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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..b06af3f --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66189 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66189) diff --git a/old/66189-0.txt b/old/66189-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 48164c8..0000000 --- a/old/66189-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1156 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Zloor for Your Trouble!, by Mack -Reynolds - -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: A Zloor for Your Trouble! - -Author: Mack Reynolds - -Release Date: August 31, 2021 [eBook #66189] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A ZLOOR FOR YOUR -TROUBLE! *** - - - - - - A Zloor For Your Trouble - - By Mack Reynolds - - Prescott stood to make a young fortune if - he could capture a martian zloor--dead or alive! - Was there a catch to it? Only for the hunter!... - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy - January 1954 - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -I was sitting on the cot in the little room at the rear of my -hangarage, where I keep my equipment and most of my trophies, and -cleaning my .257 Roberts when the knock came at the door. It was a -sharp, decisive knock. Then the door opened and I saw Westley Marks for -the first time. It didn't excite me. - -He said, "Mr. Napoleon Prescott?" - -I began to say, "Everybody calls me Nap," but then I didn't. There was -something about this guy that didn't click with me. Say what you will -against snap judgments, I still take my love at first sight and enmity -often the same way. - -For one thing, he gave me the impression of _looking_ for trouble; -he was about six foot two and he had what he obviously thought was -an aristocratic face. His nose was the type that used to be called -Roman--and looked like it'd be a honey to punch. He was dressed like a -million, which didn't particularly impress me either. I'm on the rugged -side myself, red headed and homely to boot. - -He took in the rifle I was cleaning, and his eyebrows went up -questioningly. "Collector?" he asked. Somehow or other he managed to -put over the impression that he thought I didn't have the intellect to -have a hobby. - -"Not exactly," I told him. "This is a tool, not a collector's item." - -There was almost a laugh in his voice now. "You mean you use that relic -in your work?" - -I put the gun down, told myself to take it easy, then said, "They've -made a lot of developments in weapons since this rifle was popular, but -it still has advantages on certain types of jobs. For instance, if I -was after a Kodiac bear, up in the Alaska National Park--" - -He snorted, "I'd take a Bazook-rifle and be sure who came out on top." - -"Sure you would," I told him, "and there wouldn't be enough bear left -to feed your dogs. _I_ usually work for a zoo or a museum; they either -want the animal alive, or in good mounting condition. I admit that -they've got guns now that one man can carry that'd sink one of the old -time battleships; okay, but in my line I seldom need one." - -He didn't like my tone of voice, but he dropped the point and began -looking around for a place to sit. - -I hadn't asked him to sit down, and I didn't now. - -I said, "Was there something I could do for you?" - -"I wanted to hire you for a rather lengthy period," he told me. - -"I'm all booked up for the next six months." - -"This is something rather special." - -"It always is when somebody wants you to cancel a job with a regular -client." - -He didn't like me any better than I liked him, that was obvious. He -said, "This comes under the heading of work for the government." - -I told him, "There are other professional hunters. Some of them nearly -as good as I am." The last was sarcastic. - -"Possibly better," he said, "but none of them are your size." - - * * * * * - -I could feel my face approaching the color of my hair at that one. -"Keep my size out of it," I snapped. I indicated with a thumb a little -statuette on my desk. "The guy my mother named me after was pint size -too. He got along all right." - -He looked over at Bonaparte. "Ummm," he said. "Napoleon was a big name -once--but he's only a bust now." - -"Listen," I told him, "you're asking for a bust yourself. Why don't you -run along? I'm busy." - -He ignored me, found a chair that had nothing but a few magazines on -it, tossed them to the floor and sat down. "Your name was brought up -because you're the smallest professional hunter on Earth. It'd save a -few thousand credits in getting you to Mars and back." - -That stopped me. "What in kert are you talking about?" I growled. - -"The government wants a specimen, at least one, of a zloor." - -"A what?" - -"A zloor," he repeated. "A small Martian animal." - -I scowled at him. "And just why does the government want a zloor?" - -"That's a secret." - -"Okay. I'll tell you another secret. Somebody else can catch the -government a zloor. I've never been off Earth and I haven't any -particular hankering to go now." I picked up the .257 Roberts again and -reached for my oil can. - -He got to his feet, something just this side of a sneer on his face, -and said, "I doubt if you could have got one anyway." - -I said easily, "If anyone else could catch it, I could." - -He reached for the doorknob, "I'd lay a thousand credits against -_that_," he said. He began to leave. - -"Wait a minute, buddy," I snapped. "Are you just sounding off or have -you got a thousand credits you don't care what happens to?" - -He turned and faced me. "I am willing to wager a thousand credits that -you can't capture a zloor." - -"How big are they?" - -"About the size of a rabbit." - -I glowered at him. "They very fast, or very poisonous, or what?" - -He shrugged. "They can't run quite as fast as a common Terran hare, and -I understand they're quite gentle." - -"Then why haven't they been captured?" - -"Among other things, Napoleon," he rolled my name over his tongue as -though he got a big laugh from it, "there have been only a few hundred -persons in all that have gone to Mars. Few of them, to my knowledge, -have been interested in the life forms there. The expense of freight -in space is much too high for Terran zoos to transport Martian life -forms--particularly alive--considering the cost of duplicating in the -space craft the living conditions necessary to--" - -"All right," I snapped, "just a minute." I picked up the viso-phone -and dialed rapidly. In seconds, Jerry Mason's friendly pan lit up the -screen. - -"Listen, Jerry," I said, "Have you ever heard of a Martian zloor?" - -His eyebrows went up. "Sure, what--" - -"Are they particularly fast?" - -"No, of course not. But--" - -"Are they dangerous?" - -He grinned, but he was still puzzled. "I'd say they were about the -least dangerous animal I ever heard of. But, Nap--" - -"Just one more question, Jerry, I'm in a hurry. Do you think I could -catch one?" - -"I can't think of anything you could catch easier." He started to give -one of his short bursts of laughter. "But--" - -"Thanks, Jerry," I told him. "See you later." I snapped off the set and -turned back to Westley Marks. - -"All right, answer just one question and I'll take up that bet of -yours. What's secret about this?" - -"If I tell you, you'll take on the job?" - -"The job, _and_ the thousand credit bet," I grated. - -"Very well. It is suspected that the zloor is an alien life form." - -I stared at him. "Are you around the corner?" I demanded. "Of course -it's an alien life form. Didn't you just say it's a Martian animal?" - -"Ummmm. But some authorities think it is alien to this solar system. -At least they suspect so--that's why the government wants a specimen -to dissect and thoroughly investigate. They haven't the facilities on -Mars, of course, so it will be necessary to bring one back here." - -I still stared at him. "Alien to the solar system? Your roof _must_ be -leaking. How would it get here?" A sudden suspicion hit me. "You mean -it's intelligent? I thought there wasn't any intelligent life forms on -Mars." - -He shook his head. "It's a stupid herbivorous animal." He shot a glance -down at his watch. "The shuttle for the space station leaves in three -hours. Can you make it?" - -I glared at him. "You give me plenty of time, don't you?