Look Out For Space (Seven For Space) Page 12

  The laser blast had sliced into her heart, and she folded down to the cold stone floor. Her eyes, gone sightless with death, were open and staring.

  Susan Sunbright, born Emma Irmaline Gretch, untied me.

  "How did you get here?" I asked her. "How did you know where to find me?"

  "I love you, Sam," she told me. "And I keep track of the men I love."

  "That's no answer," I said.

  "I had a dream about you, that you were in great danger. So I contacted O'Malley when I couldn't reach you at your office. He said you told him you were going after Wrenhurst. One of his men had tailed you as far as the planet Bailey …"

  She was chafing my wrists to restore circulation as she talked."O'Malley's man lost you on Bailey. He was on a fugg, and it bit him."

  "They tend to do that," I nodded.

  "Anyhow, I guessed you were going to see Halfcat, for help against Wrenhurst."

  "Correct," I said. "But he crossed me. He was in cahoots with the witch."

  "I followed Halfcat's ship when it left Bailey. Followed it over here to the castle. I saw Halfcat hand you over to Old Peg. After he took off again, I climbed the wall and found you here."

  "You're a real peach," I said.

  And I gave her a kiss.

  Then she gave me a kiss.

  Which gave me an erection.

  Which she joyfully dealt with.

  And believe me, having Susan Sunbright deal with your erection is better than having your head chopped off by a foul smelling witch.

  There's just no comparison.

  Twenty-Six

  When I checked into Bubble City my vidservice told me that a Mr. Oliver of Chicago had left an urgent message: CAN PUT HEAD ON STRAIGHT. COME AT ONCE. NATE.

  It was welcome news since I was plenty fed up with having my nog reversed.

  Susan went to Chicago with me. I'd told her all about Nate and she wanted to meet him. He fascinated her. "I love eccentrics," she told me.

  "Nate is lovable," I grinned.

  But when we walked into his living quarters we got a shock.

  There, facing us (all fat, all jolly), were four Nate Olivers!

  "What's going on?" I snapped.

  "We're all from different parallel universes," explained one of them.

  "That's right, Sam," said another. "The time machine went haywire."

  "And we all ended up in the same universe," said the third Nate."It's embarrassing."

  "Which one of you sent me the message about my head?"

  "I did, Sam," said the fourth Oliver. "Your head is my responsibility. I belong here. The others don't."

  "Well, what are you going to do with 'em?" I wanted to know.

  His fat cheeks glowed with confidence. "Oh, I've worked out a way to send them all back. Won't take a minute. If you'll just wait here with this young lady …"

  "Susan Sunbright," I put in.

  "Yes … with Miss Sunbright. I'll be back to you in a jiffy."

  "I'm not sure which me I am," said one of the other three Olivers.

  'I'll sort you all out," Nate promised, herding the trio of his otherselves into the lab.

  Susan and I were alone. She shook her head. "You were right, he certainly is eccentric."

  "Yeah. His machines mess up on him a lot of the time, but Nate's a real genius. He merits respect."

  A loud crackle and hum burst from the lab. We could see sparks under the door. Smoke seeped out.

  "I hope he's all right," said Susan.

  "If he isn't, my dome stays reversed."

  But Nate was fine. He walked back to us, dusting his pink hands.

  "Everything's hunky dory," he said. "I got 'em all shipped back to where they belong." He patted me on the shoulder. "Your head comes next."

  "Great," I said.

  And we followed him into the lab.

  Nate told me to sit down in what looked like a 20th century phone booth. He clapped some wires on me, attached straps to my arms and legs, then moved to a switch panel.

  "Here we go," he said.

  And he threw the switch.

  The booth began shaking. My teeth rattled. Everything went black. Then red. Then purple.

  The shaking stopped.

  My head was on straight again.

  "My, that was impressive," remarked Susan. She gave Nate a kiss on the cheek.

  He blushed.

  "Dames fluster him," I said, and we went back into Nate's living quarters.

  I sat down on Barbra Streisand. Nate sat on Burt Lancaster and Susan stretched out on W.C. Fields.

