it was -dead calm outside now, and started up the ladder.</p> - -<p>It was a hard climb. I hung on tight, and concentrated on moving one -hand at a time. The collar of my coat rasped my raw neck. I passed up -the 398th and 9th—and rammed my head smack against a dead end. No -service entry to the penthouse. I backed down to the 399th.</p> - -<p>I found the lever and eased the door open, then waited, gun in hand. -Nothing happened. I couldn't wait any longer. I pushed the door wide, -stepped off into the hall. Still nobody in sight, but I could hear -voices. To my left a discreet stair carpeted in violet velvet eased up -in a gentle curve. I didn't hesitate; I went up.</p> - -<p>The door at the top was an austere slab of bleached teak. I tried the -polished brass lever; the door swung open silently, and I stepped -across the threshold and was looking across a plain of honey-colored -down at a man sitting relaxed in a soft chair of pale leather.</p> - -<p>He waved a hand cheerfully. "Come on in," he said.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">IV</p> - -<p>Max Arena was a broad-shouldered six-footer, with clean-shaven blue -jaws, coarse gray-flecked black hair brushed back from a high forehead, -a deeper tan than was natural for the city in November, and very white -teeth. He was showing them now in a smile. He waved a hand toward a -chair, not even glancing at the gun in my hand. I admired the twinkle -of light on the polished barrel of a Norge stunner at his elbow and -decided to ignore it too.</p> - -<p>"I been following your progress with considerable interest," Arena said -genially. "The boys had orders not to shoot. I guess Luvitch sort of -lost his head."</p> - -<p>"It's nothing," I said, "that a little skin graft won't clear up in a -year or so."</p> - -<p>"Don't feel bad. You're the first guy ever made it in here under his -own steam without an invitation."</p> - -<p>"And with a gun in his hand," I said.</p> - -<p>"We won't need guns," he said. "Not right away."</p> - -<p>I went over to one of the big soft chairs and sat down, put the gun in -my lap.</p> - -<p>"Why didn't you shoot as I came in?"</p> - -<p>Arena jiggled his foot. "I like your style," he said. "You handled -Heavy real good. He's supposed to be my toughest boy."</p> - -<p>"What about the combat car? More friends of yours?"</p> - -<p>"Nah," he said, chuckling easily. "Some Jersey boys heard I had a -caller. They figured to knock him off on general principles. A nifty." -He stopped laughing. "The Gyrob was mine; a remoted job. Nice piece of -equipment. You cost me real dough tonight."</p> - -<p>"Gee," I said. "That's tough."</p> - -<p>"And besides," he said, "I know who you are."</p> - -<p>I waited. He leaned over and picked something off the table. It was my -wallet.</p> - -<p>"I used to be in the Navy myself. Academy man, believe it or not. -Almost, anyway. Kicked out three weeks before graduation. A frame. -Well, practically a frame; there was plenty of guys doing what I was -doing."</p> - -<p>"That where you learned to talk like a hood?"</p> - -<p>For a second Arena almost didn't smile.</p> - -<p>"I am perfectly capable of expressing myself like a little gentleman, -when I feel so inclined," he said, "but I say to hell with it."</p> - -<p>"You must have been before my time," I said.</p> - -<p>"A year or two. And I was using a different name then. But that wasn't -my only hitch with the Service. When the Trouble started, I enlisted. I -wanted some action. When the Navy found out they had a qualified Power -Section man on their hands, I went up fast. Within fourteen months I -was a J. G. How about that?"</p> - -<p>"Very commendable."</p> - -<p>"So that's how I knew about the trick I. D. under the emulsion on -the snapshot. You should have ditched it, Maclamore. Or should I say -Captain Maclamore?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>My mouth opened, but I couldn't think of a snappy answer to that one. -I was in trouble. I had meant to play it by ear once I reached Arena -to get the information I needed. That was out now. He knew me. He had -topped my aces before I played them.</p> - -<p>Suddenly Arena was serious. "You came to the right man, Maclamore. -You heard I had one of your buddies here, right? I let the word leak; -I thought it might bring more of you in. I was lucky to get Admiral -Hayle's deputy."</p> - -<p>"What do you want with me?"</p> - -<p>Arena leaned forward. "There were eight of you. Hayle and his aide, -Wolfgang, were shot when they wouldn't spill to the Provisional -Government—or whatever that mob calls itself. Margan got himself -killed in some kind of tangle near Denver. The other four boys pulled a -fast one and ducked out with the scout you guys came back in. They were -riding dry tanks—the scout had maybe thirty ton/hours fuel aboard—so -they haven't left the planet. That leaves you stranded. With six sets -of Federal law looking for you. Right?"</p> - -<p>"I can't argue with what's in the newspapers," I said.</p> - -<p>"Well, I don't know. I got a couple newspapers. But here's where I -smell a deal, Maclamore. You want to know where that scout boat is. -Played right, you figure you got a good chance of a raid on an arsenal -or a power plant to pick up a few slugs of the heavy stuff; then you -high-tail out, join up with the rest of the squadron and, with the -ordnance you pack, you can sit off and dictate the next move." Arena -leaned back and took a deep breath. His eyes didn't leave me.</p> - -<p>"Okay. I got one of you here. I found out something from him. He gave -me enough I know you boys got something up your sleeve. But he don't -have the whole picture. I need more info. You can give it to me. If I -like what I hear, I'm in a position to help—like, for example, with -the fuel problem. And you cut me in for half. Fair enough?"</p> - -<p>"Who is it you've got?"</p> - -<p>He shook his head. "Uh-uh."</p> - -<p>"What did he tell you?"</p> - -<p>"Not enough. What was Hayle holding out? You birds found something out -there. What was it?"</p> - -<p>"We found a few artifacts on Mars," I said. "Not Martian in origin; -visitors. We surveyed—"</p> - -<p>"Don't string me, Maclamore. I'm willing to give you a fair deal, but -if you make it tough for me—"</p> - -<p>"How do you know I haven't got a detonator buried under my left ear," I -said. "You can't pry information out of me, Arena."</p> - -<p>"I think you want to live, Maclamore. I think you got something you -want to live for. I want a piece of it."</p> - -<p>"I can make a deal with you, Arena," I said. "Return me and my shipmate -to our scout boat. Fuel us up. You might throw in two qualified men to -help handle the ship—minus their black-jacks, preferably—then clear -out. We'll handle the rest. And I'll remember, with gratitude."</p> - -<p>Arena was silent for a long moment.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Yeah, I could do that, Maclamore," he said finally. "But I won't. Max -Arena is not a guy to pick up the crumbs—or wait around for handouts. -I want in. All the way in."</p> - -<p>"This time you'll have to settle for what you can get, Arena." I put -the gun away and stood up.</p> - -<p>I had a feeling I would have to put it over now or not at all.</p> - -<p>"The rest of the squadron is still out there. If we don't show, they'll -carry on alone. They're supplied for a century's operation. They don't -need us."</p> - -<p>That was true up to a point. The squadron had everything—except fuel.</p> - -<p>"You figure you got it made if you can get your hands on that -scout-boat," Arena said. "You figure to pick up fuel pretty easy by -knocking off say the Lackawanna Pile."</p> - -<p>"It shouldn't be too tough; a fleet boat of the Navy packs a wallop."</p> - -<p>Arena tapped his teeth with a slim paper-cutter.</p> - -<p>"You're worried your outfit will wind up Max Arena's private Navy, -right? I'll tell you something. You think I'm sitting on top of the -world, huh? I own this town, and everybody in it. All the luxury and -fancy dinners and women I can use. And you know what? I'm bored."</p> - -<p>"And you think running the Navy might be diverting?"</p> - -<p>"Call it whatever you want to. There's something big going on out -there, and I don't plan to be left out."</p> - -<p>"Arena, when I clear atmosphere, we'll talk. Take it or leave it."</p> - -<p>The smile was gone now. Arena looked at me, rubbing a finger along his -blue cheek.</p> - -<p>"Suppose I was to tell you I know where your other three boys are, -Maclamore?"</p> - -<p>"Do you?" I said.</p> - -<p>"And the boat," Arena said. "The works."</p> - -<p>"If you've got them here, I want to see them, Arena. If not, don't -waste my time."</p> - -<p>"I haven't exactly got 'em here, Maclamore. But I know a guy that knows -where they are."</p> - -<p>"Yeah." I said.</p> - -<p>Arena looked mad. "Okay, I'll give it to you, Maclamore. I got a -partner in this deal. Between us we got plenty. But we need what you -got, too."</p> - -<p>"I've made my offer, Arena. It stands."</p> - -<p>"Have I got your word on that, Maclamore?" He stood up and came over -to stand before me. "The old Academy word. You wouldn't break that, -would you Maclamore?"</p> - -<p>"I'll do what I said."</p> - -<p>Arena walked to his desk, a massive boulder of Jadeite, cleaved and -polished to a mirror surface. He thumbed a key.</p> - -<p>"Send him in here," he said.</p> - -<p>I waited. Arena sat down and looked across at me.</p> - -<p>Thirty seconds passed and then the door opened and Stenn walked in.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Stenn glanced at me. "Well," he said. "Mr. Smith."</p> - -<p>"The Smith routine is just a gag," Arena said. "His name is—Maclamore."</p> - -<p>For an instant, I thought I saw a flash of expression on Stenn's face. -He crossed the room and sat down.</p> - -<p>"Well," he said. "A very rational move, your coming here. I trust you -struck a profitable bargain?" He looked hard at me, and this time there -was expression. Hate, I would call it, offhand.</p> - -<p>"Not much of a deal at that, Stenn," Arena said. "The captain is a -tough nut to crack. He wants my help with no strings attached. I think -I'm going to buy it."