--I'll make it -all right. But first I want this bet down in writing." - -"Of course," he said smoothly. - - * * * * * - -I had to hustle plenty. The zloor wasn't any bigger than a rabbit, and -I knew that life forms on Mars were in general small, so I took nothing -larger than my little carbine size .22 Hornet, another gun that Westley -Marks probably would have sneered at but which I wouldn't have traded -for all the automatics you could shake a stick at. - -I didn't take much else; no clothes except the shorts I wore when I -climbed into the shuttle rocket for the space station. When Marks said -freight rates in space were high he just wasn't whistling, _Terra -Forever_. I could buy clothes and any other equipment I needed a good -deal cheaper on Mars than the cost of transporting them there would -come to. - -For one thing, when anybody left the colony planet to come back to -Terra, they invariably left behind everything in the way of clothing -and personal equipment; for another, a certain amount of these things -were being manufactured on Mars from native raw materials in an attempt -to escape the murderous space rates. - -After the four G's acceleration had cut off and we were in free fall, -I took the opportunity to read the contract I'd hurriedly signed with -Westley Marks. On thorough reading, the contract didn't seem _too_ bad. -All my expenses to and from Mars were paid by Marks. I also got five -credits a month in the way of salary--no fortune, but average pay for a -Terran worker. If I caught a zloor and brought it back alive, I got a -five hundred credit bonus; if I brought two back alive, a seven hundred -credit bonus. If I brought a dead one back, I got a three hundred -bonus. Westley Marks didn't seem to be interested in getting more than -one dead one since there wasn't any provision for a larger number. - -He'd given me to understand that this job was for the government, but -from the way the contract read I was working for the Marks Enterprises. -That irritated me for a minute or so, but I finally shrugged it off. -He probably had a government contract to secure one of the things. I -still couldn't figure out what his angle was--but I knew there must be -one; too much money was involved to make this a routine assignment such -as I usually work on for the zoos. Evidently Marks ran some sort of an -expediting outfit which took on off-trail contracts. - -At this point I might do a little in the way of describing my trip -to the space station which circles Terra and is used as a take-off -point to Luna and the planets. I might go on and tell of my journey -from there to the space station in orbit about Mars, and then, further -still, of my shuttling down to Fort Mars and my first impressions of -landing there, of the one-sixth gravity, the thin air, the plastic dome -which covers the whole little city. But the trouble is that a hundred -people a lot quicker with a dicto-typer than I am have already done the -job. I'll just leave that part of it and take up with my first contact -with my fellow Terrans on Mars. - -One of the old gags is to the effect that when Greek meets Greek they -start a restaurant. Okay, maybe, but I do know this, that when man in -general starts up a new colony one of the first buildings he puts up is -a bar. - -At any rate, as soon as I was settled at the Biltless Hotel--the name, -of course, is a gag, but the place lived up to it--I made my way to -Sam's. - - * * * * * - -Now, there's something that invariably happens to people who get -around. It's happened to you, if you're one of us. Maybe you're walking -through the Congo Game Preserve, figuring there isn't another man, -white or otherwise, within a hundred kilometers. Suddenly you run into -another party and somebody yells, "Hello Nap! What in kert are you -doing here?" The last time you saw him was in San Francisco. Or maybe -you're doing some solitary drinking in some obscure bar in Guatemala. -The guy next to you looks over and says, "Say, aren't you Nap Prescott, -the brother of--" and, of course, you are. - -Well, that was it. I hadn't any more got up to the bar and told Sam, -"Let me have some of this Martian _woji_ I've been hearing so much -about," when I heard somebody yelp, "It's Nap! I'll be a grinning -_makron_ if it isn't Nap!" - -I turned around and there was Mike Holiday, as big as life and twice as -drunk. - -He waddled his bulk over to me--Mike always waddles when he's -soused--from the table where he'd been sitting. - -"By the Holy Jumping Wodo," he crowed, "I'll bet my left arm you came -to get a zloor." - -I'd been grinning and holding out my hand to clasp his, but that -stiffened me. - -He saw it and began to laugh uproariously. "Another joiner of the -club!" he yelped. "Come on over and meet your fellow members. You got -one of them Westley contracts too?" - -That did it. - -I went over and met the boys. Mike Holiday wasn't the only acquaintance -of mine in Fort Mars. In fact, it was like a convention of the -outstanding professional hunters of Earth. - -They all shouted their greetings, some of them laughing so hard tears -rolled down their cheeks. Evidently they got a big kick every time a -newcomer was added to their ranks. I shook hands with some, but most -were too hilarious to go through the ceremony. - -Blackie Conover yelled, "I'll bet anybody two to one he brought a .22 -Hornet to shoot himself a zloor. Two to one!" - -"Do we look like suckers?" Mike yelled back at him. - -I sank into a chair and took it for awhile. "I can wait," I growled at -them. "Sooner or later somebody'll get around to telling me what goes -on." - -"He can wait, he says," Doughbelly fairly yelped in delight. "Brother, -he ain't just a whistlin' _Terra Forever_, he can wait! Bring on the -woji! Start the initiation!" - - * * * * * - -I woke up in the morning in Mike Holiday's apartment. I groaned and -told myself that I was sworn off of woji for all time.--I didn't know -then that Terra-side liquor sold for ten credits a bottle. - -Mike was grinning down at me. "You'll get used to woji," he said. - -"I should live so long," I moaned. Then I sat up suddenly in the bed. -"You guys wouldn't tell me anything last night," I said. He was still -grinning. "That's part of the initiation into the Zloor Club. What'd'ya -want to know, Nap?" - -I swung my feet over the side of the bed and came to a sitting -position. I groaned and shook my head in an attempt to clear it. - -"What are half the professional hunters I know doing on Mars?" - -He spun a chair around so that the back faced me, and straddled it, his -arms resting on the top rung. "Same thing you are, Nap. Being suckers -for that _makron_ Westley Marks." - -I started to say something there but he interrupted me with a wave of -a hand. "This is what it boils down to. Marks has a contract with some -branch of the government to bring back one or more zloors. And don't -ask me why he doesn't go out and catch one himself--he's tried." - -"He has, eh?" - -"Yeah, he has. Had a whole crew up here. What makes it nice for him is -that he's on a cost plus basis. If he never succeeds, it'll still be -money in his pocket; if he does, he gets a whopping big bonus. Every -time he sends another man up here to take a crack at getting a zloor, -he makes money. No doubt the way he told _you_ the story, you'd think -you were the only one trying." - -I snorted, "He told me I'd been picked because I was the smallest pro -hunter in the game." - -Mike Holiday grinned. "He picked me because I was so big.--I could -stand the rigors of life on Mars, he said." - -"Well, if it's a racket, why doesn't everybody go home on the next -ship?" - -"Probably for the same reason you won't. That sharper made me so sore I -bet him five hundred credits I could catch a zloor." - -"I bet him a thousand," I groaned. - -Mike whistled. "Where'd you ever get a thousand credits, Nap?" - -"I broke into my piggy bank," I growled. "It's every cent I had in the -world." - -"Well, we're all in the same boat. He made bets with all the boys. -If we go back, we lose. As long as we stay here we make five credits -a month, plus expenses.