Rich Living
By MICHAEL CATHAL
Illustrated by MEL HUNTER
[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science FictionFebruary 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that theU.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Curtis Delman was the last to leave the space liner. It was only whenthe Captain entered that he ceased dictating and put down themicrophone. Then, with the clumsy deliberation of the aged, he pressedhome the lid of the recorder and turned the key in the lock. There wasalmost a mile of fine wire in that box—a mile of detailed instruction,compiled over the past four days. For a centenarian, his energy wasprodigious.
The Captain stood respectfully by the door, waiting to be noticed.Delman beckoned him into the suite.
Hat in hand, the Captain walked over to the desk. "I thought you'd liketo know, sir, the rest of the passengers have disembarked." He spokewith deference.
"Good," said Delman. "I shan't delay you more than a few minuteslonger."
"Oh, no delay, I assure you, sir," the Captain replied hastily. "Onlytoo happy to be of service. The crew asked me to thank you on theirbehalf, sir, for your great generosity. It was more than—er—generous."Words seemed to fail him.
"Not at all, Captain," Delman said. "You've all done your best to makethe crossing as comfortable as possible and I'm very grateful to you.Perhaps you'd do one more thing for me on your return—deliver this tomy representative in London." He pointed to the recording machine.
"Certainly, sir."
"Then that takes care of everything." The great lawyer rose creakily tohis feet. Though bent with age, he was still an impressive figure, talland powerfully built, his white hair spilling out over the massiveforehead. "I suppose the press is here?"
"I'm afraid so, sir."
"Well, one can't dodge them on Jupiter. There's no room to move as itis."
The Captain laughed sympathetically. No one knew better than himself thelimitations of the planet. He'd lived here as a child, grown up underthat plastic bubble which Man had built to preserve an atmosphere—twothousand acres of habitable land in a wilderness of millions of squaremiles. It was enough to break the heart of any boy.
Delman stooped to pick up his two heavy canes. The Captain leapedforward and handed them to him. Then lawyer and skipper left the suiteand moved slowly toward the gangway. As they reached the steps, theCaptain broke the silence.
"It's been a privilege to have you on board, sir, and perhaps we mayhope to take you home again on your return from Rejuvenal."
Curtis Delman smiled. "Well, Captain, it's foolhardy for me to plannearly two years ahead, but I hope so, too."
They shook hands.
With a steward supporting him on either side, the ancient lawyer climbedcarefully down the steps.
A spacelines official had thoughtfully provided a chair. He sat down.The usual array of microphones and tele-cameras was grouped around him.Someone appealed for silence. In the hush that followed, only his ownpersuasive voice was heard.
"I have no prepared statement," he said, "but I assume you gentlemenwish to ask me some questions. In that event, I'd just like to stressthat I'm not as young as I used to