</p> - -<p>"How much information has he given you?"</p> - -<p>Arena laughed. "Nothing," he said. "Max Arena going for a deal like -that. Funny, huh? But that's the way the fall-out fogs 'em."</p> - -<p>"And what have you arranged?"</p> - -<p>"I turn him loose, him and Williams. I figure you'll go along, Stenn, -and let him have the three guys you got. Williams will tell him where -the Scout boat is, so there's no percentage in your holding out."</p> - -<p>"What else?"</p> - -<p>"What else is there?" Arena spread his hands. "They pick up the boat, -fuel up—someplace—and they're off. And the captain here gives me the -old Academy word he cuts me in, once he's clear."</p> - -<p>There was a long silence. Arena smiled comfortably; Stenn sat calmly, -looking at each of us in turn. I crossed my fingers and tried to look -bored.</p> - -<p>"Very well," Stenn said. "I seem to be presented with a <i>fait -accompli</i>...."</p> - -<p>I let a long breath out. I was going to make it....</p> - -<p>"... But I would suggest that before committing yourself, you take the -precaution of searching Mr. Maclamore's person. One never knows."</p> - -<p>I could feel the look on my face. So could Arena.</p> - -<p>"So," he said. "Another nifty." He didn't seem to move, but the stunner -was in his hand. He wasn't smiling now, and the stunner caught me -easily.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">V</p> - -<p>The lights came on, and I blinked, looking around the room.</p> - -<p>My mementos didn't look like much, resting in the center of Arena's -polished half-acre of desk top. The information was stored in the -five tiny rods, less than an inch long, and the projector was a flat -polyhedron the size of a pill-box. But the information they contained -was worth more than all the treasure sunk in all the seas.</p> - -<p>"This is merely a small sample," Stenn said. "The star surveys are said -to be unbelievably complete. They represent a mapping task which would -require a thousand years."</p> - -<p>"The angles," Arena said. "Just figuring the angles will take plenty -time."</p> - -<p>"And this is what you almost let him walk out with," Stenn said.</p> - -<p>Arena gave me a slashing look.</p> - -<p>"Don't let your indignation run away with you, Arena," Stenn said. -"I don't think you remembered to mention the fuel situation to Mr. -Maclamore, did you?"</p> - -<p>Arena turned to Stenn, looming over the smaller man. "Maybe you better -button your lip," he said quietly. "I don't like the way you use it."</p> - -<p>"Afraid I'll lower you in the gentleman's esteem?" Stenn said. He -looked Arena in the eye.</p> - -<p>"Nuts to the gentleman's esteem," Arena said.</p> - -<p>"You thought you'd squeeze me out, Arena," Stenn said. "You didn't need -me any more. You intended to let Maclamore and Williams go and have -them followed. There was no danger of an escape, since you knew they'd -find no fuel."</p> - -<p>He turned to me. "During your years in space, Mr. Maclamore, technology -moved on. And politics as well. Power fuels could be used to construct -bombs. Ergo, all stations were converted for short half-life -secondaries, and the primary materials stored at Fort Knox. You would -have found yourself fuelless and therefore helpless. Mr. Arena would -have arrived soon thereafter to seize the scout-boat."</p> - -<p>"What would he want with the boat without fuel?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Arena was foresighted enough to stock up some years ago," Stenn -said. "I understand he has enough metal hoarded to power your entire -squadron for an indefinite time."</p> - -<p>"Why tell this guy that?" Arena asked. "Kick him to hell out of here -and let's get busy. You gab too much."</p> - -<p>"I see that I'm tacitly reinstated as a partner," Stenn said. "Most -gratifying."</p> - -<p>"Max Arena is no welcher," Arena said. "You tipped me to the tapes, so -you're in."</p> - -<p>"Besides which you perhaps sense that I have other valuable -contributions to make."</p> - -<p>"I figure you to pull your weight."</p> - -<p>"What are your plans for Mr. Maclamore?"</p> - -<p>"I told you. Kick him out. He'll never wise up and cooperate with us."</p> - -<p>"First, you'd better ask him a few more questions."</p> - -<p>"Why? So he'll blow his head off and mess up my rug, like...." Arena -stopped. "You won't get anything out of him."</p> - -<p>"A man of his type has a strong aversion to suicide. He won't die -to protect trivial information. And if he does—we'll know there's -something important being held out."</p> - -<p>"I don't like messy stuff," Arena said.</p> - -<p>"I'll be most careful," Stenn said. "Get me some men in here to secure -him to a chair, and we'll have a nice long chat with him."</p> - -<p>"No messy stuff," Arena repeated. He crossed to his desk, thumbed a -lever and spoke to someone outside.</p> - -<p>Stenn was standing in front of me.</p> - -<p>"Let him think he's pumping you," he hissed.</p> - -<p>"Find out where his fuel is stored. I'm on your side." Then Arena was -coming back, and Stenn was looking at me indifferently.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Arena had overcome his aversion to messy stuff sufficiently to hit me -in the mouth now and then during the past few hours. It made talking -painful, but I kept at it.</p> - -<p>"How do I know you have Williams?" I said.</p> - -<p>Arena crossed to his desk, took out a defaced snapshot.</p> - -<p>"Here's his I. D." he said. "Take a look." He tossed it over. Stenn -held it up.</p> - -<p>"Let me talk to him."</p> - -<p>"For what?"</p> - -<p>"See how he feels about it," I mumbled. I was having trouble staying -awake. I hadn't seen a bed for three days. It was hard to remember what -information I was supposed to get from Arena.</p> - -<p>"He'll join in if you do," Arena said. "Give up. Don't fight. Let it -happen."</p> - -<p>"You say you've got fuel. You're a liar. You've got no fuel."</p> - -<p>"I got plenty fuel, wise guy," Arena yelled. He was tired too.</p> - -<p>"Lousy crook," I said. "Can't even cheat a little without getting -caught at it."</p> - -<p>"Who's caught now, swabbie?" Arena was getting mad. That suited me.</p> - -<p>"You're a lousy liar, Arena. You can't hide hot metal. Even Stenn ought -to know that."</p> - -<p>"What else was in the cache, Maclamore?" Stenn asked—for the hundredth -time. He slapped me—also for the hundredth time. It jarred me and -stung. It was the last straw. If Stenn was acting, I'd help him along. -I lunged against the wires, swung a foot and caught him under the ribs. -He oofed and fell off his chair.</p> - -<p>"Don't push me any farther, you small-time chiselers," I yelled. -"You've got nothing but a cast brass gall to offer. There's no hole -deep enough to hide out power metal, even if a dumb slob like you -thought of it."</p> - -<p>"Dumb slob?" Arena barked. "You think a dumb slob could have built -the organization I did, put this town in his hip pocket? I started -stock-piling metal five years ago—a year before the ban. No hole deep -enough, huh? It don't need to be so deep when it's got two feet of lead -shielding over it."</p> - -<p>"So you smuggled a few tons of lead into the Public Library and filed -it under Little Bo Peep."</p> - -<p>"The two feet was there ahead of me, wisenheimer. Remember the -Polaris sub that used to be drydocked at Norfolk for the tourists to -rubberneck?"</p> - -<p>"Decommissioned and sold for scrap," I said. "Years ago."</p> - -<p>"But not scrapped. Rusted in a scrapyard for five years. Then I bought -her—beefed up her shielding—loaded her and sank her in ten fathoms of -water in Cartwright Bay."</p> - -<p>"That," Stenn said, "is the information we need."</p> - -<p>Arena whirled. Stenn was still sitting on the floor. He had a palm gun -in his hand, and it was pointed at the monogram on Arena's silk shirt.</p> - -<p>"A cross," Arena said. "A lousy cross...."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Move back, Arena." Stenn got to his feet, eyes on Arena.</p> - -<p>"Where'd you have the stinger stashed?"</p> - -<p>"In my hand. Stop there."</p> - -<p>Stenn moved over to me. Eyes on Arena, he reached for the twisted ends -of wire, started loosening them.</p> - -<p>"I don't want to be nosey," I said. "But just where the hell do you fit -into this, Stenn?"</p> - -<p>"Naval Intelligence," Stenn said.</p> - -<p>Arena cursed. "I knew that name should have rung a bell. Vice Admiral -Stenn. The papers said you got yours when the Navy was purged."</p> - -<p>"A few of us eluded the net."</p> - -<p>Arena heaved a sigh.</p> - -<p>"Well, fellows," he said—and jumped.</p> - -<p>Stenn's shot went wild, and Arena left-hooked him down behind the -chair. As he followed, Stenn came up fast, landed a hard left, followed -up, drove Arena back. I yanked at my wires. Almost—</p> - -<p>Then Arena, a foot taller, hammered a brutal left-right, and Stenn -sagged. Carefully Arena aimed a right cross to the jaw. Stenn dropped.</p> - -<p>Arena wiped an arm across his face.</p> - -<p>"The little man tried, Mister. Let's give him that."</p> - -<p>He walked past my chair, stooped for Stenn's gun. I heaved, slammed -against him, and the light chair collapsed as we went over. Arena -landed a kick, then I was on my feet, shaking a slat loose from the -dangling wire. Arena stepped in, threw a whistling right. I ducked it, -landed a hard punch to the midriff, another on the jaw. Arena backed, -bent over but still strong. I couldn't let him rest. I was after him, -took two in the face, ducked a haymaker that left him wide open just -long enough for me to put everything I had in an uppercut that sent him -back across his fancy desk. He sprawled, then slid onto the floor.</p> - -<p>I went to him, kicked him lightly in the ribs.</p> - -<p>"Where's Williams," I said. I kept kicking and asking. After five -tries, Arena shook his head and tried to sit up. I put a foot in his -face and he relaxed. I asked him again.</p> - -<p>"You didn't learn this kind of tactics at the Academy," Arena whined.</p> - -<p>"It's the times," I said. "They have a coarsening effect."