--And, besides, all of us are just conceited -enough to think we can figure out eventually how to get one of the -things home." - -"Now we're getting to the point," I told him. "What's so hard about -catching a zloor?" - -He began to grin again. "Nothing," he said. "And that's all I'll tell -you now. Go out and find the gruesome details yourself." - -I went over to the wash basin and filled the bowl and dipped my head -into the water. I didn't say anything else to him until I'd dried -myself and climbed into my clothes. - -"All right," I said then. "Where do I go to see about getting equipment -and men for an expedition to the zloor country?" - -He laughed. "All you need in the way of equipment is your feet, that -is, besides a plastic oxygen mask when you leave the dome." He pointed -out the window. "Just head for the nearest rocky area, there's lots -of it; you won't have any trouble finding a zloor. In fact, they're -numerous--no natural enemies." - -I scowled at him. "What keeps them down then?" - -"Insufficient forage, I guess. You'll see." - -I picked up my .22 Hornet rifle and started for the door. "No time like -the present to--" I began to say. - -Mike was still grinning in the irritating manner he'd been displaying -ever since the night before. "You won't need that gun," he told me. - -"I'll just take it along anyway," I snapped. - - * * * * * - -After leaving the dome through one of the airlocks, I headed out onto -the surface of Mars, weighted down with my leaded boots, standard -equipment for cutting down some of the effect of the one-sixth gravity -of the planet. - -Over to the westward, possibly three miles away, seemed to be a barren, -rocky area. I knew that Mike Holiday wouldn't have deliberately lied -to me, that was where zloors were to be found. I made my way in that -direction. - -"About the size of a rabbit," I muttered. "And half the hunters on -earth can't bring one back." - -I made the rocky area and found myself a suitable prominence from which -to look around. In less than fifteen minutes, I'd spotted one of the -things. They were about the size of a rabbit all right, and what was -more they looked considerably like one of the earth type rodents--long -ears, nub of a tail. I watched it for some time through the small glass -I'd borrowed from Mike. - -It was evidently eating the bark, and possibly the wood as well, of a -stunted, rugged looking Martian tree which seemed to be growing out of -almost solid rock. - -The boys had said that there were a lot of zloors around so I didn't -have to worry about conversion. I took up the rifle, aimed carefully -through the scope and squeezed the trigger. I was interested, -eventually, in getting a live zloor, but it wouldn't hurt to have a -closer look at one of the things to help me in planning my campaign. - -The gun snapped and I could see the tiny bullet spank into the little -animal's side. I'd got him! - -But something didn't look right. I took up the telescope again and -peered through it. The zloor was still eating. - -That stopped me. I could have sworn that I'd hit it, right amidships. - -I aimed even more carefully this time, for its head, and squeezed -gently. That shot, too, hit dead center. - -But the zloor didn't bother to stop its feeding. - -I sat there a long time staring at it. Finally I snorted inwardly. -Obviously, this was what had been stopping the others--this animal had -some very effective natural body armor. Well--there is more than one -way of skinning a zloor, as well as a cat. - -I picked up the rifle and headed down toward the tree and the animal -that was devouring it, figuring to get as close as possible with the -idea of getting a really good look at the bulletproof beastie. I -wished, now, that I'd brought my .257 Roberts instead of the .22 Hornet. - -At first I was careful in my approach, slipping from cover to -cover; but as I got closer it became evident that the zloor wasn't -particularly timid and that as far as it was concerned I could come as -near as I wanted. - -I stood off about five feet and watched it for a long time. Once it -looked up and over at me, but then went back to the tree in which it -was making a respectable hole. - -I tried once again with the rifle, aiming carefully right behind its -ear. The gun snapped, and the bullet thudded--but the zloor ignored it. - -"Holy Wodo," I snorted. "He's _really_ bulletproof." - -In fact, he was more than just bulletproof. The _shock_ of the impact -of the high powered twenty-two hadn't even bothered him, it wasn't just -a matter of the bullet's inability to penetrate the hide. - -"Well," I told myself. "Let's see just how close I _can_ come before it -runs off." - - * * * * * - -I walked up to him cautiously. He didn't move. In my surprise, I even -prodded him gently with my shoe. He still didn't move. He looked up at -me again, his eyes a wistful yellowish color, then went back to his -meal. - -I shook my head, wondering if I was still suffering from the effects of -the woji binge, or what. This was just too easy--maybe it was a sick -one or something. - -I reached down and grasped it by the ears and started to pick it up. - -Have you ever tried to pick up something and found out it either -weighed considerably more, or was fastened to the floor? That's what -happened to me. With Martian gravity what it is, I figured I'd have a -weight of possibly one earth pound of lift. Instead, I nearly broke my -back--and the zloor still didn't budge. - -I put more pressure to bear, all my strength--and the zloor -complacently went on eating. - -Hands on hips, I stood above the rabbit-like animal and stared at it. - -Finally, I muttered, "More than one way to bring home a zloor," and, -taking my gun by the barrel, I swung it viciously down at the gentle -looking little animal--feeling like a heel as I did it. - -I might have saved my feelings, because two seconds later I was gazing -wide-eyed at the shattered stock of my rifle and the zloor was still -eating away at the tree. - -I tried just one more experiment before I called it a day. I put the -rifle barrel under him and tried to pry him off the ground. The zloor -still ignored me, but the steel barrel bent under the pressure. The -animal hadn't budged. - - * * * * * - -Without knocking, I walked back into Mike Holiday's room. He was lying -stretched out on the bed, his hands behind his head, staring at the -ceiling. - -He didn't need to look at me. He said, "Nap, you are now a full-fledged -member of the zloor club." - -"What does one of those things weigh?" I snapped. - -"Hey, red-head," he grunted, "don't take it out on me, I didn't invent -them. Far as I know, nobody's ever weighed one, but it's been estimated -that they go about five tons here on Mars. Six times that on earth." - -"That's insane!" - -"Sure is. That's why the government wants one so badly. Just isn't -natural for such an animal to develop in the solar system." - -"Or anywhere else!" - -He got up on one elbow and grinned over at me. "The theory is that it's -a life form from some planet belonging to a white dwarf star. Some time -ago a guy named Adams at the Mount Wilson observatory, back on Earth, -estimated that the density of some of the white dwarfs was two thousand -times greater than platinum. I'm not much up on it myself." - -I scowled down at him. "How'd it get here?" - -He was serious now. "That's the reason the government wants one so -badly, Nap. They want to get it to their laboratories and find out -everything they can. There only seems to be one possibility, though." - -"What's that?" - -"If it _is_ alien to the solar system and from a white dwarf's planet, -it might have been brought here deliberately and left as a guinea pig." - -I began to say something there but he held up a hand to stop me. -"Possibly an exploring spaceship from the alien planet was looking for -colony sites. When it got to our solar system it left some of these -animals with the idea of coming back in a few thousand years or so to -see if the zloors were able to adapt themselves to the conditions -existing here." - -I ran my tongue over suddenly dry lips. "You mean that if the zloors -can live in our solar system, then these more intelligent aliens would -figure they could use our sun system for a colonizing project?" - -He nodded. - -"Holy Wodo," I said. "No wonder they want some specimens to work on -back on Earth." - -He relaxed again. "Well, at the rate we're going, it'll be a long time -before earth laboratories ever have the opportunity to mess around with -our pal the zloor." - - * * * * * - -I got a chair and sat down facing him and said seriously, "Mike, brief -me on what you and the other fellows have tried." - -"You don't have to ask. That goes with membership in the club," he -grinned. "Among other things, we've tried building a steel box around -one of them with the idea of putting wheels on it later." - -"That sounds good." - -"Uh huh. The trouble