  "This is how Nate makes his living," I explained to her. "He restores old movie stars. Makes chairs and sofas out of 'em."

  Oliver nodded, his chins bouncing. "I broke Robert Redford's leg last week. Looks like I'll have to rebuild his kneecap."

  "You're a remarkable man, Mr. Oliver," said Susan. "Is there no end to your talents?"

  Nate blushed again and offered us some fruit wine.

  After two glasses we all began to giggle. Having my head on straight again was cause for celebration and I was in a mood to relax. But Nate wanted to know all about the case. Had I solved it yet?

  "Pendorf Wrenhurst is behind everything," I said. "A rock rustler named Halfcat works for him, and so did a free lance witch named Old Peg. She tried to chop me, but Susan put her away."

  We drank a toast to Susan.

  "Is this Wrenhurst still at large?"

  "Yep," I said. "And I've got to figure a new way to nail him. He recently arranged for the murder of a copmouse associate of mine."

  "Lieutenant Sylvester Pennington?"

  "Yeah." I raised an eyebrow. "How'd you know his name?"

  "Because he's alive," said Nate. "I met him when I projected myself into your office. He was waiting there to see you."

  "When was this."

  "Let's see …" Nate pursed his lips. "It would have to be later today. Your wallchron said four."

  I wanted to know how Nate got to my office.

  "My time machine is very unstable. I never know just where I'll end up when I use it. I was fiddling with it last week and got myself projected into your office today. Pennington was in there alone, waiting. I told him I was a friend of yours."

  I jumped up, knocking over Paul Newman. "It's noon there … which means that in four hours Sylvester will be waiting for me in BubbleCity!"

  "Right," said Oliver. "So you see, he isn't dead after all."

  "C'mon," I said to Susan. "We can book a ZT warper to Mars and make it by four."

  "Do you think he's found a way to trap Wrenhurst? she asked me.

  "Your guess is as good as mine. But I know one thing …" I grinned. "I'll be plenty relieved to see that mouse again!"

  Twenty-Seven

  We made it on time. The old Q-grav warptubs used to take forever and a day to get from Earth to Mars, but these new Zeeter-thrust T-pod jobs really step out.

  In Bubble City we grabbed an automated glider to my office, but the damn thing demanded a 56% tip before it would activate its passenger release door.

  I was going to argue, but Susan paid and the door popped for us.

  "That's skyway robbery!" I protested, as we rode a pedbelt to my building.

  "We're in a period of galactic inflation," she said. "Prices always rise in an unstable economy."

  "I think they made a big mistake in electing a computer President of the United States," I declared.

  "Don't tell me you're against Computer Lib!"

  "I never said that. I just don't believe in excessive tipping. Especially to machines. They never react emotionally to customer generosity."

  Susan giggled. "You're old fashioned, Sam!" she told me. "But I love everything about you, including your old fashioned erections!"

  And she gave me one to prove it.

  * * *

  When I opened my office door I grinned; Nate was right about the mouse. There was Pennington, perched jauntily on the edge of my desk, his tail c
urled around my antique Early American Electric Pencil Sharpener.

  "Hey, Sylvester!" I yelled. "Glad to see you alive!"

  I used two fingers to shake his front paw.

  "Thanks, Sam," he said. "And I'll say the same for you. When you didn't come back from the Moon …"

  "It was close," I admitted. "First, Wrenhurst tried to have me killed in the Gulfs, but then when that didn't work, he used a witch, but Susan saved my life."

  The mouse nodded a hello to her, looking nervous. "Shut the door, Sam," he said. "We have to talk." He hesitated. "Could … the young lady leave us alone?"

  "I'll be in your waiting room," said Susan. And she left, pulling the door closed behind her.

  * * *

  I turned to Pennington. "Wrenhurst is behind it all," I said, wondering if I should finish the bottle of imported Scotch in my desk. "The witch, who fooled us with her redhead act, was working for him. How come she let you go?"

  I flopped down on my worn nearcouch, deciding to bypass the Scotch for now. Maybe later. First I wanted to iron out all the details.

