Shock Treatment, Page 2

dangerous tool in her unskilled, frightened hands.

  She had chosen him on the basis of his reputation. From his policerecord, and other documents. A capable man, courageous and self-reliant,ingenious, but a person of tensions and conflicts, a man of violence,unpredictable, torn by contradictory impulses, a savage but not withoutkindness and generosity. For her purposes, he might do as well as anyother. At worst a man, cast in heroic mold. Quickly, but not withoutrevulsions and reservations, she made her fateful decision.

  "For a man of your talents," she said, "the task should be simple. Iwant you to break into a building and bring me something. There isdanger you would not understand. If you fail, death for both of us. Forsuccess, you set the price. Are you interested?"

  Newlin laughed cynically. "You promise the moon if I can steal it foryou, nothing if I can't?"

  "No such shrewd bargaining," the girl murmured uneasily. "But name theamount you hoped to make here. I will match it now--and double it if youaccomplish my errand."

  "Fair enough," said Newlin. "But keep your money. I'll case the jobfirst. Pay me later--if I don't change my mind again."

  Ducking behind the bar, he shed his apron and buzzed for the stand-inbartender. Ed Careld forsook his interminable game of Martian chess andappeared to take over.

  "Seems quiet," he said. "What's up?"

  "Nothing," Newlin told him. "Private business. I may not be back. Keepan eye on Table Three."

  Careld nodded, eyed the gamblers at Table Three dubiously. He tied hisapron carefully and sidled toward the table to oversee the situation andclamp down a lid if necessary. Table Three picked that moment to eruptin profane violence. Three languages splashed pungently in dispute whichpassed quickly to a climax of crisscrossed heat-beam brilliance.Marksmanship was poor; both the fat Martian and his adversary fromGanymede survived, and only two questionable kibitzers blazed intosudden oblivion. Careld swept up the corpses into neat piles of ash,then tried to warn the combatants against further displays of shorttemper.

  * * * * *

  He died in an outburst of majority resentment, punctuated by heat-beams.Newlin returned behind the counter and buzzed for Careld's stand-in.Then clutching the girl's arm, he left the place, dragging her along.

  The street was dim, silent, deserted. "Where to?" asked Newlin.

  Her quick nod indicated direction.

  "Walking distance?" he persisted. "Inside the city? If not, I'll have toget protection suits from a public locker."

  "Just inside. Monta Park."

  Newlin whistled. "Nice neighborhood. Do you live there?"

  "No," she faltered. "I'm just in from--Earth."

  Earth! It was a long time since Newlin had seen Earth. Few of hismemories were pleasantly nostalgic. Born there, in the poorest quarterof the international spaceport of Sahara City, his early life had beenhard. Both parents had died there, broken from strain and poverty, andNewlin escaped only by stowing away in the dangerous after-holds of arocketship bound for Mars, risking the unpleasant death from leakingradioactives in preference to being poor on Earth.

  He had been poor since, in many places, but never with the grindinghopelessness of those early nightmare years. Their mark stayed with himand colored his life. He knew every rathole of the system, with the sameintimacy the rats knew them. Once, on a non-stop express rocket fromMars to Pluto, he had lost a finger and all the toes from his left footin ceaseless guerilla warfare with rats which had disputed possession ofthe hold in which he stowed away. More than once he had bummed passagenear the atomic fuel vats of cranky old space-freighters that were meretin cans caulked with chewing gum. As boy and man, he slept in jailsfrom the dark, mad moons of Neptune to the fiery beach-head colonies ofMercury. And with fists, brain and nimble fingers he had written an epicbiography in Security Police annals.

  Like other cities of the space frontier, Venusport was raw and crude,exotically beautiful and cruelly violent. To Newlin it was old stuff,picturesque, with the spicy flavor of a perilous vacation spot. Afterabrasive years on a dozen planets and habitable moons, the uglysavageries of Venus had only a quaint charm. Survival was alwayscomparatively easy there, and a man shed normal fears with theshredding, blistered skin of spaceburns. He was surprised when the girlshuddered and drew close to him. Her instinctive trust amused him, andhe laughed brutally. The sound slashed between them like a chilledblade.