was that when the zloor felt like moving he walked -right through the side of the steel box like you or I'd walk through a -wall of tissue paper." - -"How about poisoning one?" I rapped. "You could get a dead one back a -lot easier than--" - -"They don't poison," he said, "and from what we can figure they're -practically immortal. We have never found a dead one." - -"What'd'ya mean, they don't poison?" - -"Just that. Nap, that animal can eat _anything_ organic and thrive on -it. Evidently, no poison that nature has ever produced affects it. At -least, none of us have been able to dream one up." - -"How about narcotics, something to dope it?" - -He shook his head. "To begin with, some of these Martian plants produce -narcotic effects that make the products of our poppy look like food for -babes; but the zloor takes them in its stride. It's _really_ got a cast -iron stomach. We've never been able to locate anything it won't eat and -enjoy eating." - -I didn't say anything for a long time. Then, "A Bazook-rifle would kill -one." - -"Sure," he said, "and splatter it all around the scenery at the same -time. The laboratories need a _good_ specimen." - -There was another long silence. Finally I said, "Why in the name of -Wodo don't they sink into the ground if they weigh as much as all that?" - -"They would, only they make a point of walking on rock. That must -be one of the things that limits their spreading even more widely. -They have to be able to forage on ground that supports very little -vegetation." - -"You could lift one with a derrick." - -He said, "This is the fifth time I've been through this. Every guy that -Westley Marks sends up here asks the same questions. Sure you could -lift it with a derrick if the derrick was big enough. Do you have any -idea of what it'd cost to bring a derrick of that size to Mars? - -"And that's not the only thing, either. These zloors are gentle as -lambs, but they hate to be confined against their will. That derrick'd -have to have some awfully strong equipment to keep the zloor from -breaking loose and ambling off. There's other angles there, too. -Suppose your derrick did lift him into the shuttle. When you got the -shuttle up to the space station, how'd you move the zloor from the -shuttle to the station and then from the station to the rocket for -Terra?" - -He go up from the bed and went over to a little table to return with a -bottle and a couple of glasses. He poured two drinks and handed me one. -"Here," he said, "you look like you could use a quick one. Have a hair -of a dog that's going to bite kert out of you before you ever leave -Mars." - -I grated, "I could stand the rest of it, but what burns me up is that -_makron_ Westley Marks. Here he is getting rich on the project. Besides -what he makes from the government, he's bet every one of us so much -that we'll all be out our life savings when we go back." - -"Brother Nap, you have said it," Mike Holiday said feelingly. He tilted -the glass to his lips and drank deeply. I was right behind him. - - * * * * * - -It was more than two years later when I walked into the office -of Westley Marks. I noted with pleasure that he still looked as -aristocratic as ever. - -"Ah," he said, "Mr. _Napoleon_ Prescott. As I recall, the last time we -met you objected to my calling your namesake a 'bust.' Don't tell me -that we have an additional bust in--" - -I loved it. I loved every word of it. And he must have seen that I did. - -"What are you grinning about?" he barked. It was the first time I had -seen his poise disturbed. - -"Frankie," I told him, "is at the spaceport right now. Johnny will be -down on the next shuttle. As you can imagine, the shuttle was pretty -well strained to capacity to bring even one at a time. It was no -trouble in space of course, since they were weightless in free fall, -but entering the gravitational--" - -He put his hands on the top of the desk and half came to his feet. His -eyes were wide. "Who are _Frankie_ and Johnny?" - -I feigned surprise. "Frankie and Johnny are sweethearts--a couple of -zloors, in this case. Remember? You sent me for them. I thought a male -and a female would be best." - -He slumped back in his chair. "You aren't lying?" - -I didn't say anything. - -"How ... did you do it?" - -"With peach pits," I said. - -"Peach pits!" - -"Peach pits. They like apricot pits too, and sometimes prune seeds." - -"What in the world are you talking about, Prescott? Have you lost your -mind?" - -I opened the humidor on his desk, took out a cigar, smelled it, bit off -the end, lit it, and took a deep puff before answering him. I settled -down into a comfortable chair and pointed the lighted end of the cigar -in his direction. - -"Between one or the other of us we had tried everything, everything. -I realized finally that it would have to be an entirely different -approach." - - * * * * * - -I took another satisfying drag on the cigar, then went on. "I tried -lettuce, cabbage, corn, string-beans--everything in fact that the -hydroponic tanks on Mars could supply in the way of earth type food. -None of it worked." - -"What in hell are you talking about?" Marks blurted. - -I ignored him. "Finally it came to me. Lettuce and the other vegetables -I offered would be too _light_ for them. I tried walnut hulls and then -peach pits, and that worked like a charm." - -"You must be insane." - -"You don't seem to understand, Marks," I told him. "There was no other -way of getting a zloor on board an earth bound rocket, so I made pets -of a couple of them. They love peach pits--regular delicacy for them." -I added reflectively. "You'd be surprised how well trained I've got -Frankie and Johnny; I'll hate to give them up." - -I tapped the ash of the cigar off on his heavy carpet and said, -"However, business is business. Let's see, by our contract you owe me -five credits for each month I've been gone, plus a seven hundred credit -bonus for bringing back two live zloors, then there's that thousand -credit wager we made." - -He snapped on his inter-office communicator and growled instructions to -his secretary to find whether or not I had brought back two live zloors -in the Mars rocket. We sat there silently while she checked. I puffed -on the cigar with appreciation and dropped the ashes, pointedly, on -the floor. He was irritated, but wouldn't give me the satisfaction of -complaining. - -I knew I was being childish, but I loved it. - -The inter-office communicator buzzed and he listened to his secretary's -report, then reached down into his desk for a checkbook. - -He said while he was writing it, "I'm sure you'll be pleased to know, -Prescott, that in spite of this sum I'm giving you, I'll still make a -considerable profit on this deal." - -I took the check and examined it carefully. - -"Ummm," I told him. "But I wouldn't be very surprised if a good deal of -that profit is going to be melting away." - -"Eh? What do you mean?" he snapped. - -I told him, "The other boys up on Mars are still well equipped with -peach pits. They're all making pets too. The next few rockets from Mars -are going to be loaded with zloors, Westley, old man. You're going to -have a flock of bets to pay off--and, besides that, I'm wondering if -the government is going to want that many zloors. As I understand it, -two is all that they contracted for with you. Of course, you'll have -to pay the boys for them--" - -He didn't say anything as I left, fanning the check to dry it, but he -looked as though he'd met his Waterloo. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A ZLOOR FOR YOUR TROUBLE! *** - -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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. 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. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: A Zloor for Your Trouble!</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Mack Reynolds</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: August 31, 2021 [eBook #66189]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A ZLOOR FOR YOUR TROUBLE! ***</div> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>A Zloor For Your Trouble</h1> - -<h2>By Mack Reynolds</h2> - -<p>Prescott stood to make a young fortune if<br /> -he could capture a martian zloor—dead or alive!<br /> -Was there a catch to it? Only for the hunter!...