Robert Silverberg: The Planet Killers

Suddenly the older boy produced a bright curved knife from somewhere in his jacket. The younger boy sprang backward, but not quickly enough; the tall one thrust the knife into his companion’s belly and ripped upward with a killer’s practiced hand. Gardner gasped as the tall boy coolly watched his companion crumple; then the killer turned and trotted away.

A pleasant planet, Gardner thought.

He did not go to the assistance of the boy who had been knifed. There was never any percentage in helping thine enemy to wax strong and smite you. For all he knew, an attempt at help would only bring him a knife-thrust for his troubles. All things considered, he was lucky to have come out of the encounter in one piece.

His earlier qualms were almost completely dissipated now. This was an ugly, brutish world. For the first time, Gardner actually found himself impatient for the completion of the mission.

He began to walk rapidly toward a wide boulevard several blocks distant. He had no further desire to stroll aimlessly in this deserted neighborhood, and perhaps to have to fight for his life every block or two.

He had lost all sense of his direction. He had no idea where he was now in relation to the Lane of Lights, although he could not be more than half a mile from it. Reaching the boulevard, he found it described as Admiral Knairr Parkway; it was more brightly lit than the other streets, and there was still some vehicular traffic. Frowning, Gardner peered into the street, hoping to catch sight of a passing taxi.

Then he saw a box much like a fire-alarm box near him. Translating the Lurioni inscription, he read To Summon Hired Vehicle, Press This Key.

Gardner pressed it. An acknowledging red light went on. He waited.

Some fifteen minutes passed. The light rain continued to drizzle down, and he was getting thoroughly soaked, but there was no help for it. Grimly he stood guard by the taxi call-box, and finally a cab pulled up.

A Lurioni stuck his head out of the front window. “You rang for me?”

hYes.”

Gardner started to enter the cab, but the door remained locked. The cabbie said, “Stand fast there, you! Let me scan you first!”

A hand-scanner buzzed, and only after the taxi driver was satisfied did he allow Gardner to enter. Sinking back in the cushioned interior, Gardner said, “What was that for?”

“The scanning?” The cabbie laughed. “After midnight I’m not required to give a ride to anyone carrying a weapon, Earthman. It’s the law.”

“And if I had been carrying a weapon?”

“I would have driven on. I’ve been in this business twenty years, and I’m not minded toward suicide. Where to, Earth-man?”

“Nichantor Hotel, South City.”

The cabbie swore. “That’s a long trip for such an hour.”

“I can’t help it. That’s where I’m staying.”

For one uneasy moment, Gardner thought that the cabbie was going to dump him out and leave him to his own devices, but, to the Earthman’s great relief, the cab began to move.

They traveled in silence. When, nearly an hour later, the cab came to a halt in front of the hotel, the cabbie turned round and said, “Four units-twenty, ser Earthman.”

“It only cost me three and ten to make the trip in the other direction,” Gardner muttered, suspecting he was being fleeced.

“Double charge after midnight,” the cabbie retorted. The door was locked, and would remain locked until Gardner paid. Reluctantly, Gardner surrendered a five-unit piece and the door opened.

“May you sleep well, ser Earthman.”

“Thanks,” Gardner growled.

He entered the hotel, going past a drowsy-looking night clerk, and went up to his room. He stripped off his soggy clothes and spread them out to dry. Then, for the second time that evening, he climbed into bed and closed his eyes.

But sleep, which had taken him so quickly that first time hours before, now refused to come. Gardner lay awake, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the distant trickle of water in the pipes, hearing the creak of a bed on the floor above him, the faint cough of his neighbor on the other side of the thin wall.

The night’s events remained with him: the meeting with Smee, the dance, the raid, the encounter in the streets, the interchange of words with the taxi driver. It had been a very long evening, and an instructive one. He felt he understood Lurion. It was a world in which all of Earth’s faults had been carried to an extreme of brutality, selfishness, and evil, and where the virtues of Terran civilization did not appear to have taken root. So far, in his brief time here, Gardner had seen no indication of a flourishing, -healthy art or religion or ethical structure. The architecture was chaotic and hodgepodge, the music harsh and ugly, the people coarse, brutish.

Finally Gardner slept. But he was awakened early by the sound of people moving about, of chambermaids singing ribaldly as they thumped their way down the halls, of other tenants slamming their doors as they went down to breakfast. Gardner looked at his watch and saw that he had slept only five hours.

He rose nevertheless, showered and shaved, and was out of his room within three quarters of an hour. As he affixed the seal to his door, the chambermaid wandered by and said,

“What are you doing?”

“Locking my room.”

“How am I supposed to get in and clean?”

“You aren’t,” Gardner said. “I’ll be responsible for cleaning my own room. You don’t mind that, do you?”

“Just so long as you okay it with the management, I don’t. But when they come to me and ask how come I haven’t cleaned your room, and you say nothing about locking me out—”

“Don’t worry. I’ll defend you.”

“How do 1 know? Maybe you just want to trick me out of my job?”

Gardner sighed. He handed the girl a two-unit piece as a token of his honesty, and headed for the liftshaft. Doesn’t anyone trust anybody on this accursed world! he wondered.

It didn’t look that way. He rode down to the hotel dining room and breakfasted on an uneasy collection of mangled vegetables floating in a thin, vinegary oil. It was all he could do to get the stuff down, but he managed to eat it all. He was not developing any love for Lurioni cooking. He wondered how Smee had been able to stand it for six months.

After breakfast, Gardner set out to peddle his wares. If he had ostensibly come to Lurion as a jewel-merchant, he would have to work at his trade, unless he wanted to risk getting into trouble. The Lurioni authorities might just be checking on all newcomers, for unspecified reasons, and he wanted to coyer himself.

The local jewel merchants’ exchange was some five or six blocks from his hotel, which is why that hotel had been chosen for him. As in all cities on all humanoid worlds, jewel traders tended to concentrate in one crowded district, hawking their wares at each other out on the -street, exposing palmsful of pearls and rubies and emeralds to the highest bidder. Gardner carried his little pouch of merchandise in his bosom.

The jewels, he knew, would have to be very carefully managed. He had to spin his supply out to last at least the three weeks, arid possibly a good deal more. He had the usual six-month visa, but he dreaded the thought of spending an indefinite amount of time with no occupation to keep his mind away from the project.

He entered the bourse, which lined both sides of a narrow street for several blocks.. Stern-looking Lurioni police, no doubt well paid by the jewel merchants’ association here, stood guard.

The first step was to find an Earthman. Again, it was protective camouflage; a newly-arrived Terran would be expected to seek out a professional comrade from his home world.