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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..08c98f1 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63891 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63891) diff --git a/old/63891-0.txt b/old/63891-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 1032af1..0000000 --- a/old/63891-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,839 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rhizoid Kill, by Jack Bradley - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this ebook. - -Title: The Rhizoid Kill - -Author: Jack Bradley - -Release Date: December 05, 2020 [EBook #63891] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RHIZOID KILL *** - - - - - THE RHIZOID KILL - - By JACK BRADLEY - - _Rhizoids--fabulous gems that harnessed every - brilliant sun of the Galaxy--these were the kill-stones - that sent space rat Mallard racing for the - forbidden swamp belt of Mercury ... into a lurid - land that beckoned the get-rich-quick riff-raff._ - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories November 1952. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -The first half mile into the swamp hadn't been so bad, but now Mallard -began to feel really afraid. There were things in here that no spaceman -had ever seen and against some of them the small blaster on his hip -would be about as effective as a popgun. - -A little way ahead of him, he could dimly see the naked body of the -Mercurian swamp girl and he swore enviously at the way she slipped -through the dense fern growth, her webbed feet gripping the mud firmly. -Once she held up her hand warningly and he slipped down behind a fallen -tree fern to let a huge plant slug glide past. The thing was nearly -forty feet in length and it could move with the speed of an express -train. - -When it was gone, he got up and followed the swamp girl again. He -hugged the helmet to him closer and grinned at the feel of the strange -metal in his hands. That helmet was his one last chance for all the -things he had ever wanted and he would hold on to it as long as he had -life left. With that helmet he could be free of Bill Olger and D'ulio, -the Martian, and go back to Earth with more wealth than a space rat -like himself had ever brought back. It was now, he reflected, one month -from the night he had met them, back in Venusport.... - -Mallard was sitting at a table in the Green Star the night they came -in. Sitting there, drinking Sre, the raw native wine, and wondering if -he could afford another glass of the stuff. He was surrounded by the -riff-raff of the spaceways and his nerves were raw from a week-long -bout with the Sre. - -The two men came in, looked the dingy place over for a moment, then -made directly for his table. They were both big men, the Earth man a -red-haired giant with the cold eyes and the hard, ruthless face of -the space rat. Mallard had come to know plenty of men like him since -he had been kicked out of the Patrol. Hard, bitter men, shrewd and -utterly conscienceless. The Martian beside him he hardly noticed. -His red, skeleton-like face was the typical Martian mask and Mallard -wasted no time trying to form an estimate of him. No Earth man ever -would know what a Martian was like until he'd lived beside him for -years--sometimes not even then. And, anyway, Mallard wasn't too -interested in either of them. Not even when they came over and sat at -his table. - -"I'm Bill Olger," the Earth man began without preliminaries. "This -is my friend, D'ulio, one of the smartest scientists Mars has ever -produced. We know about you. You're George Mallard, owner of the Space -Lark." - -"If you're getting ready to make a touch you can save your breath," -Mallard said sourly. "I haven't got a hundred credits to my name." - -"We're not getting ready to make a touch, Mallard," Olger said. "We're -getting ready to let you in on the chance of a lifetime. Now, do you -want to let us buy you a drink of something decent while we tell you -about it, or would you rather keep on sitting here alone drinking this -slop?" - -Mallard looked from his hard face to the spidery red mask of the -Martian, then shrugged his shoulders and pushed out his empty glass. -Olger beckoned to the Venusian waiter and presently Mallard was sipping -a glass of pale green brandy that soothed his raw nerves like the -almost forgotten touch of an Earth woman's hands. Bill Olger yanked his -chair closer and bent his head over the table. - -"Look, Mallard, I'm not going to beat around the bush with you. I've -kept pretty close tabs on you since you were kicked out of the Patrol -and I know you're at the end of your rope. You've been picked up twice -by the Patrol, on suspicion of piracy and, both times, you got away by -the skin of your teeth. So our proposition is made to order for you, -if you've got as much nerve as I think you have. The proposition is -rhizoids." - -Mallard whistled softly. Rhizoids! Those incredible gems brought back -from the fringes of the impenetrable swamp belt of Mercury. Gems that -grew, layer upon layer, like a pearl growing within an oyster, in the -heart of a fungus shrub that looked like a dead, white stump. There -were less than a dozen of those gems in all the Galaxy and they were -worth upwards of a hundred thousand credits each. - -Mallard had seen one only once and that had been at a distance. It was -worn by a Martian desert queen and he had never forgotten the exquisite -beauty of the thing. Even yards away he could see the sultry fires -imprisoned in that incredible stone and it made every other jewel he -had ever seen look like a piece of cheap cut glass. - -"Sounds very nice, Olger," he said slowly. "There's just one little -catch to it. The fungus stumps where those things grow are loaded with -spores and those spores are the deadliest things in all the System. A -friend of mine, First Mate on the Jupiter run, went on an expedition to -bring back some of those rhizoids a few years back and he told me what -it was like. - -"They wear glassite suits while they're hacking the stumps apart to -get at the rhizoids. The instant one of those stumps is touched it -sends out a fine cloud of spores and when those spores settle down on -a glassite