  They went together, in silence. Faint, flat breeze from the city'sair-conditioners fanned their faces. It was dark enough, and for Venus,reasonably cool. Buildings strewn like a careless giant's toys formed avague and monstrous backdrop. Street-lighting was poor, for suchluxuries are expensive and the city fathers cared little what happenedto the poor, diseased, half-starved nonentities. All streets werecrooked aimless alleys, all black and empty. Only near landing stagesand space-freight elevators was there any activity. Darkness and theCyclopean setting gave more menace than intimacy to the dim tangles ofavenues and parkways.

  The girl stopped, panting for breath. Newlin waited for her.

  "You're a fool to trust yourself alone with me in a place like this," hetold her grimly.

  She hugged the loose mantle tightly across her shoulders and triedvainly to read his face in the murk.

  "If you're trying to frighten me, you're wasting time," she said, "Ihave more important fears."

  Newlin chuckled. Skinny wench, but she had something. There was pride inher, and scorn, and a hot spark that burned through the tones of coldscorn. Something else, too. A hint of desperate courage that baffledhim.

  "I still think you should have tried the panther sweat at theSpacebell," he suggested. "One sip and--"

  "I know," she snapped. "And I hope you've had yours for tonight. You'llneed it. We're almost there."

  "In that case, we'd better talk," he said curtly. "I still know nothingabout you. Who you are, what you want? I don't even know your name."

  She spoke in low, vibrant tones, but the language seemed unfamiliar toher. She groped for exact words, extracted subtle meanings. But therewas a hesitance, an uneasiness, about speech itself, as if she found ita tedious and inflexible medium for thought expressions.

  "I told you. In a--building, there is a man I must see. He does not wishto see me, and there are barriers I cannot pass. The building is acombination workshop and living quarters, and something else you wouldnot understand. You must go inside for me and induce him to come out tome. My name is Songeen. Tell him that. He will know me, and perhaps hewill come. But it has been so long--"

  Newlin grunted. "That man I must see. One who wouldn't come when youwhistled. However long it has been?"

  "He has changed--greatly. He may be insane. He may be dangerous. Inself-defense, it may be necessary for you to kill him. For yourprotection, I have provided a weapon. Use all other means to persuadehim first, but threaten if you have to. And be ready to kill if heattacks you. But dead or alive, bring him to me."

  * * * * *

  Suddenly Newlin disliked his errand. Even more, he disliked himself. Fora brittle moment, he was moved to turn back, refuse to carry out abargain he now regretted. Killing for pay, at the whim of a jealous orscorned woman, was too ugly even for his calloused morality.

  "Preferably dead?" he asked thinly.

  "Preferably alive," Songeen murmured. "You would not understand, ofcourse. It is because I love him. He will not come, but he must have thechance. And I must send a stranger to kill him, because hehas--forgotten."

  Newlin stiffened angrily. He was on the point of rejecting the girl andher project when a battery of lights moved toward them from the windinglanes of the Park. Too well he knew what they meant.

  As the wealthiest district of Venusport, Monta Park was smug,respectable, luxurious--and protected. Roving radio-patrols ofProtection Police--privately hired thugs--guarded its dwellers and theirpossessions. A prowling mono-car slowed and maneuvered to cast arevealing spotlight on the loitering pair. Newlin, had he been alone,
might have dodged into the dense shrubbery, but the girl knew better.

  _The spotlight meant violence and sudden death._]

  Calmly she turned to face down the occupants of the PP car, and herhaughty expression would have chilled the blood of any PP constablepresumptuous enough to question her. Her attitude and the obviousrichness of her clothing seemed to satisfy the patrol, for the beamswung briefly and hesitated on Newlin. He dropped behind her like aservant bodyguard and hoped his scuffed space-leather was not toonoticeable. The beam held for seconds, then flicked out. Soundlessly thepatrol car vanished.

  Neither spoke as the pair moved quickly into the precincts of the Park.As residence area, it was splashy; a series of interlocked estatesrather than expensive