</p> - -<p>"Williams was a fancy-pants," Arena said. "No guts. He pulled the -stopper."</p> - -<p>"Talk plainer," I said, and kicked him again, hard—but I knew what he -meant.</p> - -<p>"Blew his lousy head off," Arena yelled. "I gassed him and tried scop -on him. He blew. He was out cold, and he blew."</p> - -<p>"Yeah," I said. "Hypnotics will trigger it."</p> - -<p>"Fancy goddam wiring job," Arena muttered, wiping blood from his face.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I got the wire and trussed Arena up. I had to clip him twice before I -finished. I went through his pockets, looked at things, recovered my -souvenirs. I went over to Stenn. He was breathing.</p> - -<p>Arena was watching. "He's okay, for crissake," he said. "What kind of -punch you think I got?"</p> - -<p>I hoisted Stenn onto my shoulder.</p> - -<p>"So long, Arena," I said. "I don't know why I don't blow your brains -out. Maybe it's that Navy Cross citation in your wallet."</p> - -<p>"Listen," Arena said. "Take me with you."</p> - -<p>"A swell idea," I said. "I'll pick up a couple of tarantulas, too."</p> - -<p>"You're trying for the hack, right?"</p> - -<p>"Sure. What else?"</p> - -<p>"The roof," he said. "I got six, eight rotos on the roof. One -high-speed job. You'll never make the hack."</p> - -<p>"Why tell me?"</p> - -<p>"I got eight hundred gun boys in this building alone. They know you're -here. The hack is watched, the whole route. You can't get through."</p> - -<p>"What do you care?"</p> - -<p>"If the boys bust in here after a while and find me like this.... -They'll bury me with the wires still on, Maclamore."</p> - -<p>"How do I get to the roof?"</p> - -<p>He told me. I went to the right corner, pushed the right spot, and a -panel slid aside. I looked back at Arena.</p> - -<p>"I'll make a good sailor, Maclamore," he said.</p> - -<p>"Don't crawl, Arena," I said. I went up the short stair, came out onto -a block-square pad.</p> - -<p>Arena was right about the rotos. Eight of them. I picked the four-place -Cad, and got Stenn tied in. He was coming to, muttering. He was still -fighting Arena, he thought.</p> - -<p>"... I'll hold ... you ... get out...."</p> - -<p>"Take it easy, Stenn," I said. "Nothing can touch this bus. Where's the -boat?" I shook him. "Where's the boat, Stenn?"</p> - -<p>He came around long enough to tell me. It wasn't far—less than an -hour's run.</p> - -<p>"Stand by, Admiral," I said. "I'll be right back."</p> - -<p>"Where ... you...."</p> - -<p>"We need every good man we can get," I said. "And I think I know a guy -that wants to join the Navy."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">EPILOGUE</p> - -<p>Admiral Stenn turned away from the communicator screen.</p> - -<p>"I think we'd be justified in announcing victory now, Commodore." As -usual, he sounded like a professor of diction, but he was wearing a big -grin.</p> - -<p>"Whatever you say, chief," I said, with an even sappier smile.</p> - -<p>I made the official announcement that a provisional Congress had -accepted the resignations of all claims by former office holders, and -that new elections would be underway in a week.</p> - -<p>I switched over to Power Section. The NCO in charge threw me a snappy -highball. Damned if he wasn't grinning too.</p> - -<p>"I guess we showed 'em who's got the muscle, Commodore," he said.</p> - -<p>"Your firepower demonstration was potent, Max," I said. "You must have -stayed up nights studying the tapes."</p> - -<p>"We've hardly scratched the surface yet," he said.</p> - -<p>"I'll be crossing back to <i>Alaska</i> now, Mac," Stenn said.</p> - -<p>I watched him move across the half-mile void to the flagship. Five -minutes later the patrol detail broke away to take up surveillance -orbits. They would be getting all the shore leave for the next few -years, but I was glad my squadron had been detailed to go with the -flagship on the Deep Space patrol. I wanted to be there when we -followed those star surveys back to where their makers came from. Stenn -wasn't the man to waste time, either. He'd be getting under way any -minute. It was time to give my orders. I flipped the communicator key -to the squadron link-up.</p> - -<p>"Escort Commander to Escort," I said. "Now hear this...."</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The King of the City, by Keith Laumer - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KING OF THE CITY *** - -***** This file should be named 51781-h.htm or 51781-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/7/8/51781/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The King of the City - -Author: Keith Laumer - -Release Date: April 17, 2016 [EBook #51781] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KING OF THE CITY *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - THE KING OF THE CITY - - By KEITH LAUMER - - Illustrated by FINLAY - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Galaxy Magazine August 1961. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - He was a sort of taxi-driver, delivering - a commuter to the city. The tank traps and - armored cars were the hazards of the trade! - - -I stood in the shadows and looked across at the rundown lot with -the windblown trash packed against the wire mesh barrier fence and -the yellow glare panel that said HAUG ESCORT. There was a row of -city-scarred hacks parked on the cracked ramp. They hadn't suffered -the indignity of a wash-job for a long time. And the two-story frame -building behind them--that had once been somebody's country house--now -showed no paint except the foot-high yellow letters over the office -door. - -Inside the office a short broad man with small eyes and yesterday's -beard gnawed a cigar and looked at me. - -"Portal-to-portal escort cost you two thousand C's," he said. -"Guaranteed." - -"Guaranteed how?" I asked. - -He waved the cigar. "Guaranteed you get into the city and back out -again in one piece." He studied his cigar. "If somebody don't plug you -first," he added. - -"How about a one-way trip?" - -"My boy got to come back out, ain't he?" - -I had spent my last brass ten-dollar piece on a cup of coffee eight -hours before, but I had to get into the city. This was the only idea I -had left. - -"You've got me wrong," I said. "I'm not a customer. I want a job." - -"Yeah?" He looked at me again, with a different expression, like a guy -whose new-found girl friend has just mentioned a price. - -"You know Gra'nyauk?" - -"Sure," I said. "I grew up here." - -He asked me a few more questions, then thumbed a button centered in a -ring of grime on the wall behind him. A chair scraped beyond the door; -it opened and a tall bony fellow with thick wrists and an adams apple -set among heavy neck tendons came in. - -The man behind the desk pointed at me with his chin. - -"Throw him out, Lefty." - -Lefty gave me a resentful look, came around the desk and reached for my -collar. I leaned to the right and threw a hard left jab to the chin. He -rocked back and sat down. - -"I get the idea," I said. "I can make it out under my own power." I -turned to the door. - -"Stick around, mister. Lefty's just kind of a like a test for -separating the men from the boys." - -"You mean I'm hired?" - -He sighed. "You come at a good time. I'm short of good boys." - -I helped Lefty up, then dusted off a chair and listened to a half-hour -briefing on conditions in the city. They weren't good. Then I went -upstairs to the chart room to wait for a call. - - * * * * * - -It was almost ten o'clock when Lefty came into the room where I was -looking over the maps of the city. He jerked his head. - -"Hey, you." - -A weasel-faced man who had been blowing smoke in my face slid off his -stool, dropped his cigarette and smeared it under his shoe. - -"You," Lefty said. "The new guy." - -I belted my coat and followed him down the dark stairway, and out -across the littered tarmac, glistening wet under the polyarcs, to where -Haug stood talking to another man I hadn't seen before. - -Haug flicked a beady glance my way, then turned to the stranger. He -was a short man of about fifty with a mild expressionless face and -expensive clothes. - -"Mr. Stenn, this is Smith. He's your escort. You do like he tells you -and he'll get you into the city and see your party and back out again -in one piece." - -The customer looked at me. "Considering the fee I'm paying, I sincerely -hope so," he murmured. - -"Smith, you and Mr. Stenn take number 16 here." Haug patted a -hinge-sprung hood, painted a bilious yellow and scabbed with license -medallions issued by half a dozen competing city governments. - -Haug must have noticed something in Stenn's expression. - -"It ain't a fancy-looking hack, but she's got full armor, heavy-duty -gyros, crash-shocks, two-way music and panic gear. I ain't got a better -hack in the place." - -Stenn nodded, popped the hatch and got in. I climbed in the front and -adjusted the seat and controls to give me a little room. When I kicked -over the turbos they sounded good. - -"Better tie in, Mr. Stenn," I said. "We'll take the Canada turnpike in. -You can brief me on the way." - -I wheeled 16 around and out under the glare-sign that read "HAUG -ESCORT." In the eastbound linkway I boosted her up to 90. From the way -the old bus stepped off, she had at least a megahorse under the hood. -Maybe Haug wasn't lying, I thought. I pressed an elbow against the -power pistol strapped to my side. - -I liked the feel of it there. Maybe between it and old 16 I could get -there and back after all. - - * * * * * - -"My destination," Stenn said, "is the Manhattan section." - -That suited me perfectly. In fact, it was the first luck I'd had since -I burned the uniform. I looked in the rear viewer at Stenn's face. -He still wore no expression. He seemed like a mild little man to be -wanting into the cage with the tigers. - -"That's pretty rough territory, Mr. Stenn," I said. He didn't answer. - -"Not many tourists go there," I went on. I wanted to pry a little -information from him. - -"I'm a businessman," Stenn said. - -I let it go at that. Maybe he knew what he was doing. For me, there was -no choice. I had one slim lead, and I had to play it out to the