suit it looks like the man was covered by hoar frost. They -throw the suits away when they leave the scene. - -"One of the men, this mate said, happened to step on a piece of one of -those stumps, after he'd gotten out of his glassite suit. I got kind of -sick listening to the mate tell about what happened then. Ever see an -Earth wasp sting another insect and then lay its eggs in that insect's -body, Olger? Well, it was like that. The man was paralyzed the minute -the spores settled on him and he started screaming. A couple of minutes -and the spores had paralyzed his vocal chords and after that he stopped -screaming. He--well, he just kept screaming with his eyes, the mate -said. They put a blaster to the poor devil's head before they left. - -"That's what those spores are like, Olger, and I don't want any part of -them, thanks. I don't mind taking a chance on dying from a ray gun but -those rhizoids are only worth a hundred thousand credits apiece and I'd -want a hundred million before I'd take a chance on dying like that." - -"And what if we could show you a chance to make your hundred million?" -Bill Olger asked softly. - -Mallard's fingers tightened around his glass. "I'm listening." - -"You see," Olger began slowly, "the trouble up to now has been that -no one could get those stones out of the fungus stumps unless he was -protected by a cumbersome glassite suit and the swamp belt is too dense -to bring those suits into. That meant they could only pick up a few -they found growing around the rim of the belt. There are rumors that -the natives have found a way to handle the spores but they regard the -fungus as sacred and won't help. - -"But, a couple of years back the Galactic Colonization Board finally -managed to get one of the plants back to Earth. It isn't generally -known but they really did it. They used a low powered force field and -finally worked it into a glassite cage. They kept it quiet because they -lost three of their men getting the thing caged. - -"When they got the fungus stump back to Earth they began to experiment -with it. They started coating white rats with different chemicals and -coverings, or injecting different drugs in them, and then sending them -into the cage with the thing. They used up an awful lot of white rats, -Mallard." - -George Mallard shuddered. "I can believe that." - -"The main thing, though, the thing that matters to us, is that they put -D'ulio, here, in charge of the experiments. And D'ulio had ideas of his -own. He was just out of the Martian University and he just couldn't see -any point in working for Terrans for the rest of his life for a small -salary. - -"The second week D'ulio worked on the fungus stump he discovered -that the spores could be killed as fast as they were released by a -plain, ordinary Overton ray. You remember the old Overton ray gun that -was used in the war against the Martian desert tribes? The gun was -originally meant to be rigged up on a ship but D'ulio made a smaller -model that could be carried by two men and it worked on the spores as -well as a big gun. - -"As soon as D'ulio was sure of his findings he opened the fungus stump, -took out the rhizoid from it, then 'accidentally' burned the stump to a -crisp. He reported that there was no rhizoid inside it. Sometimes they -don't have, you know, just as lots of pearls don't happen to be there -when you open the oyster. He was fired for his carelessness. As soon as -it was safe he contacted me. He knew I had ways of getting rid of the -rhizoid that he didn't have. So, here we are. D'ulio has the equipment -we need. We have the money to finance the expedition--and you have the -ship. What do you say, Mallard?" - -"It would take the best part of fifty thousand credits to get the Space -Lark ready for a trip like that," Mallard said doubtfully. - -"And I've got twice that, right here in my pocket, chum." Bill Olger -reached into his pocket and handed something to Mallard under cover of -the table. Something that was smooth and round and hard. Mallard held -it below the level of the table top and looked. Then he drew in his -breath as sharply as if he had been hit in the stomach. - -At first glance, the thing looked like a large and very perfect Terran -fire opal. But no opal ever gleamed with the unbelievably sultry fires -that lived in this stone. It looked as though every sun of the Galaxy -were imprisoned within its depths. George Mallard looked at the rhizoid -in his hand for a moment longer, then turned to Bill Olger. When he -spoke, his voice was shaky. - -"We can be ready to blast off in forty-eight hours." - - * * * * * - -The Swamp Belt of Mercury! Mallard looked at the almost impenetrable -growth of tangled fern trees and undergrowth and swore wearily. They -had been here for three weeks, now, and it had been three weeks of -pure, unadulterated hell. The dank, steamy air made every breath a -painful effort and, day and night, giant insects made their life -miserable. They could take the miniature Overton ray gun a little way -into the swamp belt but at every step they had to be on the alert for -the great reptiles that floundered through the dense undergrowth. And -even more, for the deadly plant life that lay in wait. - -And always they were under watch from the natives. Scaly-hided men, -not much past the anthropoid stage, but the crude wooden spears they -used could be very dangerous. The Overton ray gun was scaled down to -near zero for use against the fungus stumps but it could be turned up -to full power for its original use as a weapon. And the gun had saved -their lives on more than one occasion when those wooden spears began to -fly past them. It was a tense, miserable life. - -But they did find the rhizoids. Not as many as they had hoped for, -because the Overton gun could be taken into the swamp belt only a -little way, but they found far, far more than had ever been brought out -before. Day after day the tiny hoard of stones grew. Night after night -the three men sat around the cabin of the Space Lark, gloating over -them. At least Bill Olger and the Martian D'ulio did. Only Mallard was -sullen and dissatisfied. Once he put his feelings into words. - -"Look. You two are all steamed up because we've got a handful of these -things. A handful