Monster of Metelaze by E. C. Tubb

Author:E. C. Tubb [Tubb, E. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science fiction
ISBN: 9780575107755
Publisher: DAW Books
Published: 2011-09-29T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

NINE

The tower soared three hundred feet into the air, a graceful lattice of thin girders and cross beams, swelling at the summit into a flat platform at the center of which rose a hemisphere of dull gray metal. Huts were clustered at the base among a litter of debris, cases, packing materials, discarded containers, equipment left to rust. Sure signs of hasty construction.

Saratov grunted as he studied the mess. Engineering should be neat, tidy, with a place for every tool and every tool in its place. He hated slipshod working and dirt; such things were a certain guide to bad workmanship.

At his side Lamin whispered, “Can you see anything, Penza?”

“No.”

“Not even the guards?”

“They’ll be inside in the warm.” Saratov adjusted the binoculars. He, Lamin, and a dozen others were crouched on the slope of the hill on which the tower had been built. “No workers,” he mused. “Not even a maintenance gang. How come?”

“This tower’s finished and they need every man they can get to complete the others.” Lamin shifted nervously. “Are you sure about what you said? The boys won’t like it if they return empty-handed.”

“There’ll be loot,” promised Saratov. “I’m an engineer and I know. Platinum, maybe, copper certainly, some silver, and there could be a crystal of chombite. That alone would be worth a fortune in the right hands—and I know where those hands are to be found.”

“We’ll do the selling,” grunted Lamin. “Anything else?”

“Supplies in the huts. Electronic equipment for sure. And then there’ll be food, weapons, ammunitions cash even. The guards get paid and there’s nothing to spend it on out here. But the real stuff will be in that hemisphere at the top of the tower as I told you.”

“Tell me again.”

Saratov held his temper. Lamin’s friends had turned out to be a gang of thieves using the excuse of patriotism to justify their actions. Or so it seemed. Saratov wasn’t sure he could believe anything. After the escape from the sewer he had been taken to a house where he had bathed, dressed, and ate. A man, hooded, had questioned him. Others had followed, each, by their accent, a little more cultured than the ones previously. The last had smelled of incense.

“Listen,” he said patiently. “How much are each of those units in the towers priced at? A lot, right? So we steal one. We can either break it up or sell it back to the factory. If we only get a quarter of what they charge for it we’ll be in business from now on. Every tower a sitting duck and a ready market for all we get.”

“If they buy it.”

“If they don’t we’ll get rid of them in other ways. Every ship carries a steward on the make. Any engineer will buy components cheap if he gets the chance to make a quick profit. Hell, I’ve known captains who were worse than pirates. All we need is a good connection.” He paused hopefully, but Lamin made no comment. “Have we got one?”

“You talk too much.

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