“You needn’t bother. It was done more than eighteen years ago. Apparently they didn’t bother to tell you that the stunt of taking an innocent general science dabbler and trying to make a policeman out of him had been tried before, with no visible results?”
“No, they didn’t. I’ll have something to say to Rade when we get back. If he knew that—”
“Take it easy on him. Under the circumstances, I’m very glad he tried again. You haven’t done such a bad job, you know.”
“Maybe not, but the job’s not done. I see the reason, now for a lot of things that puzzled me about you. As far as I’m concerned, this is your show as much as mine, from now on. How do we go about collecting Drai? I suppose the others aren’t worth bothering with.”
“Why not leave him where he it? There’s no other ship; he’s stuck as long as we have this one, unless he wants to take a ride in a torpedo. Since there’s nowhere else in this system where he could live for any length of time, I don’t think he’ll do that. My advice would be to take off right away, and let him worry about what’s happened until we get back with official support.”
“The motion is carried — except for one thing. I have to run a little errand first. Feth, you keep an eye on our friend and pilot while I’m gone.” He disappeared toward the air lock before any questions could be asked.
As a matter of fact, his absence was quite long, and eventually the ship had to go after him. He was in a valley adjacent to that of the station, with a problem he could not handle alone. Sallman Ken liked to pay his debts.
None of the Wings, of course, felt that the strange “fire-man” owed them anything. On the contrary. They did not blame him for the fire — he had been on the ground, talking to them, when the ship started it. The blaze was out by night, anyway, with the aid of the crew from Clark Fork. The only real concern the family felt was whether or not the alien would return.
It was not until evening that anyone remembered that a torpedo load of metal should have arrived that day. Don and Roger went out in the morning to the site of the transmitter, and found a torpedo, but its cargo door was closed and there was no answer to their shouts. This, of course, was the one Drai had sent down, and which he had completely forgotten in the rush of events. It had been operating on radio rather than achronic transmitter control, since the Karella had been so near at the time, and there was no way to switch it back from a distance even if the drug-runner’s memory should improve. Ken himself, with his “payment” safely on board the Karella, never thought of it; his attention had promptly switched to the obvious need for a survey of the Solar System before he left it. A full Earth day had been spent looking briefly over Sol’s frozen family, before he could be persuaded to start for home — Feth did not try very hard to persuade him, as a matter of fact, since he had his own share of scientific curiosity. At last, however, they plunge back to make the final call at Planet Three. The transmitter was just emerging into sunlight; this time even Lee appeared willing to home down on it. A mile above the peaks, Ken guided him on a long downward slant to a point above the Wing home.
The natives had seen them coming; all seven of them were standing outside, watching the descent with emotions that Ken could easily guess. He waved Lee into a position that brought the air lock directly over the clearing in front of the house, and the lowest part of the ship’s hull thirty feet above the treetops. Then he climbed into his armor, entered the air lock with his “payment,” and opened the outer door without bothering to pump back the air. For a moment he was enveloped in a sheet of blue fire, which burst from the port and caused the natives to exclaim in alarm. Fortunately the flame of burning sulfur licked upward, and was gone in a moment. Then Ken, waving the natives away from directly below, rolled his payment over the sill of the lock. It made quite a hole in the ground. A carefully made diagram, drawn on the fluo-silicone material the Sarrians used for paper, followed; and when the Wings looked up after crowding around this, the Karella was a dwindling dot in the sky, and Ken was already preparing a report for the planetary ecologists and medical researchers who would return with them. Perhaps a cure for the drug could be found, and even if it weren’t he was on good enough terms with the natives so that he needn’t worry too much. Not, of course, that that was his only interest in the weird beings; they seemed rather likable, in their own way—