that's got to be divided three ways. Do you know -how long your share's going to last once you hit the bright lights in -Venusport? Well, I'll tell you. A year, two years. Maybe three years -if you're careful. You might be satisfied with that but I'm not. Me, I -want those hundreds of millions we were talking about when we started -this thing. Yes, and if I can figure out some way of getting further -into this damned swamp I'll get them, too." - -Olger looked at him in unconcealed disgust. "I can understand a man -being a bum loser, Mallard, but not a bum winner. You know that we've -already gone as far into the swamp belt as we can with the Overton and -if you think I'm going into that hellhole without the ray gun, you're -crazy. It makes my skin crawl to think of the narrow escapes we've had, -even with it. Be reasonable, fella." - -Mallard nodded glumly. He knew, of course, that Olger was right, but -the nightly sight of the rhizoids, softly gleaming in his hands, was -raising a fever in his brain that would not be stilled. If there was -only some way to establish contact with the natives, maybe get a guide. -He fondled the rhizoid in his fingers and stared thoughtfully at the -sultry fires within its depths. - -The next day he started making overtures to a native girl they had -dubbed Tiny. The natives they had seen flitting about the swamp seemed -to average around seven feet tall but Tiny was not much larger than -an Earth girl. She seemed very young, barely out of her childhood, -although they had no way of knowing the age of these natives. Like -youngsters of any race, she was filled with curiosity and she often -hung around the outskirts of the camp after her tribesmen had been -driven away. - -Mallard set to work winning her confidence the same way he would have -done with a wild animal. The first time she was alone he squatted down -on the ground and made encouraging sounds toward the fern tree behind -which she hid. Then he took a piece of Earth candy from his pocket, -nibbled at it, made sounds of delight, and threw it on the ground -before her. He walked away and when he looked back and saw her pick up -the candy, he knew that he had made a start. In another two days, he -was squatting on the ground, a few feet from her, trying to learn the -rudiments of her language. - -It was no easy task he had set for himself. Her language was a series -of barking consonants that were terribly hard for his Terran vocal -chords to form and her thought processes were so primitive that it was -like trying to talk to a four-year-old child in a strange language. - -But he did progress to the point where he could communicate simple -ideas to her. Then he made the mistake of telling her that he wanted -to find more of the rhizoid bearing fungus. Many, many more of them. -When she understood what he wanted, she ran away and he did not see her -again for nearly a week. - -And when he did see her again it was almost too late for her to be of -any further use to him. He was prospecting alone, that day, Olger and -D'ulio having set out to explore another section of the swamp belt. He -had gone only a little way into the swamp when he saw Tiny struggling, -half mad with fear, in the grip of two burly natives. They were tying -her with vines to a fallen log and another native was coming forward, -carrying something in his arms. - -Suddenly Mallard swore incredulously. The third native was carrying one -of the white fungus stumps in his arms, carrying that deadly thing as -carelessly as he would have carried a stick of wood! And then Mallard -saw that he was wearing a helmet on his head, a metal helmet, ringed by -some sort of crystal stones. The helmet was pouring a protective flood -of soft green light downward, completely covering the native's body. He -seemed unharmed by the green light but the spores from the fungus stump -were shriveling the instant they were touched by the light. - -Mallard leaped forward, then, his blaster spitting wildly. His first -shot brought down the native with the helmet and the other two went -down a moment later. When he rushed forward and took the helmet off the -dead native, Tiny cowered down on the ground, her child eyes rolling -up fearfully at him. Mallard ignored her as he bent his head over the -helmet. - -The thing was made of some purplish metal that was like nothing he -had ever seen anywhere in the System. Certainly it had never been -constructed by these primitive people and Mallard wondered briefly what -alien race from what far distant star had left it here in these fetid -swamps. - -But he was too filled with wild exultation to waste much time in idle -speculation. The thing that mattered was that he now had a really -perfect device for getting out the rhizoids. He alone had it! Let Olger -and D'ulio keep their cumbersome Overton ray gun and squirm around the -edge of the swamp belt with it. With this thing he could go deep inside -the belt and bring out all the rhizoids he could carry. - -And he was savagely determined to keep them when he brought them out. -Let Bill Olger and D'ulio go back with him, carrying a basketful of -those wonderful stones? Why, within hours after they hit Venusport, -half the riff-raff of the space lanes would know about their discovery -and be heading for Mercury. No, when he lifted the Space Lark off -Mercury, Olger and the Martian simply wouldn't be aboard. The thought -of murder raised no particular horror in his brain. He had killed -before. He whirled about and looked down at the cowering native girl. - -"You--belong me--now. You--take me--to these." - -He showed her a couple of the rhizoids. Tiny looked back at the swamp -behind her and whimpered like a beaten puppy just once. Then she nodded -her head slowly. Mallard grinned with satisfaction as he bent down to -cut her loose. - - * * * * * - -The girl led Mallard back into the very heart of the swamp belt. The -journey was sheer nightmare. Hour after hour they plodded on while -Mallard's body was soaked with sweat and his lungs seemed ready to -burst from the steamy air. But the feel of those stones in his pocket -somehow kept him plodding along after the naked girl ahead of him. -Those stones had magic in them. - -It seemed long eons before he saw Tiny come to