</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy<br /> -January 1954<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>I was sitting on the cot in the little room at the rear of my -hangarage, where I keep my equipment and most of my trophies, and -cleaning my .257 Roberts when the knock came at the door. It was a -sharp, decisive knock. Then the door opened and I saw Westley Marks for -the first time. It didn't excite me.</p> - -<p>He said, "Mr. Napoleon Prescott?"</p> - -<p>I began to say, "Everybody calls me Nap," but then I didn't. There was -something about this guy that didn't click with me. Say what you will -against snap judgments, I still take my love at first sight and enmity -often the same way.</p> - -<p>For one thing, he gave me the impression of <i>looking</i> for trouble; -he was about six foot two and he had what he obviously thought was -an aristocratic face. His nose was the type that used to be called -Roman—and looked like it'd be a honey to punch. He was dressed like a -million, which didn't particularly impress me either. I'm on the rugged -side myself, red headed and homely to boot.</p> - -<p>He took in the rifle I was cleaning, and his eyebrows went up -questioningly. "Collector?" he asked. Somehow or other he managed to -put over the impression that he thought I didn't have the intellect to -have a hobby.</p> - -<p>"Not exactly," I told him. "This is a tool, not a collector's item."</p> - -<p>There was almost a laugh in his voice now. "You mean you use that relic -in your work?"</p> - -<p>I put the gun down, told myself to take it easy, then said, "They've -made a lot of developments in weapons since this rifle was popular, but -it still has advantages on certain types of jobs. For instance, if I -was after a Kodiac bear, up in the Alaska National Park—"</p> - -<p>He snorted, "I'd take a Bazook-rifle and be sure who came out on top."</p> - -<p>"Sure you would," I told him, "and there wouldn't be enough bear left -to feed your dogs. <i>I</i> usually work for a zoo or a museum; they either -want the animal alive, or in good mounting condition. I admit that -they've got guns now that one man can carry that'd sink one of the old -time battleships; okay, but in my line I seldom need one."</p> - -<p>He didn't like my tone of voice, but he dropped the point and began -looking around for a place to sit.</p> - -<p>I hadn't asked him to sit down, and I didn't now.</p> - -<p>I said, "Was there something I could do for you?"</p> - -<p>"I wanted to hire you for a rather lengthy period," he told me.</p> - -<p>"I'm all booked up for the next six months."</p> - -<p>"This is something rather special."</p> - -<p>"It always is when somebody wants you to cancel a job with a regular -client."</p> - -<p>He didn't like me any better than I liked him, that was obvious. He -said, "This comes under the heading of work for the government."</p> - -<p>I told him, "There are other professional hunters. Some of them nearly -as good as I am." The last was sarcastic.</p> - -<p>"Possibly better," he said, "but none of them are your size."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I could feel my face approaching the color of my hair at that one. -"Keep my size out of it," I snapped. I indicated with a thumb a little -statuette on my desk. "The guy my mother named me after was pint size -too. He got along all right."</p> - -<p>He looked over at Bonaparte. "Ummm," he said. "Napoleon was a big name -once—but he's only a bust now."</p> - -<p>"Listen," I told him, "you're asking for a bust yourself. Why don't you -run along? I'm busy."</p> - -<p>He ignored me, found a chair that had nothing but a few magazines on -it, tossed them to the floor and sat down. "Your name was brought up -because you're the smallest professional hunter on Earth. It'd save a -few thousand credits in getting you to Mars and back."</p> - -<p>That stopped me. "What in kert are you talking about?" I growled.</p> - -<p>"The government wants a specimen, at least one, of a zloor."</p> - -<p>"A what?"</p> - -<p>"A zloor," he repeated. "A small Martian animal."</p> - -<p>I scowled at him. "And just why does the government want a zloor?"</p> - -<p>"That's a secret."</p> - -<p>"Okay. I'll tell you another secret. Somebody else can catch the -government a zloor. I've never been off Earth and I haven't any -particular hankering to go now." I picked up the .257 Roberts again and -reached for my oil can.</p> - -<p>He got to his feet, something just this side of a sneer on his face, -and said, "I doubt if you could have got one anyway."</p> - -<p>I said easily, "If anyone else could catch it, I could."</p> - -<p>He reached for the doorknob, "I'd lay a thousand credits against -<i>that</i>," he said. He began to leave.</p> - -<p>"Wait a minute, buddy," I snapped. "Are you just sounding off or have -you got a thousand credits you don't care what happens to?"</p> - -<p>He turned and faced me. "I am willing to wager a thousand credits that -you can't capture a zloor."</p> - -<p>"How big are they?"</p> - -<p>"About the size of a rabbit."</p> - -<p>I glowered at him. "They very fast, or very poisonous, or what?"</p> - -<p>He shrugged. "They can't run quite as fast as a common Terran hare, and -I understand they're quite gentle."</p> - -<p>"Then why haven't they been captured?"</p> - -<p>"Among other things, Napoleon," he rolled my name over his tongue as -though he got a big laugh from it, "there have been only a few hundred -persons in all that have gone to Mars. Few of them, to my knowledge, -have been interested in the life forms there. The expense of freight -in space is much too high for Terran zoos to transport Martian life -forms—particularly alive—considering the cost of duplicating in the -space craft the living conditions necessary to—"</p> - -<p>"All right," I snapped, "just a minute." I picked up the viso-phone -and dialed rapidly. In seconds, Jerry Mason's friendly pan lit up the -screen.</p> - -<p>"Listen, Jerry," I said, "Have you ever heard of a Martian zloor?"</p> - -<p>His eyebrows went up. "Sure, what—"</p> - -<p>"Are they particularly fast?"</p> - -<p>"No, of course not. But—"</p> - -<p>"Are they dangerous?"</p> - -<p>He grinned, but he was still puzzled. "I'd say they were about the -least dangerous animal I ever heard of. But, Nap—"</p> - -<p>"Just one more question, Jerry, I'm in a hurry. Do you think I could -catch one?"</p> - -<p>"I can't think of anything you could catch easier." He started to give -one of his short bursts of laughter. "But—"</p> - -<p>"Thanks, Jerry," I told him. "See you later." I snapped off the set and -turned back to Westley Marks.</p> - -<p>"All right, answer just one question and I'll take up that bet of -yours. What's secret about this?"</p> - -<p>"If I tell you, you'll take on the job?"</p> - -<p>"The job, <i>and</i> the thousand credit bet," I grated.</p> - -<p>"Very well. It is suspected that the zloor is an alien life form."</p> - -<p>I stared at him. "Are you around the corner?" I demanded. "Of course -it's an alien life form. Didn't you just say it's a Martian animal?"</p> - -<p>"Ummmm. But some authorities think it is alien to this solar system. -At least they suspect so—that's why the government wants a specimen -to dissect and thoroughly investigate. They haven't the facilities on -Mars, of course, so it will be necessary to bring one back here."</p> - -<p>I still stared at him. "Alien to the solar system? Your roof <i>must</i> be -leaking. How would it get here?" A sudden suspicion hit me. "You mean -it's intelligent? I thought there wasn't any intelligent life forms on -Mars."</p> - -<p>He shook his head. "It's a stupid herbivorous animal." He shot a glance -down at his watch. "The shuttle for the space station leaves in three -hours. Can you make it?"</p> - -<p>I glared at him. "You give me plenty of time, don't you?—I'll make it -all right. But first I want this bet down in writing."</p> - -<p>"Of course," he said smoothly.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I had to hustle plenty. The zloor wasn't any bigger than a rabbit, and -I knew that life forms on Mars were in general small, so I took nothing -larger than my little carbine size .22 Hornet, another gun that Westley -Marks probably would have sneered at but which I wouldn't have traded -for all the automatics you could shake a stick at.</p> - -<p>I didn't take much else; no clothes except the shorts I wore when I -climbed into the shuttle rocket for the space station. When Marks said -freight rates in space were high he just wasn't whistling, <i>Terra -Forever</i>. I could buy clothes and any other equipment I needed a good -deal cheaper on Mars than the cost of transporting them there would -come to.