end. I -swung through the banked curves of the intermix and onto the turnpike -and opened up to full throttle. - -It was fifteen minutes before I saw the warning red lights ahead. Haug -had told me about this. I slowed. - -"Here's our first roadblock, Mr. Stenn," I said. "This is an operator -named Joe Naples. All he's after is his toll. I'll handle him; you sit -tight in the hack. Don't say anything, don't do anything, no matter -what happens. Understand?" - -"I understand," Stenn said mildly. - -I pulled up. My lights splashed on the spikes of a Mark IX tank trap. I -set the parking jacks and got out. - -"Remember what I told you," I said. "No matter what." I walked up into -the beam of the lights. - -A voice spoke from off to the side. - -"Douse 'em, Rube." - -I went back and cut the lights. Three men sauntered out onto the -highway. - -"Keep the hands away from the sides, Rube." - -One of the men was a head taller than the others. I couldn't see his -face in the faint red light from the beacon, but I knew who he was. - -"Hello, Naples," I said. - -He came up to me. "You know me, Rube?" - -"Sure," I said. "The first thing Haug told me was pay my respects to -Mr. Naples." - -Naples laughed. "You hear that, boys? They know me pretty good on the -outside, ha?" - - * * * * * - -He looked at me, not laughing any more. "I don't see you before." - -"My first trip." - -He jerked a thumb at the hack. "Who's your trick?" - -"A businessman. Name is Stenn." - -"Yeah? What kind business?" - -I shook my head. "We don't quiz the cash customers, Joe." - -"Let's take a look." Naples moved off toward the hack, the boys at -his side. I followed. Naples looked in at Stenn. Stenn sat relaxed -and looked straight ahead. Naples turned away, nodded to one of his -helpers. The two moved off a few yards. - -The other man, a short bullet-headed thug in a grease-spatted overcoat, -stood by the hack, staring in at Stenn. He took a heavy old-style -automatic from his coat pocket, pulled open the door. He aimed the gun -at Stenn's head and carefully squeezed the trigger. - -The hammer clicked emptily. - -"Ping," he said. He thrust the gun back in his pocket, kicked the door -shut and went over to join Naples. - -"Okay, Rube," Naples called. - -I went over to him. - -"I guess maybe you on the level," he said. "Standard fee. Five hundred, -Old Federal notes." - -I had to be careful now. I held a bland expression, reached -in--slowly--took out my wallet. I extracted two hundred-C notes and -held them out. - -Naples looked at them, unmoving. The thug in the dirty overcoat moved -up close, and suddenly swung the edge of his palm at my wrist. I was -ready; I flicked my hand aside and chopped him hard at the base of the -neck. He dropped. - -I was still holding out the money. - -"That clown isn't worthy of a place in the Naples organization," I said. - -Naples looked down at the man, stirred him with his foot. - -"A clown," he said. He took the money and tucked it in his shirt pocket. - -"Okay, Rube," he said. "My regards to Haug." - -I got in the hack and moved up to the barrier. It started up, trundled -aside. Naples was bending over the man I had downed. He took the pistol -from the pocket of the overcoat, jacked the action and aimed. There was -a sharp crack. The overcoat flopped once. Naples smiled over at me. - -"He ain't worthy a place in the Naples organization," he said. - -I waved a hand vaguely and gunned off down the road. - - -II - -The speaker in my ear hummed. - -I grunted an acknowledgement and a blurred voice said, "Smith, listen. -When you cross the South Radial, pick up the Midwest Feed-off. Take it -easy and watch for Number Nine Station. Pull off there. Got it?" - -I recognized the voice. It was Lefty, Haug's Number One boy. I didn't -answer. - -"What was the call?" Stenn asked. - -"I don't know," I said. "Nothing." - -The lights of the South Radial Intermix were in sight ahead now. - -I slowed to a hundred and thought about it. My personal motives told -me to keep going, my job as a paid Escort was to get my man where he -wanted to go. That was tough enough, without detours. I eased back up -to one-fifty, took the Intermix with gyros screaming, and curved out -onto the thruway. - -The speaker hummed. "What are you trying to pull, wise guy?" He sounded -mad. "That was the South Radial you just passed up--" - -"Yeah," I said. "That's right. Smitty takes 'em there and he brings 'em -back. Don't call us, we'll call you." - -There was a long hum from the speaker. "Oh, a wiseacre," it said -finally. "Listen, rookie, you got a lot to learn. This guy is -bankrolled. I seen the wad when he paid Haug off. So all right, we cut -you in. Now, get this...." - -He gave me detailed instructions. When he was finished, I said, "Don't -wait up for me." - -I took the speaker out of my ear and dropped it into the disposal slot. -We drove along quietly for quite a while. - -I was beginning to recognize my surroundings. This section of the -turnpike had been opened the year before I left home. Except for the -lack of traffic and the dark windows along the way it hadn't changed. - -I was wondering just what Lefty's next move would be when a pair of -powerful beams came on from the left, then pulled onto the highway, -speeding up to pace me. I rocketed past before he had made full speed. -I heard a loud spang, and glass chips scattered on my shoulder. I -twisted and looked. A starred hole showed in the bubble, above the rear -seat. - - * * * * * - -"Duck!" I yelled. Stenn leaned over, put his head down. - -The beams were gaining on me. I twisted the rear viewer, hit the I/R -switch. A three-ton combat car, stripped, but still mounting twin -infinite repeaters. Against that, old 16 was a kiddie car. I held my -speed and tried to generate an idea. What I came up with wasn't good, -but it was all I had. - -A half a mile ahead there should be a level-split, one of those awkward -ones that caused more than one pile-up in the first few months the -turnpike was open. Maybe my playmates didn't know about it. - -They were about to overtake me now. I slowed just a little, and started -fading to the right. They followed me, crowding my rear wheel. I heard -the spang again, twice, but nothing hit me. I was on the paved shoulder -now, and could barely see the faded yellow cross-hatching that warned -of the abutment that divided the pavement ahead. - -I held the hack in the yellow until the last instant, then veered right -and cleared the concrete barrier by a foot, hit the down-curve at a -hundred and eighty in a howl of gyros and brakes--and the thunderous -impact of the combat car. - -Then I was off the pavement, fighting the wheel, slamming through -underbrush, then miraculously back on the hard surface and coasting to -a stop in the clear. - -I took a deep breath and looked back. The burning remains of the car -were scattered for a quarter of a mile along the turnpike. That would -have been me if I had gauged it wrong. - -I looked at the canopy of the hack. Three holes, not a foot apart, -right where a passenger's head would be if he were sitting upright. -Stenn was unconcernedly brushing glass dust from his jacket. - -"Very neat, Mr. Smith," he said. "Now shall we resume our journey?" - -"Maybe it's time you leveled with me, Stenn," I said. - -He raised his eyebrows at me slightly. - -"When Joe Naples' boy Friday pointed the gun at your head you didn't -bat an eyelash," I said. - -"I believe those were your instructions," Stenn said mildly. - -"Pretty good for a simple businessman. I don't see you showing any -signs of the shakes now, either, after what some might call a harrowing -experience." - -"I have every confidence in your handling--" - -"Nuts, Stenn. Those three holes are pretty well grouped, wouldn't you -say? The man that put them there was hitting where he was aiming. And -he was aiming for you." - -"Why me?" Stenn looked almost amused. - -"I thought it was a little shakedown crew, out to teach me a lesson," I -said. "Until I saw where the shots were going." - -Stenn looked at me thoughtfully. He reached up and took a micro-speaker -from his ear. - -"The twin to the one you rashly disposed of," he said. "Mr. Haug was -kind enough to supply it--for a fee. I must tell you that I had a gun -in my hand as we approached the South Radial Intermix. Had you accepted -the invitation to turn off, I would have halted the car, shot you and -gone on alone. Happily, you chose to resist the temptation, for reasons -of your own...." He looked at me inquiringly. - -"Maybe I'm sap enough to take the job seriously," I said. - -"That may possibly be true," Stenn said. - -"What's your real errand here, Stenn? Frankly, I don't have time to get -involved." - -"Really? One wonders if you have irons in the fire, Smith. But never -mind. I shan't pry. Are we going on?" - -I gave him my stern penetrating look. - -"Yeah," I said. "We're going on." - - * * * * * - -In twenty minutes, we were on the Inner Concourse and the polyarcs were -close together, lighting the empty sweep of banked pavement. The lights -of the city sparkled across the sky ahead, and gave me a ghostly touch -of the old thrill of coming home. - -I doused that feeling fast. After eight years there was nothing left -there for me to come home to. The city had a lethal welcome for -intruders; it wouldn't be smart to forget that. - -I didn't see the T-Bird until his spot hit my eyes and he was beside -me, crowding. - -I veered and hit the brakes, with a half-baked idea of dropping back -and cutting behind him, but he stayed with me. I had a fast impression -of squealing metal and rubber, and then I was skidding to a stop up -against the deflector rails with the T-Bird slanted across my prow. Its -lid popped almost before the screech died away, and I was looking down -the muzzles of two power pistols. I kept both hands on the wheel, where -they could see them, and sat tight. - -I wondered whose friends we had met this time. - -Two men climbed out, the pistols in sight, and came up to the hack. -The first one was a heavy-set Slavic type zipped into a tight G. I. -weather suit. He motioned. I opened up and got out, not making any -sudden movements. Stenn followed. A cold wind was whipping along -the concourse, blowing a fine misty rain hard against my cheek. The -polyarcs cast black shadows on gray faces. - -The smaller man moved over to Stenn and crowded him back against the -hack. The Slav motioned again, and I moved over by the T-Bird. He -fished my wallet out and put it in his pocket without looking at it. -I heard the other man say something to Stenn, and then the sound of a -blow. I turned my head slowly, so as not to excite my watchdog. Stenn -was picking himself up. He started going through his pockets, showing -everything to the man with the gun, then dropping it on the ground. The -wind blew cards and papers along until they soaked up enough water to -stick. Stenn carried a lot of paper. - - * * * * * - -The gunny said something and Stenn started pulling off his coat. He -turned it inside out, and held it out. The gunny shook his head, and -motioned to my Slav. He looked at me, and I tried to read his mind. -I moved across toward the hack. I must have guessed right because -he didn't shoot me. The Slav pocketed his gun and took the coat. -Methodically, he tore the lining out, found nothing, dropped the ripped -garment and kicked it aside. I shifted position, and the Slav turned -and backhanded me up against the hack. - -"Lay off him, Heavy," the other hood said. "Maxy didn't say nothing -about this mug. He's just a Escort." - -Heavy started to get his gun out again. I had an idea he was thinking -about using it. Maybe that's why I did what I did. As his hand dipped -into his pocket, I lunged, wrapped an arm around him and yanked out my -own artillery. I held onto a handful of the weather suit and dug the -pistol in hard. He stood frozen. Heavy wasn't as dumb as he looked. - -His partner had backed a step, the pistol in his hand covering all of -us. - -"Drop it, Slim," I said. "No hard feelings, and we'll be on our way." - -Stenn stood absolutely motionless. He was still wearing his mild -expression. - -"Not a chance, mug," the gunny said softly. No one moved. - -"Even if you're ready to gun your way through your pal, I can't miss. -Better settle for a draw." - -"Maxy don't like draws, mister." - -"Stenn," I said. "Get in the T-Bird. Head back the way we came, and -don't slow down to read any billboards." - -Stenn didn't move. - - * * * * * - -"Get going," I said. "Slim won't shoot." - -"I employed you," Stenn said, "to take care of the heroics." - -"If you've got any better ideas it's time to speak up, Stenn. This is -your only out, the way I see it." - -Stenn looked at the man with the gun. - -"You referred to someone named 'Maxy.' Would that by any chance be Mr. -Max Arena?" - -Slim looked at him and thought about it. - -"Could be," he said. - -Stenn came slowly over to the Slav. Standing well out of the line of -fire, he carefully put a hand in the loose pocket of the weather suit -and brought out the pistol. I saw Slim's eyes tighten. He was having to -make some tough decisions in a hurry. - -Stenn moved offside, pistol in hand. - -"Move away from him, Smith," he said. - -I didn't know what he had in mind, but it didn't seem like the time to -argue. I moved back. - -"Drop your gun," he said. - -I risked a glance at his mild expression. - -"Are you nuts?" - -"I came here to see Mr. Arena," he said. "This seems an excellent -opportunity." - -"Does it? I--" - -"Drop it now, Smith. I won't warn you again." - -I dropped it. - -Slim swiveled on Stenn. He was still in an awkward spot. - -"I want you to take me to Mr. Arena," Stenn said. "I have a proposition -to put before him." He lowered the gun and handed it to Heavy. - -It seemed like a long time until Slim lowered his gun. - -"Heavy, put him in the back seat." He motioned me ahead, watched me as -he climbed in the T-Bird. - -"Nice friends you got, mug," he said. The T-Bird started up, backed, -and roared off toward the city. I stood under the polyarcs and watched -the tail glare out of sight. - -Max Arena was the man I had come to the city to find. - - -III - -Old number 16 was canted against the deflector rail, one side shredded -into curled strips of crumpled metal. I looked closer. Under the flimsy -fairings, gray armor showed. Maybe there was more to Haug's best hack -than met the eye. I climbed in and kicked over the starter. The turbos -sounded as good as ever. I eased the gyros in; she backed off the rail -with a screech of ripped metal. - -I had lost my customer, but I still had wheels. - -The smart thing to do now would be to head back out the turnpike to -Haug's lot, turn in my badge and keep moving, south. I could give up -while I was still alive. All I had to do was accept the situation. - -I had a wide choice. I could sign on with the New Confeds, or the Free -Texans, or any one of the other splinter republics trying to set up -shop in the power vacuum. I might try to get in to one of the Enclaves -and convince its Baron he needed another trained bodyguard. Or I could -take a post with one of the king-pins in the city. - -As a last resort I could go back and find a spot in the Naples -organization. I happened to know they had a vacancy. - -I was just running through mental exercises to hear myself think. -I couldn't settle for the kind of world I had found when I touched -planet three months back, after eight years in deep space with Hayle's -squadron. When the Interim Administration shot him for treason, I -burned my uniform and disappeared. My years in the Service had given me -a tough hide and a knack for staying alive; my worldly assets consisted -of the clothes I stood in, my service pistol and a few souvenirs of my -travels. For two months I had been scraping along on the cash I had -in my pocket, buying drinks for drifters in cheap bars, looking for a -hint, any lead at all, that would give me a chance to do what had to be -done. Max Arena was the lead. Maybe a dud lead--but I had to find out. - -The city lights loomed just a few miles away. I was wasting time -sitting here; I steered the hack out into the highway and headed for -them. - - * * * * * - -Apparently Lefty's influence didn't extend far beyond the South Radial. -The two roadblocks I passed in the next five miles took my money, -accepted my story that I was on my way to pick up a fare, said to say -hello to Haug and passed me on my way. - -Haug's sour yellow color scheme seemed to carry some weight with the -town Organizations, too. I was well into the city, cruising along -the third level Crossover, before I had any trouble. I was doing -about fifty, watching where I was going and looking for the Manhattan -Intermix, when a battered Gyrob four-seater trundled out across the -fairway and stopped. I swerved and jumped lanes; the Gyrob backed, -blocking me. I kicked my safety frame down and floor-boarded the hack, -steering straight for him. At the last instant he tried to pull out of -the way. - -He was too late. - -I clipped him across his aft quarter, and caught a glimpse of the -underside of the car as it stood on its nose, slammed through the -deflector and over the side. Old 16 bucked and I got a good crack -across the jaw from the ill-fitting frame, and then I was screeching -through the Intermix and out onto the Manhattan Third level. - -Up ahead, the glare panels at the top of the Blue Tower reared up -half a mile into the wet night sky. It wasn't a hard address to find. -Getting inside would be another matter. - -I pulled up a hundred yards from the dark cave they used to call -the limousine entrance and looked the situation over. The level was -deserted--like the whole city seemed, from the street. But there were -lights in the windows, level after level of them stretching up and away -as far as you could see. There were plenty of people in the city--about -ten million, even after the riots and the Food Scare and the collapse -of legal government. The automated city supply system had gone on -working, and the Kingpins, the big time criminals, had stepped in and -set things up to suit their tastes. Life went on--but not out in the -open. Not after dark. - -I knew almost nothing about Arena. Judging from his employees, he -was Kingpin of a prosperous outfit. The T-Bird was an expensive -late model, and the two thugs handled themselves like high-priced -talent. I couldn't expect to walk into his HQ without jumping a few -hurdles. Maybe I should have invited myself along with Stenn and his -new friends. On the other hand, there were advantages to arriving -unannounced. - -It was a temptation to drive in, with the hack's armor between me and -any little surprises that might be waiting, but I liked the idea of -staging a surprise of my own. I eased into drive and moved along to a -parking ramp, swung around and down and stopped in the shadow of the -retaining wall. - -I set the brake and took a good look around. There was nothing in -sight. Arena might have a power cannon trained on me from his bedroom -window, for all I knew, but I had to get a toe into the water sometime. -I shut down the turbo, and in the silence popped the lid and stepped -out. The rain had stopped, and the moon showed as a bright spot on the -high mist. I felt hungry and a little bit unreal, as though this were -happening to somebody else. - - * * * * * - -I moved over to the side of the parking slab, clambered over the -deflector rail and studied the shadows under the third level roadway. -I could barely make out the catwalks and service ways. I was wondering -whether to pull off my hard-soled shoes for the climb when I heard -footsteps, close. I gauged the distance to the hack, and saw I -couldn't make it. I got back over the rail and waited. - -He came into sight, rangy, shock-haired and preternaturally thin in -tight traditional dress. - -When he got close I saw that he was young, in his early twenties at -most. He would be carrying a knife. - -"Hey, Mister," he whined. "Got a cigarette?" - -"Sure, young fellow," I said, sounding a little nervous. I threw in a -shaky laugh to help build the picture. I took a cigarette from a pack, -put the pack back in my pocket, held the weed out. He strutted up to -me, reached out and flipped