a halt and looked -fearfully around her. From her evident fright, Mallard guessed she -was in a taboo place. She made a furtive gesture and he hurried up to -her. He reached the spot where she stood and drew in his breath with a -shuddering gasp. - -The swamp had thinned out at this point and there before him was a -whole grove of the white fungus stumps! They stood in serried ranks, -like a yardful of ghosts and Mallard knew that within those white -stumps there was a fortune that no space rat had ever dreamed of before. - -He broke into a stumbling run forward, the girl completely forgotten. -At the edge of the grove he paused only a moment to make sure the -shielding light of the helmet was properly adjusted. Then he swung his -blade down upon one of the white stumps. It split easily and he drew -forth a perfect rhizoid, larger than any they had found so far. For -a moment he held it shakily in his hand. Then he slipped it into the -leather pouch he carried on his belt. - -In little more than an hour Mallard had filled the pouch he carried. He -was working like a madman, now, the sweat pouring from him in torrents, -and he was numb with fatigue but the fever in his brain swept away all -thoughts of stopping. - -He wanted more of these gleaming stones. He wanted to fill his pockets -with them, carry them away in his cupped hands. He was still moving -forward on tottering feet when he heard Tiny scream. He whirled about -savagely, his hand darting to the small blaster at his belt. - -A tangled horde of Mercurian warriors was pouring out of the swamp into -the clearing. Their bestial faces were twisted with rage and their -wooden spears raised menacingly. Even as Mallard turned and sprinted -back, those wooden spears were flying past his head. He ducked down -behind a log, the native girl crouched, whimpering like a puppy, beside -him. - -Mallard put the helmet and the bag of rhizoids down beside him and -began picking off the scaly-hided warriors, one by one. He fired -carefully, anxious to conserve the remaining charges in his small hand -blaster. In his mind was a new dread. - -He knew that, long ago, Bill Olger and the Martian would have returned -to the Space Lark and found him gone. They would immediately set out -looking for him and the sound of this fight would draw them to him. -They must not find him with his pouch full of rhizoids! Never would he -share those stones with any one else, that much he knew. - -Suddenly he saw something that caused him to open his eyes in stark -disbelief. One of the warriors in that milling throng was wearing -another helmet, an exact duplicate of the one lying beside him. And he -was carrying a fragment from one of those deadly fungus stumps in his -hands! Holding it ready to hurl the moment he was close. - -Mallard started to put on his own helmet, then realized that in his -prone position it would not shield him. He let it lie and started -firing more rapidly, trying to reach the wearer of that helmet. He -ducked aside as one of the spears barely missed him and heard a moan of -anguish from the girl beside him. One of the spears had gone into her -side and blood was pouring from the wound. - -From out in the swamp, there was the sound of signal shots, followed -by loud shouts. It was Olger and D'ulio and they were not far away. -Mallard began firing at top speed, now, and the Mercurians fell like -tenpins. The moaning girl beside him he ignored. And then the whole -action exploded into nightmare. - -The Mercurian with the helmet stepped forward and called out a -peremptory command to the girl. And she answered! Snatching up the -pouch of rhizoids, she jumped clear of the log and started hobbling -painfully toward her own people. At the same moment, Mallard saw big -Olger and D'ulio leap out into the clearing, guns drawn. - -For one long moment, Mallard stared in horrified fascination at the -girl carrying away the thing that mattered more than life itself to -him. Then he had leaped clear of the log and was sprinting after her. -As in a slow motion picture, he saw Olger and D'ulio firing into the -tangled mass and saw the helmeted Mercurian warrior raise the fragment -of deadly white fungus. - -For just a split part of a second he started to turn, to jump back and -reach that protective helmet behind the log. But the limping girl was -so close. Only another step. He reached forward for the leather pouch -and the fungus landed directly at his feet! - -A cloud of fine spores lifted up like a puff of smoke and Mallard -felt pain greater than he had ever known man could experience. He -felt himself falling, literally pulled to the ground by the wave of -pain that was tightening every muscle in his body into an individual -agonized knot. From a long way off he heard some one screaming and knew -that it was his own voice. - -Mallard was no longer conscious of the action all around him. True, he -could dimly sense the horde of scaly-hided Mercurians rushing panic -stricken past him and he could hear that monotonous screaming that was -his own voice. But the only thing that really existed for him was the -hundreds of knots of agony in his own paralyzed body. - -The only thing? From the corner of his eyes he could see the pouch of -rhizoids lying almost touching him and he tried to force his agonized -body into one last effort to cover it before he called out to Olger -and the Martian to put the helmet on him. That helmet would stop -the searing pain, yes, but if only he could hold out for one moment -longer--just one moment. Long enough to hide those glorious gems with -his body-- - -He tried and found that he could not move one inch. He gave up the -effort and drew in one last breath to call out to them, to tell them to -put the helmet on him. - -And he could not speak! The poison of the spores had already reached -his vocal chords. - -He was still screaming with his eyes when the others came up to him. