A soldier of the Disciplinary Corps hadn't
cracked up in all the years of Captain Morrow's
service. Bronson was the first ... Bronson
who reckoned he was one of the rare beings
who had heard THE CALL from Mars.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories January 1952.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The small cargo rocket was halfway to Venus when Bronson decided itwas time to take it over. He took care of Orlan first. While Orlanslept in his bunk, Bronson hit him behind the ear with an alloy barand killed him instantly. He then dragged him down to the cargo bins.The robot was down there, waiting to be sent out into the highlyradioactive areas of Venus where the valuable stuff was, but where nohuman could go. He dumped Orlan in there. It might be construed as anaccident, but it probably wouldn't matter to Bronson one way or theother.
Bronson then went up the narrow ladder to the control room whereCaptain Morrow sat with his broad back to Bronson, bent over thecharts. He felt slightly nervous now, looking at Morrow's back. Hebrushed the black hair out of his eyes. His long, rather hard facetightened a little.
He eased the neurogun free and said softly, "Morrow, get up and turnaround slowly. I'm taking this ship to Mars instead of Venus."
Morrow did what he was told. The Disciplinary Corps were conditioned tobe amoral and fairly unemotional. But Morrow's gray eyebrows raised.His smooth tanned face twisted. "How unexpected can anything be,Bronson?"
"Get over there," Bronson said. He had figured out the new coursealready, and it took him only a minute to change the present one.
"A Corpsman hasn't cracked up as long as I've been in the Service andthat's a long time, Bronson. What hit you?"
"I don't know. I'm going to Mars, that's all."
"Why?"
"Because there's a death penalty for going there. Maybe becausesomething's there no one's supposed to know about. I found outsomething very interesting, Morrow. The Call comes from there!"
Morrow's eyes widened a little more. But he didn't ask any morequestions. Bronson tied him in his bunk with plastic cord so hewouldn't interfere for a while. He rather liked Morrow, said sentimentbeing unusual for a Corpsman. But that was another of Bronson's deviantcharacteristics that had perplexed him for some time.
By the time the rocket approached Deimos, Morrow expressed somethingthat had seemingly been bothering him. He called Bronson in there andit wasn't an act. He was interested. He wasn't mad, or particularlydisturbed. Just curious and interested.
"What are your plans, Bronson?"
"Land on Deimos and take the auxiliary sled to Mars. I'll havesomething in reserve and can approach Mars with less chance of beingspotted. If there's anything there to spot me. I'll find out."
Morrow nodded. "That's the way I'd have done it. Will you see me againbefore you finish this unbelievable incident?"
"Sure. I'll have to. I wouldn't want to come back to Deimos and findyou'd taken the rocket. Loneliness doesn't appeal to me. I'll be backto kill you. Maybe not the way I did Orlan. Probably in an easier way."
"Thanks," Morrow said.
Bronson felt nothing about having killed Orlan. Why should he? Suchfeeling was reserved for the illiterate masses. And yet, somehow hefelt differently. Orlan had served in the Elimination details andhad been responsible for the killing of a few thousand people. Orlancouldn't have any kick coming even if he could kick.
Bronson got the rocket down and looked out over the airless cold of thero