the cigarette from my fingers. I edged back -and used the laugh again. - -"Hey, he liked that," the punk whined. "He thinks that's funny. He got -a sense of humor." - -"Heh, heh," I said. "Just out getting a little air." - -"Gimme another cigarette, funny man." - -I took the pack out, watching. I got out a cigarette and held it -gingerly, arm bent. As he reached for it, I drew back. He snatched for -it. That put him in position. - -I dropped the pack, clenched my two hands together, ducked down and -brought them up hard under his chin. He backflipped, rolled over and -started crawling. - -I let him go. - -I went over the rail without stopping to think it over and crossed the -girder to the catwalk that ran under the boulevard above. I groped my -way along to where the service way branched off for the Blue Tower, -then stopped and looked up. A strip of luminous sky showed between the -third level and the facade of the building. Anybody watching from the -right spot would see me cross, walking on the narrow footway. It was a -chance I'd have to take. I started to move out, and heard running feet. -I froze. - -The feet slid to a stop on the level above, a few yards away. - -"What's up, Crackers?" somebody growled. - -"The mark sapped me down." - - * * * * * - -That was interesting. I had been spotted and the punk had been sent to -welcome me. Now I knew where I stood. The opposition had made their -first mistake. - -"He was starting to cross under when I spot him," Crackers went on, -breathing heavily. "He saps me and I see I can't handle him and I go -for help." - -Someone answered in a guttural whisper. Crackers lowered his voice. It -wouldn't take long now for reinforcements to arrive and flush me out. -I edged farther and chanced a look. I saw two heads outlined above. -They didn't seem to be looking my way, so I started across, walking -silently toward a narrow loading platform with a wide door opening from -it. - -Below me, a lone light reflected from the wet pavement of the second -level, fifty feet down; the blank wall of the Blue Tower dropped past -it sheer to the glistening gutters at ground level. Then I was on the -platform and trying the door. - -It didn't open. - -It was what I should have expected. Standing in the full light from the -glare panel above the entry, I felt as exposed as a fan-dancer's navel. -There was no time to consider alternatives. I grabbed my power pistol, -flipped it to beam fire and stood aside with an arm across my face. I -gave the latch a blast, then kicked the door hard. It was solid as a -rock. Behind and above me, I heard Crackers yell. - -I beamed the lock again, tiny droplets of molten metal spattering like -needles against my face and hand. The door held. - -"Drop it and lift 'em, mug," a deep voice yelled. I twisted to look up -at the silhouettes against the deflector rail. I recognized the Slavic -face of the man called Heavy. So he could talk after all. - -"You're under my iron, mug," he called. "Freeze or I'll burn you." - -I believed him, but I had set something in motion that couldn't stop -now. There was nothing to go back to; the only direction for me was on -the way I was headed--deeper into trouble. I was tired of being the -mouse in a cat's game. I had taken the initiative and I was keeping it. - -I turned, set the power pistol at full aperture, and poured it to the -armored door. Searing heat reflected from the barrier, smoke boiled, -metal melted and ran. Through the stink of burning steel, I smelled -scorched hair--and felt heat rake the back of my neck and hands. Heavy -was beaming me at wide aperture, but the range was just too far for a -fast kill. The door sagged and fell in. I jumped through the glowing -opening, hit the floor and rolled to damp out my smouldering coat. - - * * * * * - -I got to my feet. There was no time now to stop and feel the pain of -my burns. They would expect me to go up--so I would go down. The Blue -Tower covered four city blocks and was four hundred stories high. There -was plenty of room in it for a man to lose himself. - -I ran along the corridor, found a continuous service belt and hopped -on, lay flat, rode it through the slot. I came out into the light of -the service corridor below, my gun ready, then down and around again. -I saw no one. - -It took ten minutes to cover the eighteen floors down to the -sub-basement. I rolled off the belt and looked around. - -The whole space was packed with automatics; the Blue Tower was a -self-sufficient city in itself. I recognized generators, heat pumps, -air plants. None of them were operating. The city services were all -still functioning, apparently. What it would be like in another ten or -twenty years of anarchy was anybody's guess. But when the city systems -failed the Blue Tower could go on on its own. - -Glare panels lit the aisles dimly. I prowled along looking for -an elevator bank. The first one I found indicated the car at the -hundred-eightieth floor. I went on, found another indicating the -twentieth. While I watched, the indicator moved, started down. I was -getting ready to duck when it stopped at the fifth. I waited; it didn't -move. - -I went around to the side of the bank, found the master switch. I went -back, punched for the car. When the door whooshed open, I threw the -switch. - -I had to work fast now. I stepped into the dark car, reached up and -slid open the access panel in the top, then jumped, caught the edge -and pulled myself up. The glare panels inside the shaft showed -me the pony power pack on top of the car, used by repairmen and -inspectors when the main power was off. I lit a per-match to read the -fine print on the panel. I was in luck. It was a through car to the -four-hundredth. I pushed a couple of buttons, and the car started up. I -lay flat behind the machinery. - -As the car passed the third floor feet came into view; two men stood -beyond the transparent door, guns in their hands, watching the car come -up. They didn't see me. One of them thumbed the button frantically. The -car kept going. - -There were men at almost every floor now. I went on up, passed the -hundredth floor, the one-fiftieth, and kept going. I began to feel -almost safe--for the moment. - - * * * * * - -I was gambling now on what little I knew of the Blue Tower from the old -days when all the biggest names congregated there. The top floor was a -lavish apartment that had been occupied by a retired fleet admiral, a -Vice-President and a uranium millionaire, in turn. If I knew anything -about Kingpins, that's where Max Arena would hang his hat. - -The elevator was slow. Lying there I had time to start thinking about -my burned hide. My scalp was hit worst, and then my hands; and my -shoulders were sticking to the charred coat. I had been travelling on -adrenalin since Heavy had beamed me, and now the reaction was starting -to hit. - -It would have to wait; I had work to do. - -Just below the three hundred and ninety-eighth floor I punched the -button and the car stopped. I stood up, feeling dizzy. I grabbed for -the rungs on the wall, hung on. The wall of the shaft seemed to -sway ... back.... - -Sure, I told myself. The top of the building sways fifteen feet in a -high wind. Why shouldn't I feel it? I dismissed the thought that it was -dead calm outside now, and started up the ladder. - -It was a hard climb. I hung on tight, and concentrated on moving one -hand at a time. The collar of my coat rasped my raw neck. I passed up -the 398th and 9th--and rammed my head smack against a dead end. No -service entry to the penthouse. I backed down to the 399th. - -I found the lever and eased the door open, then waited, gun in hand. -Nothing happened. I couldn't wait any longer. I pushed the door wide, -stepped off into the hall. Still nobody in sight, but I could hear -voices. To my left a discreet stair carpeted in violet velvet eased up -in a gentle curve. I didn't hesitate; I went up. - -The door at the top was an austere slab of bleached teak. I tried the -polished brass lever; the door swung open silently, and I stepped -across the threshold and was looking across a plain of honey-colored -down at a man sitting relaxed in a soft chair of pale leather. - -He waved a hand cheerfully. "Come on in," he said. - - -IV - -Max Arena was a broad-shouldered six-footer, with clean-shaven blue -jaws, coarse gray-flecked black hair brushed back from a high forehead, -a deeper tan than was natural for the city in November, and very white -teeth. He was showing them now in a smile. He waved a hand toward a -chair, not even glancing at the gun in my hand. I admired the twinkle -of light on the polished barrel of a Norge stunner at his elbow and -decided to ignore it too. - -"I been following your progress with considerable interest," Arena said -genially. "The boys had orders not to shoot. I guess Luvitch sort of -lost his head." - -"It's nothing," I said, "that a little skin graft won't clear up in a -year or so." - -"Don't feel bad. You're the first guy ever made it in here under his -own steam without an invitation." - -"And with a gun in his hand," I said. - -"We won't need guns," he said. "Not right away." - -I went over to one of the big soft chairs and sat down, put the gun in -my lap. - -"Why didn't you shoot as I came in?" - -Arena jiggled his foot. "I like your style," he said. "You handled -Heavy real good. He's supposed to be my toughest boy." - -"What about the combat car? More friends of yours?" - -"Nah," he said, chuckling easily. "Some Jersey boys heard I had a -caller. They figured to knock him off on general principles. A nifty." -He stopped laughing. "The Gyrob was mine; a remoted job. Nice piece of -equipment. You cost me real dough tonight." - -"Gee," I said. "That's tough." - -"And besides," he said, "I know who you are." - -I waited. He leaned over and picked something off the table. It was my -wallet. - -"I used to be in the Navy myself. Academy man, believe it or not. -Almost, anyway. Kicked out three weeks before graduation. A frame. -Well, practically a frame; there was plenty of guys doing what I was -doing." - -"That where you learned to talk like a hood?" - -For a second