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RHIZOID KILL *** - -***** This file should be named 63891-0.txt or 63891-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/8/9/63891/ - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this ebook. - -Title: The Rhizoid Kill - -Author: Jack Bradley - -Release Date: December 05, 2020 [EBook #63891] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RHIZOID KILL *** -</pre> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>THE RHIZOID KILL</h1> - -<h2>By JACK BRADLEY</h2> - -<p><i>Rhizoids—fabulous gems that harnessed every<br /> -brilliant sun of the Galaxy—these were the kill-stones<br /> -that sent space rat Mallard racing for the<br /> -forbidden swamp belt of Mercury ... into a lurid<br /> -land that beckoned the get-rich-quick riff-raff.</i></p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories November 1952.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>The first half mile into the swamp hadn't been so bad, but now Mallard -began to feel really afraid. There were things in here that no spaceman -had ever seen and against some of them the small blaster on his hip -would be about as effective as a popgun.</p> - -<p>A little way ahead of him, he could dimly see the naked body of the -Mercurian swamp girl and he swore enviously at the way she slipped -through the dense fern growth, her webbed feet gripping the mud firmly. -Once she held up her hand warningly and he slipped down behind a fallen -tree fern to let a huge plant slug glide past. The thing was nearly -forty feet in length and it could move with the speed of an express -train.</p> - -<p>When it was gone, he got up and followed the swamp girl again. He -hugged the helmet to him closer and grinned at the feel of the strange -metal in his hands. That helmet was his one last chance for all the -things he had ever wanted and he would hold on to it as long as he had -life left. With that helmet he could be free of Bill Olger and D'ulio, -the Martian, and go back to Earth with more wealth than a space rat -like himself had ever brought back. It was now, he reflected, one month -from the night he had met them, back in Venusport....</p> - -<p>Mallard was sitting at a table in the Green Star the night they came -in. Sitting there, drinking Sre, the raw native wine, and wondering if -he could afford another glass of the stuff. He was surrounded by the -riff-raff of the spaceways and his nerves were raw from a week-long -bout with the Sre.</p> - -<p>The two men came in, looked the dingy place over for a moment, then -made directly for his table. They were both big men, the Earth man a -red-haired giant with the cold eyes and the hard, ruthless face of -the space rat. Mallard had come to know plenty of men like him since -he had been kicked out of the Patrol. Hard, bitter men, shrewd and -utterly conscienceless. The Martian beside him he hardly noticed. -His red, skeleton-like face was the typical Martian mask and Mallard -wasted no time trying to form an estimate of him. No Earth man ever -would know what a Martian was like until he'd lived beside him for -years—sometimes not even then. And, anyway, Mallard wasn't too -interested in either of them. Not even when they came over and sat at -his table.</p> - -<p>"I'm Bill Olger," the Earth man began without preliminaries. "This -is my friend, D'ulio, one of the smartest scientists Mars has ever -produced. We know about you. You're George Mallard, owner of the Space -Lark."</p> - -<p>"If you're getting ready to make a touch you can save your breath," -Mallard said sourly. "I haven't got a hundred credits to my name."</p> - -<p>"We're not getting ready to make a touch, Mallard," Olger said. "We're -getting ready to let you in on the chance of a lifetime. Now, do you -want to let us buy you a drink of something decent while we tell you -about it, or would you rather keep on sitting here alone drinking this -slop?"</p> - -<p>Mallard looked from his hard face to the spidery red mask of the -Martian, then shrugged his shoulders and pushed out his empty glass. -Olger beckoned to the Venusian waiter and presently Mallard was sipping -a glass of pale green brandy that soothed his raw nerves like the -almost forgotten touch of an Earth woman's hands. Bill Olger yanked his -chair closer and bent his head over the table.</p> - -<p>"Look, Mallard, I'm not going to beat around the bush with you. I've -kept pretty close tabs on you since you were kicked out of the Patrol -and I know you're at the end of your rope. You've been picked up twice -by the Patrol, on suspicion of piracy and, both times, you got away by -the skin of your teeth. So our proposition is made to order for you, -if you've got as much nerve as I think you have. The proposition is -rhizoids."</p> - -<p>Mallard whistled softly. Rhizoids! Those incredible gems brought back -from the fringes of the impenetrable swamp belt of Mercury. Gems that -grew, layer upon layer, like a pearl growing within an oyster, in the -heart of a fungus shrub that looked like a dead, white stump. There -were less than a dozen of those gems in all the Galaxy and they were -worth upwards of a hundred thousand credits each.</p> - -<p>Mallard had seen one only once and that had been at a distance. It was -worn by a Martian desert queen and he had never forgotten the exquisite -beauty of the thing. Even yards away he could see the sultry fires -imprisoned in that incredible stone and it made every other jewel he -had ever seen look like a piece of cheap cut glass.</p> - -<p>"Sounds very nice, Olger," he said slowly. "There's just one little -catch to it. The fungus stumps where those things grow are loaded with -spores and those spores are the deadliest things in all the System. A -friend of mine, First Mate on the Jupiter run, went on an expedition to -bring back some of those rhizoids a few years back and he told me what -it was like.</p> - -<p>"They wear glassite suits while they're hacking the stumps apart to -get at the rhizoids. The instant one of those stumps is touched it -sends out a fine cloud of spores and when those spores settle down on -a glassite suit it looks like the man was covered by hoar frost. They -throw the suits away when they leave the scene.</p> - -<p>"One of the men, this mate said, happened to step on a piece of one of -those stumps, after he'd gotten out of his glassite suit. I got kind of -sick listening to the mate tell about what happened then. Ever see an -Earth wasp sting another insect and then lay its eggs in that insect's -body, Olger? Well, it was like that. The man was paralyzed the minute -the spores settled on him and he started screaming. A couple of minutes -and the spores had paralyzed his vocal chords and after that he stopped -screaming. He—well, he just kept screaming with his eyes, the mate -said. They put a blaster to the poor devil's head before they left.