</p> - -<p>For one thing, when anybody left the colony planet to come back to -Terra, they invariably left behind everything in the way of clothing -and personal equipment; for another, a certain amount of these things -were being manufactured on Mars from native raw materials in an attempt -to escape the murderous space rates.</p> - -<p>After the four G's acceleration had cut off and we were in free fall, -I took the opportunity to read the contract I'd hurriedly signed with -Westley Marks. On thorough reading, the contract didn't seem <i>too</i> bad. -All my expenses to and from Mars were paid by Marks. I also got five -credits a month in the way of salary—no fortune, but average pay for a -Terran worker. If I caught a zloor and brought it back alive, I got a -five hundred credit bonus; if I brought two back alive, a seven hundred -credit bonus. If I brought a dead one back, I got a three hundred -bonus. Westley Marks didn't seem to be interested in getting more than -one dead one since there wasn't any provision for a larger number.</p> - -<p>He'd given me to understand that this job was for the government, but -from the way the contract read I was working for the Marks Enterprises. -That irritated me for a minute or so, but I finally shrugged it off. -He probably had a government contract to secure one of the things. I -still couldn't figure out what his angle was—but I knew there must be -one; too much money was involved to make this a routine assignment such -as I usually work on for the zoos. Evidently Marks ran some sort of an -expediting outfit which took on off-trail contracts.</p> - -<p>At this point I might do a little in the way of describing my trip -to the space station which circles Terra and is used as a take-off -point to Luna and the planets. I might go on and tell of my journey -from there to the space station in orbit about Mars, and then, further -still, of my shuttling down to Fort Mars and my first impressions of -landing there, of the one-sixth gravity, the thin air, the plastic dome -which covers the whole little city. But the trouble is that a hundred -people a lot quicker with a dicto-typer than I am have already done the -job. I'll just leave that part of it and take up with my first contact -with my fellow Terrans on Mars.</p> - -<p>One of the old gags is to the effect that when Greek meets Greek they -start a restaurant. Okay, maybe, but I do know this, that when man in -general starts up a new colony one of the first buildings he puts up is -a bar.</p> - -<p>At any rate, as soon as I was settled at the Biltless Hotel—the name, -of course, is a gag, but the place lived up to it—I made my way to -Sam's.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Now, there's something that invariably happens to people who get -around. It's happened to you, if you're one of us. Maybe you're walking -through the Congo Game Preserve, figuring there isn't another man, -white or otherwise, within a hundred kilometers. Suddenly you run into -another party and somebody yells, "Hello Nap! What in kert are you -doing here?" The last time you saw him was in San Francisco. Or maybe -you're doing some solitary drinking in some obscure bar in Guatemala. -The guy next to you looks over and says, "Say, aren't you Nap Prescott, -the brother of—" and, of course, you are.</p> - -<p>Well, that was it. I hadn't any more got up to the bar and told Sam, -"Let me have some of this Martian <i>woji</i> I've been hearing so much -about," when I heard somebody yelp, "It's Nap! I'll be a grinning -<i>makron</i> if it isn't Nap!"</p> - -<p>I turned around and there was Mike Holiday, as big as life and twice as -drunk.</p> - -<p>He waddled his bulk over to me—Mike always waddles when he's -soused—from the table where he'd been sitting.</p> - -<p>"By the Holy Jumping Wodo," he crowed, "I'll bet my left arm you came -to get a zloor."</p> - -<p>I'd been grinning and holding out my hand to clasp his, but that -stiffened me.</p> - -<p>He saw it and began to laugh uproariously. "Another joiner of the -club!" he yelped. "Come on over and meet your fellow members. You got -one of them Westley contracts too?"</p> - -<p>That did it.</p> - -<p>I went over and met the boys. Mike Holiday wasn't the only acquaintance -of mine in Fort Mars. In fact, it was like a convention of the -outstanding professional hunters of Earth.</p> - -<p>They all shouted their greetings, some of them laughing so hard tears -rolled down their cheeks. Evidently they got a big kick every time a -newcomer was added to their ranks. I shook hands with some, but most -were too hilarious to go through the ceremony.</p> - -<p>Blackie Conover yelled, "I'll bet anybody two to one he brought a .22 -Hornet to shoot himself a zloor. Two to one!"</p> - -<p>"Do we look like suckers?" Mike yelled back at him.</p> - -<p>I sank into a chair and took it for awhile. "I can wait," I growled at -them. "Sooner or later somebody'll get around to telling me what goes -on."</p> - -<p>"He can wait, he says," Doughbelly fairly yelped in delight. "Brother, -he ain't just a whistlin' <i>Terra Forever</i>, he can wait! Bring on the -woji! Start the initiation!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I woke up in the morning in Mike Holiday's apartment. I groaned and -told myself that I was sworn off of woji for all time.—I didn't know -then that Terra-side liquor sold for ten credits a bottle.</p> - -<p>Mike was grinning down at me. "You'll get used to woji," he said.</p> - -<p>"I should live so long," I moaned. Then I sat up suddenly in the bed. -"You guys wouldn't tell me anything last night," I said. He was still -grinning. "That's part of the initiation into the Zloor Club. What'd'ya -want to know, Nap?"</p> - -<p>I swung my feet over the side of the bed and came to a sitting -position. I groaned and shook my head in an attempt to clear it.</p> - -<p>"What are half the professional hunters I know doing on Mars?"</p> - -<p>He spun a chair around so that the back faced me, and straddled it, his -arms resting on the top rung. "Same thing you are, Nap. Being suckers -for that <i>makron</i> Westley Marks."</p> - -<p>I started to say something there but he interrupted me with a wave of -a hand. "This is what it boils down to. Marks has a contract with some -branch of the government to bring back one or more zloors. And don't -ask me why he doesn't go out and catch one himself—he's tried."</p> - -<p>"He has, eh?"</p> - -<p>"Yeah, he has. Had a whole crew up here. What makes it nice for him is -that he's on a cost plus basis. If he never succeeds, it'll still be -money in his pocket; if he does, he gets a whopping big bonus. Every -time he sends another man up here to take a crack at getting a zloor, -he makes money. No doubt the way he told <i>you</i> the story, you'd think -you were the only one trying."</p> - -<p>I snorted, "He told me I'd been picked because I was the smallest pro -hunter in the game."</p> - -<p>Mike Holiday grinned. "He picked me because I was so big.—I could -stand the rigors of life on Mars, he said."</p> - -<p>"Well, if it's a racket, why doesn't everybody go home on the next -ship?"</p> - -<p>"Probably for the same reason you won't. That sharper made me so sore I -bet him five hundred credits I could catch a zloor."</p> - -<p>"I bet him a thousand," I groaned.</p> - -<p>Mike whistled. "Where'd you ever get a thousand credits, Nap?"</p> - -<p>"I broke into my piggy bank," I growled. "It's every cent I had in the -world."</p> - -<p>"Well, we're all in the same boat. He made bets with all the boys. -If we go back, we lose. As long as we stay here we make five credits -a month, plus expenses.—And, besides, all of us are just conceited -enough to think we can figure out eventually how to get one of the -things home."</p> - -<p>"Now we're getting to the point," I told him. "What's so hard about -catching a zloor?"</p> - -<p>He began to grin again. "Nothing," he said. "And that's all I'll tell -you now. Go out and find the gruesome details yourself."</p> - -<p>I went over to the wash basin and filled the bowl and dipped my head -into the water. I didn't say anything else to him until I'd dried -myself and climbed into my clothes.</p> - -<p>"All right," I said then. "Where do I go to see about getting equipment -and men for an expedition to the zloor country?"