Deathworld Read online

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  DEATHWORLD

  BY HARRY HARRISON

  Illustrated by van Dongen

  _Some planet in the galaxy must--by definition--be the toughest, meanest, nastiest of all. If Pyrrus wasn't it ... it was an awfully good approximation!_

  Jason dinAlt sprawled in soft luxury on the couch, a large frosty steinheld limply in one hand. His other hand rested casually on a pillow. Thegun behind the pillow was within easy reach of his fingers. In his lineof work he never took chances.

  It was all highly suspicious. Jason didn't know a soul on this planet.Yet the card sent by service tube from the hotel desk had read: _KerkPyrrus would like to see Jason dinAlt_. Blunt and to the point. Hesignaled the desk to send the man up, then lowered his fingers a bituntil they brushed the gun butt. The door slid open and his visitorstepped through.

  _A retired wrestler._ That was Jason's first thought. Kerk Pyrrus was agray-haired rock of a man. His body seemingly chiseled out of flat slabsof muscle. Then Jason saw the gun strapped to the inside of the otherman's forearm, and he let his fingers drop casually behind the pillow.

  "I'd appreciate it," Jason said, "if you'd take off your gun whileyou're in here." The other man stopped and scowled down at the gun as ifhe was seeing it for the first time.

  "No, I never take it off." He seemed mildly annoyed by the suggestion.

  Jason had his fingers on his own gun when he said, "I'm afraid I'll haveto insist. I always feel a little uncomfortable around people who wearguns." He kept talking to distract attention while he pulled out hisgun. Fast and smooth.

  He could have been moving in slow motion for all the difference it made.Kerk Pyrrus stood rock still while the gun came out, while it swung inhis direction. Not until the very last instant did he act. When he did,the motion wasn't visible. First his gun was in the arm holster--then itwas aimed between Jason's eyes. It was an ugly, heavy weapon with apitted front orifice that showed plenty of use.

  And Jason knew if he swung his own weapon up a fraction of an inch morehe would be dead. He dropped his arm carefully and Kerk flipped his owngun back in the holster with the same ease he had drawn it.

  "Now," the stranger said, "if we're through playing, let's get down tobusiness. I have a proposition for you."

  Jason downed a large mouthful from the mug and bridled his temper. Hewas fast with a gun--his life had depended on it more than once--andthis was the first time he had been outdrawn. It was the offhand,unimportant manner it had been done that irritated him.

  "I'm not prepared to do business," he said acidly. "I've come toCassylia for a vacation, get away from work."

  "Let's not fool each other, dinAlt," Kerk said impatiently. "You'venever worked at an honest job in your entire life. You're a professionalgambler and that's why I'm here to see you."

  Jason forced down his anger and threw the gun to the other end of thecouch so he wouldn't be tempted to commit suicide. He _had_ hoped noone knew him on Cassylia and was looking forward to a big kill at theCasino. He would worry about that later. This weight-lifter type seemedto know all the answers. Let him plot the course for a while and seewhere it led.

  "All right, what do you want?"

  * * * * *

  Kerk dropped into a chair that creaked ominously under his weight, anddug an envelope out of one pocket. He flipped through it quickly anddropped a handful of gleaming Galactic Exchange notes onto the table.Jason glanced at them--then sat up suddenly.

  "What are they--forgeries?" he asked, holding one up to the light.

  "They're real enough," Kerk told him, "I picked them up at the bank.Exactly twenty-seven bills--or twenty-seven million credits. I want youto use them as a bankroll when you go to the Casino tonight. Gamble withthem and win."

  They looked real enough--and they could be checked. Jason fingered themthoughtfully while he examined the other man.

  "I don't know what you have in mind," he said. "But you realize I can'tmake any guarantees. I gamble--but I don't always win ..."

  "You gamble--and you win when you want to," Kerk said grimly. "We lookedinto that quite carefully before I came to you."