Arena almost didn't smile. - -"I am perfectly capable of expressing myself like a little gentleman, -when I feel so inclined," he said, "but I say to hell with it." - -"You must have been before my time," I said. - -"A year or two. And I was using a different name then. But that wasn't -my only hitch with the Service. When the Trouble started, I enlisted. I -wanted some action. When the Navy found out they had a qualified Power -Section man on their hands, I went up fast. Within fourteen months I -was a J. G. How about that?" - -"Very commendable." - -"So that's how I knew about the trick I. D. under the emulsion on -the snapshot. You should have ditched it, Maclamore. Or should I say -Captain Maclamore?" - - * * * * * - -My mouth opened, but I couldn't think of a snappy answer to that one. -I was in trouble. I had meant to play it by ear once I reached Arena -to get the information I needed. That was out now. He knew me. He had -topped my aces before I played them. - -Suddenly Arena was serious. "You came to the right man, Maclamore. -You heard I had one of your buddies here, right? I let the word leak; -I thought it might bring more of you in. I was lucky to get Admiral -Hayle's deputy." - -"What do you want with me?" - -Arena leaned forward. "There were eight of you. Hayle and his aide, -Wolfgang, were shot when they wouldn't spill to the Provisional -Government--or whatever that mob calls itself. Margan got himself -killed in some kind of tangle near Denver. The other four boys pulled a -fast one and ducked out with the scout you guys came back in. They were -riding dry tanks--the scout had maybe thirty ton/hours fuel aboard--so -they haven't left the planet. That leaves you stranded. With six sets -of Federal law looking for you. Right?" - -"I can't argue with what's in the newspapers," I said. - -"Well, I don't know. I got a couple newspapers. But here's where I -smell a deal, Maclamore. You want to know where that scout boat is. -Played right, you figure you got a good chance of a raid on an arsenal -or a power plant to pick up a few slugs of the heavy stuff; then you -high-tail out, join up with the rest of the squadron and, with the -ordnance you pack, you can sit off and dictate the next move." Arena -leaned back and took a deep breath. His eyes didn't leave me. - -"Okay. I got one of you here. I found out something from him. He gave -me enough I know you boys got something up your sleeve. But he don't -have the whole picture. I need more info. You can give it to me. If I -like what I hear, I'm in a position to help--like, for example, with -the fuel problem. And you cut me in for half. Fair enough?" - -"Who is it you've got?" - -He shook his head. "Uh-uh." - -"What did he tell you?" - -"Not enough. What was Hayle holding out? You birds found something out -there. What was it?" - -"We found a few artifacts on Mars," I said. "Not Martian in origin; -visitors. We surveyed--" - -"Don't string me, Maclamore. I'm willing to give you a fair deal, but -if you make it tough for me--" - -"How do you know I haven't got a detonator buried under my left ear," I -said. "You can't pry information out of me, Arena." - -"I think you want to live, Maclamore. I think you got something you -want to live for. I want a piece of it." - -"I can make a deal with you, Arena," I said. "Return me and my shipmate -to our scout boat. Fuel us up. You might throw in two qualified men to -help handle the ship--minus their black-jacks, preferably--then clear -out. We'll handle the rest. And I'll remember, with gratitude." - -Arena was silent for a long moment. - - * * * * * - -"Yeah, I could do that, Maclamore," he said finally. "But I won't. Max -Arena is not a guy to pick up the crumbs--or wait around for handouts. -I want in. All the way in." - -"This time you'll have to settle for what you can get, Arena." I put -the gun away and stood up. - -I had a feeling I would have to put it over now or not at all. - -"The rest of the squadron is still out there. If we don't show, they'll -carry on alone. They're supplied for a century's operation. They don't -need us." - -That was true up to a point. The squadron had everything--except fuel. - -"You figure you got it made if you can get your hands on that -scout-boat," Arena said. "You figure to pick up fuel pretty easy by -knocking off say the Lackawanna Pile." - -"It shouldn't be too tough; a fleet boat of the Navy packs a wallop." - -Arena tapped his teeth with a slim paper-cutter. - -"You're worried your outfit will wind up Max Arena's private Navy, -right? I'll tell you something. You think I'm sitting on top of the -world, huh? I own this town, and everybody in it. All the luxury and -fancy dinners and women I can use. And you know what? I'm bored." - -"And you think running the Navy might be diverting?" - -"Call it whatever you want to. There's something big going on out -there, and I don't plan to be left out." - -"Arena, when I clear atmosphere, we'll talk. Take it or leave it." - -The smile was gone now. Arena looked at me, rubbing a finger along his -blue cheek. - -"Suppose I was to tell you I know where your other three boys are, -Maclamore?" - -"Do you?" I said. - -"And the boat," Arena said. "The works." - -"If you've got them here, I want to see them, Arena. If not, don't -waste my time." - -"I haven't exactly got 'em here, Maclamore. But I know a guy that knows -where they are." - -"Yeah." I said. - -Arena looked mad. "Okay, I'll give it to you, Maclamore. I got a -partner in this deal. Between us we got plenty. But we need what you -got, too." - -"I've made my offer, Arena. It stands." - -"Have I got your word on that, Maclamore?" He stood up and came over -to stand before me. "The old Academy word. You wouldn't break that, -would you Maclamore?" - -"I'll do what I said." - -Arena walked to his desk, a massive boulder of Jadeite, cleaved and -polished to a mirror surface. He thumbed a key. - -"Send him in here," he said. - -I waited. Arena sat down and looked across at me. - -Thirty seconds passed and then the door opened and Stenn walked in. - - * * * * * - -Stenn glanced at me. "Well," he said. "Mr. Smith." - -"The Smith routine is just a gag," Arena said. "His name is--Maclamore." - -For an instant, I thought I saw a flash of expression on Stenn's face. -He crossed the room and sat down. - -"Well," he said. "A very rational move, your coming here. I trust you -struck a profitable bargain?" He looked hard at me, and this time there -was expression. Hate, I would call it, offhand. - -"Not much of a deal at that, Stenn," Arena said. "The captain is a -tough nut to crack. He wants my help with no strings attached. I think -I'm going to buy it." - -"How much information has he given you?" - -Arena laughed. "Nothing," he said. "Max Arena going for a deal like -that. Funny, huh? But that's the way the fall-out fogs 'em." - -"And what have you arranged?" - -"I turn him loose, him and Williams. I figure you'll go along, Stenn, -and let him have the three guys you got. Williams will tell him where -the Scout boat is, so there's no percentage in your holding out." - -"What else?" - -"What else is there?" Arena spread his hands. "They pick up the boat, -fuel up--someplace--and they're off. And the captain here gives me the -old Academy word he cuts me in, once he's clear." - -There was a long silence. Arena smiled comfortably; Stenn sat calmly, -looking at each of us in turn. I crossed my fingers and tried to look -bored. - -"Very well," Stenn said. "I seem to be presented with a _fait -accompli_...." - -I let a long breath out. I was going to make it.... - -"... But I would suggest that before committing yourself, you take the -precaution of searching Mr. Maclamore's person. One never knows." - -I could feel the look on my face. So could Arena. - -"So," he said. "Another nifty." He didn't seem to move, but the stunner -was in his hand. He wasn't smiling now, and the stunner caught me -easily. - - -V - -The lights came on, and I blinked, looking around the room. - -My mementos didn't look like much, resting in the center of Arena's -polished half-acre of desk top. The information was stored in the -five tiny rods, less than an inch long, and the projector was a flat -polyhedron the size of a pill-box. But the information they contained -was worth more than all the treasure sunk in all the seas. - -"This is merely a small sample," Stenn said. "The star surveys are said -to be unbelievably complete. They represent a mapping task which would -require a thousand years." - -"The angles," Arena said. "Just figuring the angles will take plenty -time." - -"And this is what you almost let him walk out with," Stenn said. - -Arena gave me a slashing look. - -"Don't let your indignation run away with you, Arena," Stenn said. -"I don't think you remembered to mention the fuel situation to Mr. -Maclamore, did you?" - -Arena turned to Stenn, looming over the smaller man. "Maybe you better -button your lip," he said quietly. "I don't like the way you use it." - -"Afraid I'll lower you in the gentleman's esteem?" Stenn said. He -looked Arena in the eye. - -"Nuts to the gentleman's esteem," Arena said. - -"You thought you'd squeeze me out, Arena," Stenn said. "You didn't need -me any more. You intended to let Maclamore and Williams go and have -them followed. There was no danger of an escape, since you knew they'd -find no fuel." - -He turned to me. "During your years in space, Mr. Maclamore, technology -moved on. And politics as well. Power fuels could be used to construct -bombs. Ergo, all stations were converted for short half-life -secondaries, and the primary materials stored at Fort Knox. You would -have found yourself fuelless and therefore helpless. Mr. Arena would -have arrived soon thereafter to seize the scout-boat." - -"What would he want with the boat without fuel?" I asked. - -"Mr. Arena was foresighted enough to stock up some years ago," Stenn -said. "I understand he has enough metal hoarded to power your entire -squadron for an indefinite time." - -"Why tell this guy that?" Arena asked. "Kick him to hell out of here -and let's get busy. You gab too much." - -"I see that I'm tacitly reinstated as