</p> - -<p>He laughed. "All you need in the way of equipment is your feet, that -is, besides a plastic oxygen mask when you leave the dome." He pointed -out the window. "Just head for the nearest rocky area, there's lots -of it; you won't have any trouble finding a zloor. In fact, they're -numerous—no natural enemies."</p> - -<p>I scowled at him. "What keeps them down then?"</p> - -<p>"Insufficient forage, I guess. You'll see."</p> - -<p>I picked up my .22 Hornet rifle and started for the door. "No time like -the present to—" I began to say.</p> - -<p>Mike was still grinning in the irritating manner he'd been displaying -ever since the night before. "You won't need that gun," he told me.</p> - -<p>"I'll just take it along anyway," I snapped.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>After leaving the dome through one of the airlocks, I headed out onto -the surface of Mars, weighted down with my leaded boots, standard -equipment for cutting down some of the effect of the one-sixth gravity -of the planet.</p> - -<p>Over to the westward, possibly three miles away, seemed to be a barren, -rocky area. I knew that Mike Holiday wouldn't have deliberately lied -to me, that was where zloors were to be found. I made my way in that -direction.</p> - -<p>"About the size of a rabbit," I muttered. "And half the hunters on -earth can't bring one back."</p> - -<p>I made the rocky area and found myself a suitable prominence from which -to look around. In less than fifteen minutes, I'd spotted one of the -things. They were about the size of a rabbit all right, and what was -more they looked considerably like one of the earth type rodents—long -ears, nub of a tail. I watched it for some time through the small glass -I'd borrowed from Mike.</p> - -<p>It was evidently eating the bark, and possibly the wood as well, of a -stunted, rugged looking Martian tree which seemed to be growing out of -almost solid rock.</p> - -<p>The boys had said that there were a lot of zloors around so I didn't -have to worry about conversion. I took up the rifle, aimed carefully -through the scope and squeezed the trigger. I was interested, -eventually, in getting a live zloor, but it wouldn't hurt to have a -closer look at one of the things to help me in planning my campaign.</p> - -<p>The gun snapped and I could see the tiny bullet spank into the little -animal's side. I'd got him!</p> - -<p>But something didn't look right. I took up the telescope again and -peered through it. The zloor was still eating.</p> - -<p>That stopped me. I could have sworn that I'd hit it, right amidships.</p> - -<p>I aimed even more carefully this time, for its head, and squeezed -gently. That shot, too, hit dead center.</p> - -<p>But the zloor didn't bother to stop its feeding.</p> - -<p>I sat there a long time staring at it. Finally I snorted inwardly. -Obviously, this was what had been stopping the others—this animal had -some very effective natural body armor. Well—there is more than one -way of skinning a zloor, as well as a cat.</p> - -<p>I picked up the rifle and headed down toward the tree and the animal -that was devouring it, figuring to get as close as possible with the -idea of getting a really good look at the bulletproof beastie. I -wished, now, that I'd brought my .257 Roberts instead of the .22 Hornet.</p> - -<p>At first I was careful in my approach, slipping from cover to -cover; but as I got closer it became evident that the zloor wasn't -particularly timid and that as far as it was concerned I could come as -near as I wanted.</p> - -<p>I stood off about five feet and watched it for a long time. Once it -looked up and over at me, but then went back to the tree in which it -was making a respectable hole.</p> - -<p>I tried once again with the rifle, aiming carefully right behind its -ear. The gun snapped, and the bullet thudded—but the zloor ignored it.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"Holy Wodo," I snorted. "He's <i>really</i> bulletproof."</p> - -<p>In fact, he was more than just bulletproof. The <i>shock</i> of the impact -of the high powered twenty-two hadn't even bothered him, it wasn't just -a matter of the bullet's inability to penetrate the hide.</p> - -<p>"Well," I told myself. "Let's see just how close I <i>can</i> come before it -runs off."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I walked up to him cautiously. He didn't move. In my surprise, I even -prodded him gently with my shoe. He still didn't move. He looked up at -me again, his eyes a wistful yellowish color, then went back to his -meal.</p> - -<p>I shook my head, wondering if I was still suffering from the effects of -the woji binge, or what. This was just too easy—maybe it was a sick -one or something.</p> - -<p>I reached down and grasped it by the ears and started to pick it up.</p> - -<p>Have you ever tried to pick up something and found out it either -weighed considerably more, or was fastened to the floor? That's what -happened to me. With Martian gravity what it is, I figured I'd have a -weight of possibly one earth pound of lift. Instead, I nearly broke my -back—and the zloor still didn't budge.</p> - -<p>I put more pressure to bear, all my strength—and the zloor -complacently went on eating.</p> - -<p>Hands on hips, I stood above the rabbit-like animal and stared at it.</p> - -<p>Finally, I muttered, "More than one way to bring home a zloor," and, -taking my gun by the barrel, I swung it viciously down at the gentle -looking little animal—feeling like a heel as I did it.</p> - -<p>I might have saved my feelings, because two seconds later I was gazing -wide-eyed at the shattered stock of my rifle and the zloor was still -eating away at the tree.</p> - -<p>I tried just one more experiment before I called it a day. I put the -rifle barrel under him and tried to pry him off the ground. The zloor -still ignored me, but the steel barrel bent under the pressure. The -animal hadn't budged.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Without knocking, I walked back into Mike Holiday's room. He was lying -stretched out on the bed, his hands behind his head, staring at the -ceiling.</p> - -<p>He didn't need to look at me. He said, "Nap, you are now a full-fledged -member of the zloor club."</p> - -<p>"What does one of those things weigh?" I snapped.</p> - -<p>"Hey, red-head," he grunted, "don't take it out on me, I didn't invent -them. Far as I know, nobody's ever weighed one, but it's been estimated -that they go about five tons here on Mars. Six times that on earth."</p> - -<p>"That's insane!"</p> - -<p>"Sure is. That's why the government wants one so badly. Just isn't -natural for such an animal to develop in the solar system."</p> - -<p>"Or anywhere else!"</p> - -<p>He got up on one elbow and grinned over at me. "The theory is that it's -a life form from some planet belonging to a white dwarf star. Some time -ago a guy named Adams at the Mount Wilson observatory, back on Earth, -estimated that the density of some of the white dwarfs was two thousand -times greater than platinum. I'm not much up on it myself."</p> - -<p>I scowled down at him. "How'd it get here?"</p> - -<p>He was serious now. "That's the reason the government wants one so -badly, Nap. They want to get it to their laboratories and find out -everything they can. There only seems to be one possibility, though."</p> - -<p>"What's that?"</p> - -<p>"If it <i>is</i> alien to the solar system and from a white dwarf's planet, -it might have been brought here deliberately and left as a guinea pig."</p> - -<p>I began to say something there but he held up a hand to stop me. -"Possibly an exploring spaceship from the alien planet was looking for -colony sites. When it got to our solar system it left some of these -animals with the idea of coming back in a few thousand years or so to -see if the zloors were able to adapt themselves to the conditions -existing here."</p> - -<p>I ran my tongue over suddenly dry lips. "You mean that if the zloors -can live in our solar system, then these more intelligent aliens would -figure they could use our sun system for a colonizing project?"</p> - -<p>He nodded.</p> - -<p>"Holy Wodo," I said. "No wonder they want some specimens to work on -back on Earth."</p> - -<p>He relaxed again. "Well, at the rate we're going, it'll be a long time -before earth laboratories ever have the opportunity to mess around with -our pal the zloor."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I got a chair and sat down facing him and said seriously, "Mike, brief -me on what you and the other fellows have tried."