The Complete Saga of Martin Brand by Raymond A. Palmer

Author:Raymond A. Palmer [Palmer, Raymond A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-10-17T00:00:00+00:00

Ahead of him he saw a brilliantly lighted cafe. Its neon lights proclaimed it as the “Star Club.” Parked in front of it were sleek aero-cabs and several fast, low-slung compression flyers.

Brand nodded to himself.

“There’s where I’ll find some of the big boys. Perfect front for intrigue.”

He turned in at the entrance and was halted by a doorman.

“You can’t go in dressed like that.”

Brand grinned.

“Call the manager,” he said, “unless you’d rather take this ten-spot yourself. I’ve got a little to unload . . .”

The doorman snatched the bill Brand handed him, grinned back, and said, “Sure. The boss’ll understand when I give him the sign. And thanks . . .”

Brand followed a waiter to a small table to one side, seated himself and ordered a drink. Then he sat quietly, listening to the haunting strains of the Lunarian stringed orchestra which was wailing its odd cadences for the dancing of the couples swaying voluptuously on the dance floor.

Lunarian dances were the ultimate in sensuous expression. Brand snorted, and downed his drink in a gulp when it came. The waiter lifted his eyebrows, and Brand ordered another, loudly.

Several men nearby looked at him, studied him a moment.

One of them got up and sauntered over. He was dressed in evening attire, and immaculately groomed, but there was a queer tightness of his suit around the chest, and Brand’s eyes narrowed slightly as the fellow sat down opposite him. There was a shoulder holster under his arm, and a steam-gun in it. There was no mistaking that tell-tale tightness, for Brand.

“Prospector?” queried his guest.

“Of sorts.” Brand shrugged. “Just landed. Thought I’d try my hand at the caves.”

“Bad business, those caves,” said the stranger affably. “Takes a good man to browse around in ’em. Never prospected myself, but I’ve hunted lu-bats in those caves. Incidently, my name’s Ormandy. Saw you down that drink, which is exactly how I feel at the moment. Mind if I join you in the next?”

“Why should I? Maybe you can give me some dope on the caves—that’s worth sharing a drink.”

The waiter arrived, and strangely enough he had the other man’s drink on his tray.

“They know me here,” explained Ormandy. “When I sit down at a table, any table, they stick my drink in front of me.”

“Not a bad thing,” grinned Brand, “saves time.”

He lifted his glass, then held it rigidly in his fingers for a moment. There, behind Ormandy, across the room, was the girl Brand had accosted at the spaceport. There was no mistaking the red sheen of that lovely hair. And once more she was staring at him. This time there was no recognition, just a studied attention that held him motionless with surprise for an instant.

“What’s up?” queried Ormandy. “See a lu-bat?”

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