A First Glimpse And Other Science Fiction Classics by Raymond Z. Gallun

Author:Raymond Z. Gallun [Gallun, Raymond Z.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sci Fi & Fantasy
Publisher: Renaissance E Books
Published: 2009-03-26T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 2

TAKEOFF

That pal of mine didn't stop with a letter of application to Northcross. He had another angle. He kissed his latest light of love goodbye. She was a cute little trick from Frisco. Love is always a little brutal, I suppose. This tourist girl had to go home anyway.

With my dough, Skip bought himself a natty coverall – the kind of glamorous but business-like rig that spacemen in the chips wear during time off. And he hung around the Nine Planets, the best hotel in Copernicus City. There he played old tunes softly – almost to himself.

Sure he was setting a trap. Why would a guy go after a hard-faced mannish girl like Gregg Northeross' niece, Roxy Ames, except for a materialistic motive? I'd never known Skip to be cold-blooded before.

"You make nice music.'

I was present when at last Roxy Ames smiled at Skip, and offered this comment from halfway across the lobby. The funny thing was that then she didn't look hard-faced at all. Just young, blond, athletic and pretty. A little luxury had melted the strain of hair-trigger living out of her.

Skip got up, bowed and said, "Thank you, Miss."

I scrammed, unobtrusively, but it didn't help. When I saw Skip a couple of hours later at my small hotel, there was something desperate and sick in his eyes.

"Maybe I worked too fast, Don," he growled. "She's smart. She was amused. I was like a kid. My ace card is no good. What'll I do now, Don?"

"You got me, pal," I answered with sympathy.

I could imagine Roxy's gray eyes taking on a glint of ice and laughter – one that no wolf could meet without feeling silly, "Poor Skip."

Ten Earth-days later I got a letter. I had an interview with Northeross' right-hand man, Mel Peters. His doctor looked me over. When I left I had a paper saying that I was hired as a minerals expert for the second flight of the Centaur in about three weeks. Sheer dumb luck.

No – Skip didn't take to drink. I would have felt better if he had. He was burning out his brains for a way to get a berth on that star-globe. It was pathetic – almost as though part of his own soul would die if he couldn't go out to Proxima Centauri – and those twin planets. Here was the one thing that he had ever wanted to do with all his heart.

Sure, I would have given him my job – if he had been qualified to fill it and if Mel Peters had agreed. I even risked getting fired to talk to Peters about Skip.

Mel Peters shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry," he told me, "but we've even been hoping that more crew members would quit – so that they could be replaced by real experts. As it is there are many we'd like to sign up but can't find room for."

Skip had even thought of buying a job from a crewman. I would have lent him the money for this – probably.

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