  "Use that logical brain of yours, Sam," said Sylvester. "Ask yourself, if you were the redhead and had lured me to the Painpit, would you allow me to leave it alone?"

  "Never. That's why I'm confused," I said. "Obviously, you got away. But how?"

  "It's quite simple," said the mouse. "I was never captured."

  "But at the Painpit, they said …"

  "And the witch didn't work for Wrenhurst," he cut in.

  "Then who did she work for?"

  Pennington's tiny eyes were fever bright. "Me," he said.

  And I could see that now he was holding a .20-14 flexer trishot in his right paw. Aimed at my heart.

  "This weapon, although quite small, is deadly at short range," said the mouse.

  "I don't get it."

  "Of course you don't. I'm the last creature in the System anyone would suspect of being the mastermind behind the worm and insect kidnappings."

  "Why did you pick me as a co-partner in solving the crimes if you were the one who pulled them off?"

  "I wanted you dead. You were far too nosey, too involved in the case. I sent you to Wrenhurst to be dealt with. He allowed you to get into his faxden. To trap you. He was only pretending not to know your real identity. It was all an amusing act."

  "So it was really you who sent me into the Gulfs to die?"

  "Exactly. But I didn't count on the invention of your fat friend from Chicago which saved your life. Things got a bit out of hand. When you went to Halfcat, he took you to Old Peg, thinking that I'd want her to kill you."

  "Well, didn't you?"

  "No. Halfcat should have consulted me in the matter. I wanted you to die here, in your office, by your own hand. Suicide."

  "And what is my motive?"

  "Remorse over the fact that you killed your own client, Brother Thaddius. After trying to blackmail him. You tried to extract money from him. When he refused to pay, you killed him."

  "How nasty of me." I glared at the rodent. "Who's going to believe all this?"

  "O'Malley for one. Everything is neatly explained in your suicide note. In your own handwriting." He chuckled … a little, bubbly sound."Forgery is another of my many talents."

  "I want to know why, Sylvester. Why would you steal all those dinky asteroids, kidnap worm and insect folk?"

  "You are in no position to question me."

  "I know. You've got the gun. But I'm a curious guy, Sylvester. When an honest copmouse turns sour, I like to know the reason."

  "The key word is 'mouse,'" he said. "Being one, I knew I could never gain real power within our planetary System. I'm simply too small. To gain the kind of power I wanted, I knew I would have to create my own kingdom."

  I nodded. "The old God Complex, eh?"

  "Why not? Total power is a goal sought by many throughout history. But, you may ask, how can a mouse become God?"

  "Tell me how," I said. If I could keep him talking, I might figure out a way to disarm him. I needed time, and his egomania was buying some for me. By now he was ranting.

  "By creating my own miniature solar System. I began by gathering over two thousand of the smallest asteroids I could locate, then herding them into an area just beyond the Dogstar Cluster, where no one would think to look for them."

  "And one of the rocks you ripped off belonged to Brother Thad, right?"

  "That is correct."

  "Go on."

  "To populate my System of miniature worlds I needed creatures smaller than myself, so I began kidnapping worm and insect citizens. Now, at last, my special universe is complete, waiting for me to take charge of it. No one knows I'm alive. They think I was murdered in the line of duty. Just as you thought." He chuckled again. "When I leave Mars, after killing you, I shall be free to rule my own System, as the largest creature within that System." He glared at me. "I hate anything larger than I am! For example, I hate you!"

  "What about Nate Oliver and Susan? They know you're alive."

  "No one would believe a crazed eccentric," said Pennington. "As for Susan Sunbright, I'll handle her after I've finished with you."

  "Got everything worked out, eh?"

  "Everything," nodded the mouse.

  "How come it took you so long to kill me?"

  "I had Old Peg appear as the redhead to send you to Franklin Elster Iberia, figuring that you would be mistaken for a federation snoop and be killed by one of Iberia's contacts."

  "Which almost happened," I said. "McKabe sent a spider wrestler to do the job."