</p> - -<p>"You don't have to ask. That goes with membership in the club," he -grinned. "Among other things, we've tried building a steel box around -one of them with the idea of putting wheels on it later."</p> - -<p>"That sounds good."</p> - -<p>"Uh huh. The trouble was that when the zloor felt like moving he walked -right through the side of the steel box like you or I'd walk through a -wall of tissue paper."</p> - -<p>"How about poisoning one?" I rapped. "You could get a dead one back a -lot easier than—"</p> - -<p>"They don't poison," he said, "and from what we can figure they're -practically immortal. We have never found a dead one."</p> - -<p>"What'd'ya mean, they don't poison?"</p> - -<p>"Just that. Nap, that animal can eat <i>anything</i> organic and thrive on -it. Evidently, no poison that nature has ever produced affects it. At -least, none of us have been able to dream one up."</p> - -<p>"How about narcotics, something to dope it?"</p> - -<p>He shook his head. "To begin with, some of these Martian plants produce -narcotic effects that make the products of our poppy look like food for -babes; but the zloor takes them in its stride. It's <i>really</i> got a cast -iron stomach. We've never been able to locate anything it won't eat and -enjoy eating."</p> - -<p>I didn't say anything for a long time. Then, "A Bazook-rifle would kill -one."</p> - -<p>"Sure," he said, "and splatter it all around the scenery at the same -time. The laboratories need a <i>good</i> specimen."</p> - -<p>There was another long silence. Finally I said, "Why in the name of -Wodo don't they sink into the ground if they weigh as much as all that?"</p> - -<p>"They would, only they make a point of walking on rock. That must -be one of the things that limits their spreading even more widely. -They have to be able to forage on ground that supports very little -vegetation."</p> - -<p>"You could lift one with a derrick."</p> - -<p>He said, "This is the fifth time I've been through this. Every guy that -Westley Marks sends up here asks the same questions. Sure you could -lift it with a derrick if the derrick was big enough. Do you have any -idea of what it'd cost to bring a derrick of that size to Mars?</p> - -<p>"And that's not the only thing, either. These zloors are gentle as -lambs, but they hate to be confined against their will. That derrick'd -have to have some awfully strong equipment to keep the zloor from -breaking loose and ambling off. There's other angles there, too. -Suppose your derrick did lift him into the shuttle. When you got the -shuttle up to the space station, how'd you move the zloor from the -shuttle to the station and then from the station to the rocket for -Terra?"</p> - -<p>He go up from the bed and went over to a little table to return with a -bottle and a couple of glasses. He poured two drinks and handed me one. -"Here," he said, "you look like you could use a quick one. Have a hair -of a dog that's going to bite kert out of you before you ever leave -Mars."</p> - -<p>I grated, "I could stand the rest of it, but what burns me up is that -<i>makron</i> Westley Marks. Here he is getting rich on the project. Besides -what he makes from the government, he's bet every one of us so much -that we'll all be out our life savings when we go back."</p> - -<p>"Brother Nap, you have said it," Mike Holiday said feelingly. He tilted -the glass to his lips and drank deeply. I was right behind him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was more than two years later when I walked into the office -of Westley Marks. I noted with pleasure that he still looked as -aristocratic as ever.</p> - -<p>"Ah," he said, "Mr. <i>Napoleon</i> Prescott. As I recall, the last time we -met you objected to my calling your namesake a 'bust.' Don't tell me -that we have an additional bust in—"</p> - -<p>I loved it. I loved every word of it. And he must have seen that I did.</p> - -<p>"What are you grinning about?" he barked. It was the first time I had -seen his poise disturbed.</p> - -<p>"Frankie," I told him, "is at the spaceport right now. Johnny will be -down on the next shuttle. As you can imagine, the shuttle was pretty -well strained to capacity to bring even one at a time. It was no -trouble in space of course, since they were weightless in free fall, -but entering the gravitational—"</p> - -<p>He put his hands on the top of the desk and half came to his feet. His -eyes were wide. "Who are <i>Frankie</i> and Johnny?"</p> - -<p>I feigned surprise. "Frankie and Johnny are sweethearts—a couple of -zloors, in this case. Remember? You sent me for them. I thought a male -and a female would be best."</p> - -<p>He slumped back in his chair. "You aren't lying?"</p> - -<p>I didn't say anything.</p> - -<p>"How ... did you do it?"</p> - -<p>"With peach pits," I said.</p> - -<p>"Peach pits!"</p> - -<p>"Peach pits. They like apricot pits too, and sometimes prune seeds."</p> - -<p>"What in the world are you talking about, Prescott? Have you lost your -mind?"</p> - -<p>I opened the humidor on his desk, took out a cigar, smelled it, bit off -the end, lit it, and took a deep puff before answering him. I settled -down into a comfortable chair and pointed the lighted end of the cigar -in his direction.</p> - -<p>"Between one or the other of us we had tried everything, everything. -I realized finally that it would have to be an entirely different -approach."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I took another satisfying drag on the cigar, then went on. "I tried -lettuce, cabbage, corn, string-beans—everything in fact that the -hydroponic tanks on Mars could supply in the way of earth type food. -None of it worked."</p> - -<p>"What in hell are you talking about?" Marks blurted.</p> - -<p>I ignored him. "Finally it came to me. Lettuce and the other vegetables -I offered would be too <i>light</i> for them. I tried walnut hulls and then -peach pits, and that worked like a charm."</p> - -<p>"You must be insane."</p> - -<p>"You don't seem to understand, Marks," I told him. "There was no other -way of getting a zloor on board an earth bound rocket, so I made pets -of a couple of them. They love peach pits—regular delicacy for them." -I added reflectively. "You'd be surprised how well trained I've got -Frankie and Johnny; I'll hate to give them up."</p> - -<p>I tapped the ash of the cigar off on his heavy carpet and said, -"However, business is business. Let's see, by our contract you owe me -five credits for each month I've been gone, plus a seven hundred credit -bonus for bringing back two live zloors, then there's that thousand -credit wager we made."</p> - -<p>He snapped on his inter-office communicator and growled instructions to -his secretary to find whether or not I had brought back two live zloors -in the Mars rocket. We sat there silently while she checked. I puffed -on the cigar with appreciation and dropped the ashes, pointedly, on -the floor. He was irritated, but wouldn't give me the satisfaction of -complaining.</p> - -<p>I knew I was being childish, but I loved it.</p> - -<p>The inter-office communicator buzzed and he listened to his secretary's -report, then reached down into his desk for a checkbook.</p> - -<p>He said while he was writing it, "I'm sure you'll be pleased to know, -Prescott, that in spite of this sum I'm giving you, I'll still make a -considerable profit on this deal."</p> - -<p>I took the check and examined it carefully.</p> - -<p>"Ummm," I told him. "But I wouldn't be very surprised if a good deal of -that profit is going to be melting away."</p> - -<p>"Eh? What do you mean?" he snapped.</p> - -<p>I told him, "The other boys up on Mars are still well equipped with -peach pits. They're all making pets too. The next few rockets from Mars -are going to be loaded with zloors, Westley, old man. You're going to -have a flock of bets to pay off—and, besides that, I'm wondering if -the government is going to want that many zloors. As I understand it, -two is all that they contracted for with you. Of course, you'll have -to pay the boys for them—"</p> - -<p>He didn't say anything as I left, fanning the check to dry it, but he -looked as though he'd met his Waterloo.</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A ZLOOR FOR YOUR TROUBLE! ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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. 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