  "If you mean to say that I cheat--" Carefully, Jason grabbed his temperagain and held it down. There was no future in getting annoyed.

  Kerk continued in the same level voice, ignoring Jason's growing anger."Maybe you don't call it cheating, frankly I don't care. As far as I'mconcerned you could have your suit lined with aces and electromagnets inyour boots. As long as you _won_. I'm not here to discuss moral pointswith you. I said I had a proposition.

  "We have worked hard for that money--but it still isn't enough. To beprecise, we need three billion credits. The only way to get that sum isby gambling--with these twenty-seven million as bankroll."

  "And what do I get out of it?" Jason asked the question coolly, as ifany bit of the fantastic proposition made sense.

  "Everything above the three billion you can keep, that should be fairenough. You're not risking your own money, but you stand to make enoughto keep you for life if you win."

  "And if I lose--?"

  Kerk thought for a moment, not liking the taste of the idea. "Yes--thereis the chance you might lose, I hadn't thought about that."

  He reached a decision. "If you lose--well I suppose that is just a riskwe will have to take. Though I think I would kill you then. The ones whodied to get the twenty-seven million deserve at least that." He said itquietly, without malice, and it was more of a promise than a threat.

  Stamping to his feet Jason refilled his stein and offered one to Kerkwho took it with a nod of thanks. He paced back and forth, unable tosit. The whole proposition made him angry--yet at the same time had afatal fascination. He was a gambler and this talk was like the taste ofdrugs to an addict.

  Stopping suddenly, he realized that his mind had been made up for sometime. Win or lose--live or die--how could he say no to the chance togamble with money like that! He turned suddenly and jabbed his finger atthe big man in the chair.

  "I'll do it--you probably knew I would from the time you came in here.There are some terms of my own, though. I want to know who you are, andwho _they_ are you keep talking about. And where did the money comefrom. Is it stolen?"

  Kerk drained his own stein and pushed it away from him.

  "Stolen money? No, quite the opposite. Two years' work mining andrefining ore to get it. It was mined on Pyrrus and sold here onCassylia. You can check on that very easily. I sold it. I'm the Pyrricambassador to this planet." He smiled at the thought. "Not that thatmeans much, I'm ambassador to at least six other planets as well. Comesin handy when you want to do business."

  Jason looked at the muscular man with his gray hair and worn,military-cut clothes, and decided not to laugh. You heard of strangethings out in the frontier planets and every word could be true. He hadnever heard of Pyrrus either, though that didn't mean anything. Therewere over thirty-thousand known planets in the inhabited universe.

  "I'll check on what you have told me," Jason said. "If it's true, we cando business. Call me tomorrow--"

  "No," Kerk said. "The money has to be won tonight. I've already issued acheck for this twenty-seven million, it will bounce as high as thePleiades unless we deposit the money in the morning, so that's our timelimit."

  With each moment the whole affair became more fantastic--and moreintriguing for Jason. He looked at his watch. There was still enoughtime to find out if Kerk was lying or not.

  "All right, we'll do it tonight," he said. "Only I'll have to have oneof those bills to check."

  Kerk stood up to go. "Take them all, I won't be seeing you again untilafter you've wo
n. I'll be at the Casino of course, but don't recognizeme. It would be much better if they didn't know where your money wascoming from or how much you had."

  Then he was gone, after a bone-crushing handclasp that closed on Jason'shand like vise jaws. Jason was alone with the money. Fanning the billsout like a hand of cards he stared at their sepia and gold faces, tryingto get the reality through his head. Twenty-seven million credits. Whatwas to stop him from just walking out the door with them and vanishing.Nothing really, except his own sense of honor.

  Kerk Pyrrus, the man with the same last name as the planet he camefrom, was the universe's biggest fool. Or he knew just what he wasdoing. From the way the interview had gone the latter seemed the betterbet.

  "He _knows_ I would much rather gamble with the money than steal it," hesaid wryly.

  Slipping a small gun into his waistband holster and pocketing the moneyhe went out.