  "But you survived. Eventually, I had to depend on Wrenhurst. But he, too, failed. Which is why I'm here … to do the job myself."

  "Seems like you just can't depend on hired help these days," I said.

  As we'd been talking, I was slowly working the toe of my right shoe toward the plug-in cord leading to my electric pencil sharpener . Pennington still had his tail curled around it.

  Now, suddenly, I jerked on the cord with my shoe, upsetting the pencil sharpener and knocking the mouse off the edge of my desk.

  By the time he hit the floor, I was there to step on his gun paw. I reached down and plucked away the tiny .20-14.

  "You're going back to Mouse Headquarters," I told Sylvester. "McFarlin will want to have a few words with you." I gave him a tight grin. "And I really wouldn't plan on ruling any universes, if I were you. Unless you can do it from a jail cell."

  "Damn you, Space!" squeaked the mouse. "I wish Old Peg had cut your head off!"

  I picked him up by his tail and dropped him into an antique cigar box, placing a heavy Earthbook on top to keep the lid closed.

  Then I called Susan in and told her what had happened.

  She sighed. "Looks as if the mouse had us all fooled."

  "A lot of people enjoy playing other people for fools," I told her. "And you're one of them."

  Susan looked startled. "What are you saying?"

  "I'm saying that you're as phony as your freckles, Miss Sunbright."

  "Sam … how can you say that? I saved your life!"

  "Sure, so Sylvester could kill me himself. When he found out that Old Peg was going to do the job, he sent you to stop her. He wanted to rig my death as suicide, not murder."

  "You suspect me of working for Pennington?"

  "I'm sure of it, doll. Halfcat sent me to Collingo who, no doubt, also worked for the mouse. Collingo sent me to you, to be seduced, while the mouse had Brother Thaddius killed here in my office."

  She looked stunned; tears were forming in her eyes.

  "You people figured that O'Malley would send me up for that murder. But I wiggled out of it. Then Sylvester sent me to the Moon to die." I counted on my fingers: "Wrenhurst, Halfcat, Collingo, Old Peg, and you … all in it together. Sylvester Pennington was paying all of you."

  Susan put her arms around me, pressing her ample bosom against my chest. "But you love me, Sam! You told me so."

  I pulled back, pushing her
away from me.

  "Maybe I do love you, and maybe I don't. What I feel about you doesn't matter anymore. You were one of the people responsible for killing my client and when a client of mine is killed I have to do something about it." I gave her a long, hard look. "I'm sending you over, sister. You're taking the fall. I'm not willing to play the squeeb for you."

  "Squeeb?"

  "It means 'sap' in Zuberite."

  She was sobbing when I pressed the vidbutton."Get me O'Malley," I said.

  I knew I was going to have some bad nights after I turned her in, but that's how it goes in my kind of game. Sometimes you just have to take care of your own erections.

  FICTION

  By William F. Nolan

  NOVELS

  Logan's Run (1967); Death Is For Losers (1968); The White Cad Cross-up (1969); Space For Hire (1971); Logan's World (1977); Logan's Search (1980); Look Out For Space (1985); Rio Renegades (1989); Helltracks (1991); The Black Mask Murders (1994); The Marble Orchard (1996); Sharks Never Sleep (1998); The Winchester Horror (1998); Demon! (2006); Logan's Quest (in progress)

  COLLECTIONS

  Impact-20 (1963); Alien Horizons (1974); Wonderworlds (1977); Things Beyond Midnight (1984); Logan: A Trilogy (1986); 3 For Space (1992); Night Shapes (1995); The Brothers Challis (1996); Down The Long Night (2000); William F. Nolan's Dark Universe (2001); The Logan Chronicles (2003); Have You Seen The Wind? (2003); Nightworlds (2004); Ships In The Night (2005); Far Out (2005); Ill Met By Moonlight (2005); Wild Galaxy (2005); Nightshadows (2007); Seven For Space (2007)

  CHAPBOOKS

  The Dandelion Chronicles (1984); Blood Sky (1991); Helle On Wheels (1992); Simply An Ending (2002); With Marlowe In L.A. (2003)