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star chart was wrong or the gravity meter was off; the former, strangely enough, gave Earth's
gravity as 1.000000 and the latter as O.8952, a whopping ten per cent discrepancy. Further, the
principal inert gas hi Earth's atmosphere was, according to the master chart's planetary
supplement, nitrogen; and according to the ship's instruments was indubitably neon. A terrific
aurora polaris display constantly flickering hi the northern sky bore that out.
But the gap between the chart and the facts didn't particularly worry Ross as they swung along
overland. So the
chart was off, or perhaps things had changed. This was according to Flarney via Whitker the place
where people knew about the formula, where his questions would be answered. After this, he thought
happily, it's off to Halsey's Planet and an unspecified glorious future, revered as the savior of
humanity instead of a lousy Yards clerk pushing invoices around. And Helena, he thought
sentimentally....
He turned to smile at her and found she and Bernie were giggling.
"Listen, you two!" Captain Ross roared. "Haven't you learned anything yet? What's the good of us
exploring if we stroll along with our silly heads in the clouds, not paying attention? Do you
realize that this place may be as dangerous as Azor or worse?"
"Ross " Helena said.
"Don't interrupt! What this outfit needs is some discipline tightening up. You two have got to
accept your responsibilities. Keep alert! Be on the lookout! Any single thing out of the ordinary
may be a deathtrap. Watch for "
Helena was looking not at Ross but over his shoulder. Bernie was making strangled noises and
pointing.
Ross turned. Behind him stood a mechanical monstrosity vaguely recognizable as a heavily-armed
truck, its motor faintly humming. A man leaned darkly from the cab and transfixed them to the
ground with a powerful spotlight. From the dazzling circle of light his voice came, hasty and
furtive. "Thought it was two women and a man, but I guess you're the ones. Ugh, those faces on
you! Yes, you're the ones. Get in. Fast."
The light blinked out. " " When their eyes adjusted to the dimmer illumination of the stars and the
aurora display they saw a side door in the body of the truck standing open. Too, one of the long,
slim gun barrels with which the truck seemed copiously supplied swiveled to cover them.
Ross stupidly read aloud a sign on the truck: "Jones Floor-Cover Company. Finest Tile on Jones.
Wall-to-Wall a Specialty. 'Rugs Fit For a Jones'."
"Yeah," the man said. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't try to buy any. Get in, for Jones' sake! If I'd of
known you were half-
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wits I wouldn't of taken this job for a million Joneses, cash. Get in!" His voice was hysterical
and the gun covering them moved ominously. "If this is a frame " he began to shrill.
"Get in," Ross said shakily to the others. They climbed in and the door slammed violently and
automatically. Helena began to cry in a preoccupied sort of way and Bernie began a long, mumbling
inventory of his own mental weaknesses for ever getting involved in this crackbrained, imbecilic,
feeble-minded. . . .
There were windows in the truck body and Ross turned from one to another. He saw the guns on the
cab telescope into stubs, the stubs fold into the mounts, the mounts smoothly descend flush with
the sheet metal. He saw the cursing driver manipulate a dozen levers as the car began to glide
across the green sand, purple-dotted with vegetation. Finally, through the rear window, he saw
three figures racing across the sand waving their arms, rapidly being left behind. All he could
make out was that they seemed to be two women and a man.
Helena was wailing softly, " and I am not ugly and just because we're young and we're strangers
isn't any reason to go around insulting people "
From Bernie: " fatheaded, goggly-eyed, no-browed, slobber-lipped, dim-witted "
"Shut up," Ross said softly. "Before I bang both your heads together."
They stared.
"Thank you. We've got to think. What's this spot we're in? What can we do about it? I don't have
any F-T-L contact name for Earth and obviously this fellow picked us up by mistake. I saw two
women and a man remember what he said? just now trying to catch up with us. He seems to be some
kind of criminal. Otherwise why a disguised gun-carrier? Why floor coverings 'but don't try to buy
any'? And Jones seems to be the name of the local political subdivision, the name of the local
deity and the currency. That's important. It points to a rigid one-man dictatorship Jones, of
course, or possibly his dynasty. What
course of action should we take? Kick it around. Helena, what do you think?"
"He shouldn't have said we were ugly," she pouted. "Isn't that important?"
"Women!" Ross said grimly. "If you'll kindly forget the trivial affront to your vanity perhaps we
can figure something out."
Helena said stubbornly: "But he shouldn't. We're not. What if they just think we are because they
all look alike and we don't look like them?"
Ross collapsed. After a long pause during which he tried and almost failed to control his temper
he said slowly: "Thank you, Helena. You're wrong, of course, but it was a contribution. You see,
you can't build up such a wild, farfetched theory from the few facts available." His voice was
beginning to choke with anger. "It isn't reasonable and it isn't really any help. In fact it's the
God-damndest stupidest imitation of reasoning I have ever "
"City," Bernard croaked, pointing. The jolting ride had become smoother, and gliding past the
windows were green tiled buildings and street lights.
"Fine," Ross said bitterly. "We had a few clear minutes to think and now we find they were wasted
by the crackpot dissertation of a female and my reasonable attempt to show her the elements of
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