Chapter 12

The next evening Hanlon went back to the Bacchus. Instead of stopping at the bar he went directly to the back room and knocked on the door.

When the peephole opened he asked, “The Boss in?”

“Nope.”

“I’ve got a report to make.”

“Wait at the bar. I’ll get in touch.”

A quarter hour later the man summoned him, and upon entering that now-familiar room Hanlon saw a closet door was standing open, disclosing a visiphone screen, on which the leader’s face was visible.

“Well?”

“Yep.”

“Ah!” There was a quick intake of breath, and a feral gleam in those greenish eyes. A moment’s silence, then “Do you still want that overseer’s job?”

“For a thousand a month and keep? Definitely!”

“Very well, we’ll try you. Zeller will give you a list of things you’ll need there--special clothing and such. Uh ... got any money to buy those you don’t have?”

“I will have when you pay me Rellos’ expense money for last night.”

The leader’s eyes narrowed in sudden anger. “Don’t try my patience too far, Hanlon.”

“Okay,” Hanlon shrugged indifferently. “But I never figured you for a cheapskate.”

There was a gasp, as though the leader was amazed at Hanlon’s temerity. But he quickly gained control of himself, and an instant later began smiling, then grinning and finally laughing aloud ... at himself.

“By Zeus, Hanlon, I like you! Nobody else ever dared talk up to me like that. You win. Tell Zeller ... no, put him on, I’ll tell him ... Zeller, give Hanlon the list of things needed for the mine-guard job, and pay him a hundred credits, charged to the ‘accident fund’. Tell him to be here, all packed to go, at thirteen o’clock.” He started to turn the set off, then, as he heard Hanlon ask “Anything else now?” faced the screen again.

“Not unless you want to make rounds with the boys again. It will be some time before you can have any night-life.”

Hanlon made a sign of distaste and shook his head. “Unh-uh, thanks. Two big-heads in a row will last me for plenty time. I’ll go get some shut-eye.”

The leader smiled companionably. “The rest might be best, for you’ll have a rather rough trip. You’ll ride a freighter, not a luxury liner.”

“Do I ask where I’m going?”

“Does it matter?”

Hanlon shrugged. “Not especially. Just curiosity.”

“Then it won’t particularly bother you if we ... uh ... keep your destination a secret for a while?”

“Not in the least, if you want it that way,” he yawned indifferently. But his mind was so anxious he had trouble not letting it show in his face or eyes. How was he to get that location? He thought swiftly, and conceived a possibility.

“Your bar here serve Cola?”

“What is that?”

“A soft drink very popular on Terra and many other planets. I’d like to take a case with me, if it’s allowed.”

“I see no reason against it. I never heard of it, but you might ask the bargirls.”

“I can get it at the Golden Web if you don’t have it here. I had some there the other night.”

He watched carefully but there was no sign of suspicion; the leader did not even seem interested.

Hanlon blanked the screen, got the list and money from Zeller, and walked out. The Bacchus did not stock Cola, so he took a ground-cab to the Golden Web.

Pretending half-drunkenness, he walked in and ordered the case of drink from his colleague. While drinking a glass of it, he talked in more or less garrulous tones. In between unimportant words he informed the SS man bartender that he was leaving the next noon for another planet whose name and location he hadn’t yet been able to learn.

“Got a good boss, though,” he mumbled thickly. “Very good boss--sure he knows a lot. Headquarters at the Bacchus.”

Hooper, quick of understanding as all SS men have to be, merely said aloud the conventional “Safe Flights,” but Hanlon knew he would do everything he could to get that planetary information.

And Hanlon was well content as he went to the hotel and to bed. What could be done, had been done.

As soon as he had breakfasted the next morning, Hanlon checked out of his hotel, then went out and purchased the special clothing and other items on his list. With everything packed in traveling cases, he presented himself at the Bacchus just before thirteen o’clock.

As he got out of the cab, and gave orders to the doorman about keeping his luggage until he was ready to leave, Hanlon was heartened to see Hooper, apparently reading a newsheet, leaning against the terrace-facade nearby.

In the back room the leader and three others, including the ubiquitous Panek, were waiting for him. He was handed an envelope.

“When you arrive, give these credentials to Peter Philander, the superintendent. He will be your boss there. Just do as he says, don’t get nosey about what is going on, and you will do all right.”

“Don’t worry about my keeping my nose clean. I’m taking along a dozen extra hankies.”

His last doubts about leaving Simonides to go to the unknown planet were now at rest. He was sure that there he would find the leads he so desperately needed--and probably only there could he get them.

They picked up his luggage, then all got into a large, black ground-car, and as it started the men lowered curtains over the windows. And while Hanlon was wondering about that, one of them pinned his arms suddenly to his side while another slapped a piece of adhesive across his eyes, smoothing it tightly into place.

Hanlon gasped, but did not struggle.

“That’s right, don’t fight it,” the leader’s voice was almost kind. “We just don’t want you knowing where we are going ... yet.”

The car travelled some miles, then stopped and they all got out. The men helped Hanlon down, led him a few dozen steps, then helped him climb into another machine. In a moment he realized they were now in an aircar that had taken off, and he frowned. Assuming that Hooper had followed, he’d be out of it now. He was on his own.

For several moments Hanlon tried in vain to read from the others’ minds where they were going. He had almost given up hope when he heard the unmistakable panting of a small dog, and realized that one of the air crew must have brought a pet.

Quickly his mind contacted that of the dog, and instantly was inside it, looking out through the dog’s eyes. He controlled its mind so that it climbed up in the man’s lap and, with its forepaws on the fellow’s shoulder, looked out of the aircar’s window. No one seemed to find anything peculiar in the dog’s actions, its owner merely patting it as it stood there, as Hanlon could feel through the dog’s senses.

Now Hanlon could see they were nearing some mountains, and took particular notice of everything that might be remembered as a landmark. Soon they were settling down into a little hidden valley, where there was a fairly large space-freighter.

They led him into this ship, and he lost the dog, so could not see just where they were taking him. Finally he sensed they were in a small room, and the adhesive was ripped from his face.

The leader and Panek stood in the small cabin with Hanlon.

“This is to be your cabin. Sorry for the precautions, but you can see why, I am sure. But if you behave, and make a good record, you won’t have to ... uh ... worry about them any more. Take-off almost immediately, so we have to leave. Safe flights, and I hope you make out all right.”

He looked fixedly at Hanlon for a long, long minute, and the young man, returned his gaze as steadily.

“I’ll do my job,” Hanlon said honestly after that moment--but it was his job for the Secret Service he meant. “Good-bye, and thanks. Thank you, too, Panek, for your help.”

“Glad to’ve done it, Pal, glad to.”

“See you in four months, then,” and the two left.

Hanlon stored his luggage in the racks made for it, then started to go outside and see what was going on. But the door was locked.

“They sure don’t want me to know where we’re going,” he grinned ruefully as he sat down on the edge of his bunk. “That makes me know it’s important, and I’ll get it some day--they can’t keep it from me forever.”

Sirens screamed “take-off,” and he strapped himself into his bunk. When he felt the pressure subside and knew they were in space he unstrapped and relaxed. But there was nothing he could do.

Later there was the sound of a key in the lock. When the door opened a heavy-set man carrying a blaster stepped inside.

“Stand back, Bud, and keep your hands in sight.”

Hanlon raised his hands while the messcook brought in a tray and set it on his bunk. As they were going out Hanlon spoke. “You got any books on board? I don’t mind being locked in and won’t make any trouble, but please give me something to do.”