a partner," Stenn said. "Most -gratifying." - -"Max Arena is no welcher," Arena said. "You tipped me to the tapes, so -you're in." - -"Besides which you perhaps sense that I have other valuable -contributions to make." - -"I figure you to pull your weight." - -"What are your plans for Mr. Maclamore?" - -"I told you. Kick him out. He'll never wise up and cooperate with us." - -"First, you'd better ask him a few more questions." - -"Why? So he'll blow his head off and mess up my rug, like...." Arena -stopped. "You won't get anything out of him." - -"A man of his type has a strong aversion to suicide. He won't die -to protect trivial information. And if he does--we'll know there's -something important being held out." - -"I don't like messy stuff," Arena said. - -"I'll be most careful," Stenn said. "Get me some men in here to secure -him to a chair, and we'll have a nice long chat with him." - -"No messy stuff," Arena repeated. He crossed to his desk, thumbed a -lever and spoke to someone outside. - -Stenn was standing in front of me. - -"Let him think he's pumping you," he hissed. - -"Find out where his fuel is stored. I'm on your side." Then Arena was -coming back, and Stenn was looking at me indifferently. - - * * * * * - -Arena had overcome his aversion to messy stuff sufficiently to hit me -in the mouth now and then during the past few hours. It made talking -painful, but I kept at it. - -"How do I know you have Williams?" I said. - -Arena crossed to his desk, took out a defaced snapshot. - -"Here's his I. D." he said. "Take a look." He tossed it over. Stenn -held it up. - -"Let me talk to him." - -"For what?" - -"See how he feels about it," I mumbled. I was having trouble staying -awake. I hadn't seen a bed for three days. It was hard to remember what -information I was supposed to get from Arena. - -"He'll join in if you do," Arena said. "Give up. Don't fight. Let it -happen." - -"You say you've got fuel. You're a liar. You've got no fuel." - -"I got plenty fuel, wise guy," Arena yelled. He was tired too. - -"Lousy crook," I said. "Can't even cheat a little without getting -caught at it." - -"Who's caught now, swabbie?" Arena was getting mad. That suited me. - -"You're a lousy liar, Arena. You can't hide hot metal. Even Stenn ought -to know that." - -"What else was in the cache, Maclamore?" Stenn asked--for the hundredth -time. He slapped me--also for the hundredth time. It jarred me and -stung. It was the last straw. If Stenn was acting, I'd help him along. -I lunged against the wires, swung a foot and caught him under the ribs. -He oofed and fell off his chair. - -"Don't push me any farther, you small-time chiselers," I yelled. -"You've got nothing but a cast brass gall to offer. There's no hole -deep enough to hide out power metal, even if a dumb slob like you -thought of it." - -"Dumb slob?" Arena barked. "You think a dumb slob could have built -the organization I did, put this town in his hip pocket? I started -stock-piling metal five years ago--a year before the ban. No hole deep -enough, huh? It don't need to be so deep when it's got two feet of lead -shielding over it." - -"So you smuggled a few tons of lead into the Public Library and filed -it under Little Bo Peep." - -"The two feet was there ahead of me, wisenheimer. Remember the -Polaris sub that used to be drydocked at Norfolk for the tourists to -rubberneck?" - -"Decommissioned and sold for scrap," I said. "Years ago." - -"But not scrapped. Rusted in a scrapyard for five years. Then I bought -her--beefed up her shielding--loaded her and sank her in ten fathoms of -water in Cartwright Bay." - -"That," Stenn said, "is the information we need." - -Arena whirled. Stenn was still sitting on the floor. He had a palm gun -in his hand, and it was pointed at the monogram on Arena's silk shirt. - -"A cross," Arena said. "A lousy cross...." - - * * * * * - -"Move back, Arena." Stenn got to his feet, eyes on Arena. - -"Where'd you have the stinger stashed?" - -"In my hand. Stop there." - -Stenn moved over to me. Eyes on Arena, he reached for the twisted ends -of wire, started loosening them. - -"I don't want to be nosey," I said. "But just where the hell do you fit -into this, Stenn?" - -"Naval Intelligence," Stenn said. - -Arena cursed. "I knew that name should have rung a bell. Vice Admiral -Stenn. The papers said you got yours when the Navy was purged." - -"A few of us eluded the net." - -Arena heaved a sigh. - -"Well, fellows," he said--and jumped. - -Stenn's shot went wild, and Arena left-hooked him down behind the -chair. As he followed, Stenn came up fast, landed a hard left, followed -up, drove Arena back. I yanked at my wires. Almost-- - -Then Arena, a foot taller, hammered a brutal left-right, and Stenn -sagged. Carefully Arena aimed a right cross to the jaw. Stenn dropped. - -Arena wiped an arm across his face. - -"The little man tried, Mister. Let's give him that." - -He walked past my chair, stooped for Stenn's gun. I heaved, slammed -against him, and the light chair collapsed as we went over. Arena -landed a kick, then I was on my feet, shaking a slat loose from the -dangling wire. Arena stepped in, threw a whistling right. I ducked it, -landed a hard punch to the midriff, another on the jaw. Arena backed, -bent over but still strong. I couldn't let him rest. I was after him, -took two in the face, ducked a haymaker that left him wide open just -long enough for me to put everything I had in an uppercut that sent him -back across his fancy desk. He sprawled, then slid onto the floor. - -I went to him, kicked him lightly in the ribs. - -"Where's Williams," I said. I kept kicking and asking. After five -tries, Arena shook his head and tried to sit up. I put a foot in his -face and he relaxed. I asked him again. - -"You didn't learn this kind of tactics at the Academy," Arena whined. - -"It's the times," I said. "They have a coarsening effect." - -"Williams was a fancy-pants," Arena said. "No guts. He pulled the -stopper." - -"Talk plainer," I said, and kicked him again, hard--but I knew what he -meant. - -"Blew his lousy head off," Arena yelled. "I gassed him and tried scop -on him. He blew. He was out cold, and he blew." - -"Yeah," I said. "Hypnotics will trigger it." - -"Fancy goddam wiring job," Arena muttered, wiping blood from his face. - - * * * * * - -I got the wire and trussed Arena up. I had to clip him twice before I -finished. I went through his pockets, looked at things, recovered my -souvenirs. I went over to Stenn. He was breathing. - -Arena was watching. "He's okay, for crissake," he said. "What kind of -punch you think I got?" - -I hoisted Stenn onto my shoulder. - -"So long, Arena," I said. "I don't know why I don't blow your brains -out. Maybe it's that Navy Cross citation in your wallet." - -"Listen," Arena said. "Take me with you." - -"A swell idea," I said. "I'll pick up a couple of tarantulas, too." - -"You're trying for the hack, right?" - -"Sure. What else?" - -"The roof," he said. "I got six, eight rotos on the roof. One -high-speed job. You'll never make the hack." - -"Why tell me?" - -"I got eight hundred gun boys in this building alone. They know you're -here. The hack is watched, the whole route. You can't get through." - -"What do you care?" - -"If the boys bust in here after a while and find me like this.... -They'll bury me with the wires still on, Maclamore." - -"How do I get to the roof?" - -He told me. I went to the right corner, pushed the right spot, and a -panel slid aside. I looked back at Arena. - -"I'll make a good sailor, Maclamore," he said. - -"Don't crawl, Arena," I said. I went up the short stair, came out onto -a block-square pad. - -Arena was right about the rotos. Eight of them. I picked the four-place -Cad, and got Stenn tied in. He was coming to, muttering. He was still -fighting Arena, he thought. - -"... I'll hold ... you ... get out...." - -"Take it easy, Stenn," I said. "Nothing can touch this bus. Where's the -boat?" I shook him. "Where's the boat, Stenn?" - -He came around long enough to tell me. It wasn't far--less than an -hour's run. - -"Stand by, Admiral," I said. "I'll be right back." - -"Where ... you...." - -"We need every good man we can get," I said. "And I think I know a guy -that wants to join the Navy." - - -EPILOGUE - -Admiral Stenn turned away from the communicator screen. - -"I think we'd be justified in announcing victory now, Commodore." As -usual, he sounded like a professor of diction, but he was wearing a big -grin. - -"Whatever you say, chief," I said, with an even sappier smile. - -I made the official announcement that a provisional Congress had -accepted the resignations of all claims by former office holders, and -that new elections would be underway in a week. - -I switched over to Power Section. The NCO in charge threw me a snappy -highball. Damned if he wasn't grinning too. - -"I guess we showed 'em who's got the muscle, Commodore," he said. - -"Your firepower demonstration was potent, Max," I said. "You must have -stayed up nights studying the tapes." - -"We've hardly scratched the surface yet," he said. - -"I'll be crossing back to _Alaska_ now, Mac," Stenn said. - -I watched him move across the half-mile void to the flagship. Five -minutes later the patrol detail broke away to take up surveillance -orbits. They would be getting all the shore leave for the next few -years, but I was glad my squadron had been detailed to go with the -flagship on the Deep Space patrol. I wanted to be there when we -followed those star surveys back to where their makers came from. Stenn -wasn't the man to waste time, either. He'd be getting under way any -minute. It was time to give my orders. I flipped the communicator key -to the squadron link-up. - -"Escort Commander to Escort," I said. "Now hear this...." - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The King of the City, by Keith Laumer - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KING OF THE CITY *** - -***** This file should be named 51781.txt or 51781.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/7/8/51781/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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