Red. “People’s Artist of the Inner-Planet Folk Theatre Circuits. A philosopher. We sometimes talk of the good old days as they are referred to by malcontents. This is professor Jonathan Ward, saviour of the Solar System. Maybe.”

Alingmore bowed low. “Very fortunate to meet you, Doctor.”

Alingmore sat the black case on a table and reverently opened it. A make-up kit, complete with plastimold, syntheskin and all the accessories of modern theatre. “He’s a wizard at make-up,” bragged Red. “He passed himself off as a Venusian fishman once, at a Federation Council meeting. Got his artist’s license taken away from him. Now he haunts escapeasies. He’s going to make us look like the scholastic idiots on the floor. We’ll use their priorities and passports, and we’ll be on Mars with the Sol. What do you think of ‘Hounds of the Void’ now?”

“I can’t think very clearly,” murmured Ward, sitting down heavily on the pneumatic couch. “Maybe it was the satho....”

In a matter of moments Ward found himself aboard the Sol, ensconced in a special stateroom with quartzite observation dome. He was looking at a face in the three-dim reflector that resembled Professor Limerick more than Professor Limerick himself. “I don’t believe it,” he said to the taxidriver who now could have passed for the assistant’s zygote twin.

“Sure, we made it. Knew we would, Doc.” He was sprawled out on the richly furnished gravnod bed, reading a ragged museum copy of the “Hounds of the Void.” “These Guards and officials don’t know how to deal with antisocials. Not enough cases in our tired order to keep them in practice. A few old time gangsters and criminals could take over the whole System in a jiffy. These representatives of Solar law and order are phonies.”

Ward turned. “But the Mo-Sanshon aren’t so naive, Red. They know I’m aboard. My disguise probably doesn’t fool them. They know I’ve got the cage of mercenaries with me, too.” Ward looked at the plasticage on the floor among many other cases. It contained numerous air valves and was about a yard square. It was very heavy for its size but was easily carried because of the levitation plate on the bottom. From inside of it came a steady rustling and stirring.

Ward nodded. “The Mo-Sanshon will keep on trying every means they can within apparently legitimate channels to stop me before I can release those mercenaries inside their subterranean chasms. And that won’t be easy for us, either. I was there four years and 

 Prev. P 7/24 next