</p> - -<p>"That's what those spores are like, Olger, and I don't want any part of -them, thanks. I don't mind taking a chance on dying from a ray gun but -those rhizoids are only worth a hundred thousand credits apiece and I'd -want a hundred million before I'd take a chance on dying like that."</p> - -<p>"And what if we could show you a chance to make your hundred million?" -Bill Olger asked softly.</p> - -<p>Mallard's fingers tightened around his glass. "I'm listening."</p> - -<p>"You see," Olger began slowly, "the trouble up to now has been that -no one could get those stones out of the fungus stumps unless he was -protected by a cumbersome glassite suit and the swamp belt is too dense -to bring those suits into. That meant they could only pick up a few -they found growing around the rim of the belt. There are rumors that -the natives have found a way to handle the spores but they regard the -fungus as sacred and won't help.</p> - -<p>"But, a couple of years back the Galactic Colonization Board finally -managed to get one of the plants back to Earth. It isn't generally -known but they really did it. They used a low powered force field and -finally worked it into a glassite cage. They kept it quiet because they -lost three of their men getting the thing caged.</p> - -<p>"When they got the fungus stump back to Earth they began to experiment -with it. They started coating white rats with different chemicals and -coverings, or injecting different drugs in them, and then sending them -into the cage with the thing. They used up an awful lot of white rats, -Mallard."</p> - -<p>George Mallard shuddered. "I can believe that."</p> - -<p>"The main thing, though, the thing that matters to us, is that they put -D'ulio, here, in charge of the experiments. And D'ulio had ideas of his -own. He was just out of the Martian University and he just couldn't see -any point in working for Terrans for the rest of his life for a small -salary.</p> - -<p>"The second week D'ulio worked on the fungus stump he discovered -that the spores could be killed as fast as they were released by a -plain, ordinary Overton ray. You remember the old Overton ray gun that -was used in the war against the Martian desert tribes? The gun was -originally meant to be rigged up on a ship but D'ulio made a smaller -model that could be carried by two men and it worked on the spores as -well as a big gun.</p> - -<p>"As soon as D'ulio was sure of his findings he opened the fungus stump, -took out the rhizoid from it, then 'accidentally' burned the stump to a -crisp. He reported that there was no rhizoid inside it. Sometimes they -don't have, you know, just as lots of pearls don't happen to be there -when you open the oyster. He was fired for his carelessness. As soon as -it was safe he contacted me. He knew I had ways of getting rid of the -rhizoid that he didn't have. So, here we are. D'ulio has the equipment -we need. We have the money to finance the expedition—and you have the -ship. What do you say, Mallard?"</p> - -<p>"It would take the best part of fifty thousand credits to get the Space -Lark ready for a trip like that," Mallard said doubtfully.</p> - -<p>"And I've got twice that, right here in my pocket, chum." Bill Olger -reached into his pocket and handed something to Mallard under cover of -the table. Something that was smooth and round and hard. Mallard held -it below the level of the table top and looked. Then he drew in his -breath as sharply as if he had been hit in the stomach.</p> - -<p>At first glance, the thing looked like a large and very perfect Terran -fire opal. But no opal ever gleamed with the unbelievably sultry fires -that lived in this stone. It looked as though every sun of the Galaxy -were imprisoned within its depths. George Mallard looked at the rhizoid -in his hand for a moment longer, then turned to Bill Olger. When he -spoke, his voice was shaky.</p> - -<p>"We can be ready to blast off in forty-eight hours."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The Swamp Belt of Mercury! Mallard looked at the almost impenetrable -growth of tangled fern trees and undergrowth and swore wearily. They -had been here for three weeks, now, and it had been three weeks of -pure, unadulterated hell. The dank, steamy air made every breath a -painful effort and, day and night, giant insects made their life -miserable. They could take the miniature Overton ray gun a little way -into the swamp belt but at every step they had to be on the alert for -the great reptiles that floundered through the dense undergrowth. And -even more, for the deadly plant life that lay in wait.</p> - -<p>And always they were under watch from the natives. Scaly-hided men, -not much past the anthropoid stage, but the crude wooden spears they -used could be very dangerous. The Overton ray gun was scaled down to -near zero for use against the fungus stumps but it could be turned up -to full power for its original use as a weapon. And the gun had saved -their lives on more than one occasion when those wooden spears began to -fly past them. It was a tense, miserable life.</p> - -<p>But they did find the rhizoids. Not as many as they had hoped for, -because the Overton gun could be taken into the swamp belt only a -little way, but they found far, far more than had ever been brought out -before. Day after day the tiny hoard of stones grew. Night after night -the three men sat around the cabin of the Space Lark, gloating over -them. At least Bill Olger and the Martian D'ulio did. Only Mallard was -sullen and dissatisfied. Once he put his feelings into words.</p> - -<p>"Look. You two are all steamed up because we've got a handful of these -things. A handful that's got to be divided three ways. Do you know -how long your share's going to last once you hit the bright lights in -Venusport? Well, I'll tell you. A year, two years. Maybe three years -if you're careful. You might be satisfied with that but I'm not. Me, I -want those hundreds of millions we were talking about when we started -this thing. Yes, and if I can figure out some way of getting further -into this damned swamp I'll get them, too."