Part 16 (1/2)

”Grubbers? What are grubbers?”

The enormity of the question stopped Krannon, it seemed impossible that there could be a man alive who had never heard of grubbers. Happiness lifted some of the gloom from his face as he realized that he had a captive audience who would listen to his troubles.

”Grubbers are traitors--that's what they are. Traitors to the human race and they ought to be wiped out. Living in the jungle. The things they do with the animals--”

”You mean they're people ... Pyrrans like yourself?” Jason broke in.

”Not like _me_, mister. Don't make that mistake again if you want to go on living. Maybe I dozed off on guard once so I got stuck with this job.

That doesn't mean I like it or like them. They stink, really stink, and if it wasn't for the food we get from them they'd all be dead tomorrow.

That's the kind of killing job I could really put my heart into.”

”If they supply you with food, you must give them something in return?”

”Trade goods, beads, knives, the usual things. Supply sends them over in cartons and I take care of the delivery.”

”How?” Jason asked.

”By armored truck to the delivery site. Then I go back later to pick up the food they've left in exchange.”

”Can I go with you on the next delivery?”

Krannon frowned over the idea for a minute. ”Yeah, I suppose it's all right if you're stupid enough to come. You can help me load. They're between harvests now, so the next trip won't be for eight days--”

”But that's after the s.h.i.+p leaves--it'll be too late. Can't you go earlier?”

”Don't tell me your troubles, mister,” Krannon grumbled, climbing to his feet. ”That's when I go and the date's not changing for you.”

Jason realized he had got as much out of the man as was possible for one session. He started for the door, then turned.

”One thing,” he asked. ”Just what do these savages--the grubbers--look like?”

”How do I know,” Krannon snapped. ”I trade with them, I don't make love to them. If I ever saw one, I'd shoot him down on the spot.” He flexed his fingers and his gun jumped in and out of his hand as he said it.

Jason quietly let himself out.

Lying on his bunk, resting his gravity-weary body, he searched for a way to get Krannon to change the delivery date. His millions of credits were worthless on this world without currency. If the man couldn't be convinced, he had to be bribed. With what? Jason's eyes touched the locker where his off-world clothing still hung, and he had an idea.

It was morning before he could return to the food warehouse--and one day closer to his deadline. Krannon didn't bother to look up from his work when Jason came in.

”Do you want this?” Jason asked, handing the outcast a flat gold case inset with a single large diamond. Krannon grunted and turned it over in his hands.

”A toy,” he said. ”What is it good for?”

”Well, when you press this b.u.t.ton you get a light.” A flame appeared through a hole in the top. Krannon started to hand it back.

”What do I need a little fire for? Here, keep it.”

”Wait a second,” Jason said, ”that's not all it does. When you press the jewel in the center one of these comes out.” A black pellet the size of his fingernail dropped into his palm. ”A grenade, made of solid ulranite. Just squeeze it hard and throw. Three seconds later it explodes with enough force to blast open this building.”

This time Krannon almost smiled as he reached for the case. Destructive and death-dealing weapons are like candy to a Pyrran. While he looked at it Jason made his offer.