When Peer and Channok grappled the derelict
Ra-Twelve, they hooked a death-prize—haunted
by the Yomm, stalked by the Mysterious Nine!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories May 1951.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The celebration of the wedding of Peer and Channok had to be cut alittle short, because a flock of police-boats from Irrek showed up atdetector-range about midway. But it was carried off with a flourishnevertheless.
The oxygen-bubble in the small moon crater was filled with colorfulsolidographs, creating the impression of an outdoor banquet hall. Thebest bands playing in the Empire that night unwittingly contributedtheir efforts, and food and drink were beyond reproach.
Though somewhat dazed throughout, Channok was startled to discoverat one point that the thick carpets on which he stood were a genuinepriceless Gaifornaab weave—and no solidographs either! The eighty-foursmall ships of the space-rat tribe—or voyageurs, as they distinctlypreferred to be called—lined up along the outer edges of the banquethall looked eerily out of place to him; but Peer didn't seem to mind.Her people rarely did go far away from their ships, and the lawless,precarious life they led made that an advisable practice.
It would be up to him now, Channok reflected, beaming down on Peer,to educate her into customs and attitudes more fitting for the wifeof a regular citizen of the Empire and probable future member of theImperial Secret Service—
And then, suddenly, the whole ceremony seemed to be over! A bitpuzzled by the abruptness with which everybody had begun to pack upand leave, Channok was standing beside the ramp of his own ship, theAsteroid—an honest, licensed trader—when Santis strolled over totalk to him. Santis was Peer's father and the pint-sized chieftain ofthe tribe.
"Didn't tell you before, son," he remarked, "because you were alreadynervous enough. But as soon as they finish collapsing the bubble,you'll have about six minutes to get your Asteroid aloft and off thismoon before the cops from Irrek arrive!"
"I heard you, Pop, and everything's packed!" Peer called down from theopen lock of the Asteroid. "Come up and kiss me good-by and we'llseal her up!"
Frowning suspiciously, Channok followed Santis up the ramp. "Why shouldI worry about cops?" he inquired, looking down at the two little peoplewhile they briefly embraced. Peer came about up to his shoulder, thoughperfectly formed, and Santis was an inch or two shorter. The tribedidn't run to bulk. "Nobody's hunting for me!"
"Not yet, son," Santis conceded. He twirled his fierce brownmustache-tips thoughtfully and glanced at Peer.
"If you're passing anywhere near Old Nameless, you might cache thatspecial cargo you're carrying for me there," he told her. "Around thefoot of the Mound. Too bulky for the ships I've got here! Put a dowserplate in with it, and I'll come pick it up with a transport sometime inthe next four months."
"Yes, Pop," said Peer.
"The Fourth Voyageur Fleet will rendezvous at New Gyrnovaan nextTerra-spring. If you can talk this big lug into it, try to make itthere, daughter!"
"We'll be there," promised Peer.
Channok cleared his throat impatiently. Not if he could help it, theywouldn't!
"Those cops are looking for the missing Crown Jewels of Irrek," Santisresumed, looking at him. "After they've opened you up from stem tostern to make sure you're not hiding them, they might apologize. Andagain they might not."
"Hol