</p> - -<p>Olger looked at him in unconcealed disgust. "I can understand a man -being a bum loser, Mallard, but not a bum winner. You know that we've -already gone as far into the swamp belt as we can with the Overton and -if you think I'm going into that hellhole without the ray gun, you're -crazy. It makes my skin crawl to think of the narrow escapes we've had, -even with it. Be reasonable, fella."</p> - -<p>Mallard nodded glumly. He knew, of course, that Olger was right, but -the nightly sight of the rhizoids, softly gleaming in his hands, was -raising a fever in his brain that would not be stilled. If there was -only some way to establish contact with the natives, maybe get a guide. -He fondled the rhizoid in his fingers and stared thoughtfully at the -sultry fires within its depths.</p> - -<p>The next day he started making overtures to a native girl they had -dubbed Tiny. The natives they had seen flitting about the swamp seemed -to average around seven feet tall but Tiny was not much larger than -an Earth girl. She seemed very young, barely out of her childhood, -although they had no way of knowing the age of these natives. Like -youngsters of any race, she was filled with curiosity and she often -hung around the outskirts of the camp after her tribesmen had been -driven away.</p> - -<p>Mallard set to work winning her confidence the same way he would have -done with a wild animal. The first time she was alone he squatted down -on the ground and made encouraging sounds toward the fern tree behind -which she hid. Then he took a piece of Earth candy from his pocket, -nibbled at it, made sounds of delight, and threw it on the ground -before her. He walked away and when he looked back and saw her pick up -the candy, he knew that he had made a start. In another two days, he -was squatting on the ground, a few feet from her, trying to learn the -rudiments of her language.</p> - -<p>It was no easy task he had set for himself. Her language was a series -of barking consonants that were terribly hard for his Terran vocal -chords to form and her thought processes were so primitive that it was -like trying to talk to a four-year-old child in a strange language.</p> - -<p>But he did progress to the point where he could communicate simple -ideas to her. Then he made the mistake of telling her that he wanted -to find more of the rhizoid bearing fungus. Many, many more of them. -When she understood what he wanted, she ran away and he did not see her -again for nearly a week.</p> - -<p>And when he did see her again it was almost too late for her to be of -any further use to him. He was prospecting alone, that day, Olger and -D'ulio having set out to explore another section of the swamp belt. He -had gone only a little way into the swamp when he saw Tiny struggling, -half mad with fear, in the grip of two burly natives. They were tying -her with vines to a fallen log and another native was coming forward, -carrying something in his arms.</p> - -<p>Suddenly Mallard swore incredulously. The third native was carrying one -of the white fungus stumps in his arms, carrying that deadly thing as -carelessly as he would have carried a stick of wood! And then Mallard -saw that he was wearing a helmet on his head, a metal helmet, ringed by -some sort of crystal stones. The helmet was pouring a protective flood -of soft green light downward, completely covering the native's body. He -seemed unharmed by the green light but the spores from the fungus stump -were shriveling the instant they were touched by the light.</p> - -<p>Mallard leaped forward, then, his blaster spitting wildly. His first -shot brought down the native with the helmet and the other two went -down a moment later. When he rushed forward and took the helmet off the -dead native, Tiny cowered down on the ground, her child eyes rolling -up fearfully at him. Mallard ignored her as he bent his head over the -helmet.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>The thing was made of some purplish metal that was like nothing he -had ever seen anywhere in the System. Certainly it had never been -constructed by these primitive people and Mallard wondered briefly what -alien race from what far distant star had left it here in these fetid -swamps.</p> - -<p>But he was too filled with wild exultation to waste much time in idle -speculation. The thing that mattered was that he now had a really -perfect device for getting out the rhizoids. He alone had it! Let Olger -and D'ulio keep their cumbersome Overton ray gun and squirm around the -edge of the swamp belt with it. With this thing he could go deep inside -the belt and bring out all the rhizoids he could carry.</p> - -<p>And he was savagely determined to keep them when he brought them out. -Let Bill Olger and D'ulio go back with him, carrying a basketful of -those wonderful stones? Why, within hours after they hit Venusport, -half the riff-raff of the space lanes would know about their discovery -and be heading for Mercury. No, when he lifted the Space Lark off -Mercury, Olger and the Martian simply wouldn't be aboard. The thought -of murder raised no particular horror in his brain. He had killed -before. He whirled about and looked down at the cowering native girl.</p> - -<p>"You—belong me—now. You—take me—to these."</p> - -<p>He showed her a couple of the rhizoids. Tiny looked back at the swamp -behind her and whimpered like a beaten puppy just once. Then she nodded -her head slowly. Mallard grinned with satisfaction as he bent down to -cut her loose.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The girl led Mallard back into the very heart of the swamp belt. The -journey was sheer nightmare. Hour after hour they plodded on while -Mallard's body was soaked with sweat and his lungs seemed ready to -burst from the steamy air. But the feel of those stones in his pocket -somehow kept him plodding along after the naked girl ahead of him. -Those stones had magic in them.</p> - -<p>It seemed long eons before he saw Tiny come to a halt and looked -fearfully around her. From her evident fright, Mallard guessed she -was in a taboo place. She made a furtive gesture and he hurried up to -her. He reached the spot where she stood and drew in his breath with a -shuddering gasp.