EVEN STEPHEN
By CHARLES A. STEARNS
Illustrated by EMSH
It only takes one man to destroy a pacifist
Utopia—if he has a gun, and will use it!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Infinity July 1957.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The henna-haired young man with the vermilion cape boarded Stephen's vehicle on the thirty-third air level, less than two whoops and a holler from a stationary police float, by the simple expedient of grappling them together with his right arm, climbing over into the seat beside Stephen, and allowing his own skimmercar to whisk off at a thousand miles an hour with no more control than its traffic-dodging mechanism afforded.
The peregrinator was barbarically splendid, and his curls showed the effect of a habitual use of some good hair undulant. More to the point, he had a gun. It was one of those wicked moisture rifles which can steam the flesh off a man's bones at three hundred paces. Quite illegal.