</p> - -<p>The swamp had thinned out at this point and there before him was a -whole grove of the white fungus stumps! They stood in serried ranks, -like a yardful of ghosts and Mallard knew that within those white -stumps there was a fortune that no space rat had ever dreamed of before.</p> - -<p>He broke into a stumbling run forward, the girl completely forgotten. -At the edge of the grove he paused only a moment to make sure the -shielding light of the helmet was properly adjusted. Then he swung his -blade down upon one of the white stumps. It split easily and he drew -forth a perfect rhizoid, larger than any they had found so far. For -a moment he held it shakily in his hand. Then he slipped it into the -leather pouch he carried on his belt.</p> - -<p>In little more than an hour Mallard had filled the pouch he carried. He -was working like a madman, now, the sweat pouring from him in torrents, -and he was numb with fatigue but the fever in his brain swept away all -thoughts of stopping.</p> - -<p>He wanted more of these gleaming stones. He wanted to fill his pockets -with them, carry them away in his cupped hands. He was still moving -forward on tottering feet when he heard Tiny scream. He whirled about -savagely, his hand darting to the small blaster at his belt.</p> - -<p>A tangled horde of Mercurian warriors was pouring out of the swamp into -the clearing. Their bestial faces were twisted with rage and their -wooden spears raised menacingly. Even as Mallard turned and sprinted -back, those wooden spears were flying past his head. He ducked down -behind a log, the native girl crouched, whimpering like a puppy, beside -him.</p> - -<p>Mallard put the helmet and the bag of rhizoids down beside him and -began picking off the scaly-hided warriors, one by one. He fired -carefully, anxious to conserve the remaining charges in his small hand -blaster. In his mind was a new dread.</p> - -<p>He knew that, long ago, Bill Olger and the Martian would have returned -to the Space Lark and found him gone. They would immediately set out -looking for him and the sound of this fight would draw them to him. -They must not find him with his pouch full of rhizoids! Never would he -share those stones with any one else, that much he knew.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he saw something that caused him to open his eyes in stark -disbelief. One of the warriors in that milling throng was wearing -another helmet, an exact duplicate of the one lying beside him. And he -was carrying a fragment from one of those deadly fungus stumps in his -hands! Holding it ready to hurl the moment he was close.</p> - -<p>Mallard started to put on his own helmet, then realized that in his -prone position it would not shield him. He let it lie and started -firing more rapidly, trying to reach the wearer of that helmet. He -ducked aside as one of the spears barely missed him and heard a moan of -anguish from the girl beside him. One of the spears had gone into her -side and blood was pouring from the wound.</p> - -<p>From out in the swamp, there was the sound of signal shots, followed -by loud shouts. It was Olger and D'ulio and they were not far away. -Mallard began firing at top speed, now, and the Mercurians fell like -tenpins. The moaning girl beside him he ignored. And then the whole -action exploded into nightmare.</p> - -<p>The Mercurian with the helmet stepped forward and called out a -peremptory command to the girl. And she answered! Snatching up the -pouch of rhizoids, she jumped clear of the log and started hobbling -painfully toward her own people. At the same moment, Mallard saw big -Olger and D'ulio leap out into the clearing, guns drawn.</p> - -<p>For one long moment, Mallard stared in horrified fascination at the -girl carrying away the thing that mattered more than life itself to -him. Then he had leaped clear of the log and was sprinting after her. -As in a slow motion picture, he saw Olger and D'ulio firing into the -tangled mass and saw the helmeted Mercurian warrior raise the fragment -of deadly white fungus.</p> - -<p>For just a split part of a second he started to turn, to jump back and -reach that protective helmet behind the log. But the limping girl was -so close. Only another step. He reached forward for the leather pouch -and the fungus landed directly at his feet!</p> - -<p>A cloud of fine spores lifted up like a puff of smoke and Mallard -felt pain greater than he had ever known man could experience. He -felt himself falling, literally pulled to the ground by the wave of -pain that was tightening every muscle in his body into an individual -agonized knot. From a long way off he heard some one screaming and knew -that it was his own voice.</p> - -<p>Mallard was no longer conscious of the action all around him. True, he -could dimly sense the horde of scaly-hided Mercurians rushing panic -stricken past him and he could hear that monotonous screaming that was -his own voice. But the only thing that really existed for him was the -hundreds of knots of agony in his own paralyzed body.</p> - -<p>The only thing? From the corner of his eyes he could see the pouch of -rhizoids lying almost touching him and he tried to force his agonized -body into one last effort to cover it before he called out to Olger -and the Martian to put the helmet on him. That helmet would stop -the searing pain, yes, but if only he could hold out for one moment -longer—just one moment. Long enough to hide those glorious gems with -his body—</p> - -<p>He tried and found that he could not move one inch. He gave up the -effort and drew in one last breath to call out to them, to tell them to -put the helmet on him.</p> - -<p>And he could not speak! The poison of the spores had already reached -his vocal chords.</p> - -<p>He was still screaming with his eyes when the others came up to him.</p> - -<pre style='margin-top:6em'> -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RHIZOID KILL *** - -This file should be named 63891-h.htm or 63891-h.zip - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/8/9/63891/ - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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