The major was scowling. “You mean that Avalon has a surplus of columbium?”
“Not Avalon herself, but her sister planet of Catalina. They’ll work out a deal between them. They can supply your industries with an almost unlimited quantity of either niobite ore or ingots of columbium.”
“I don’t know anything about titanium or columbium.”
Guy said reasonably, “No one would expect you to. I suggest you allow me to land, in spite of the minor error on my visa, and consult with your engineers. Your earthside embassy issued me a visa. You don’t think they’re a bunch of flats, do you?”
The major made a quick decision. “Minythyia, get back to the boat and report all this to headquarters. Get instructions.”
Minythyia left. The major turned back to Rex Ravelle. She gestured with a thumb at Guy. “Get all this cloddy’s gear out and let’s take a look at it.”
“The Captain is waiting up—”
“I’ll go talk to the Captain. Clete and Lysippe can check his things. I don’t like this. Something smells like curd about it.”
Rex said, “Happy, take the major to the skipper’s quarters. On the way, tell a couple of the boys to bring all Citizen Thomas’ things to the salon here.”
“Practically all of it’s in my cabin,” Guy said unhappily. “I’ve got only one footlocker in the luggage hold.”
“All of it,” the major rasped. “No matter what instructions I get from the port, nothing leaves this ship we haven’t checked. And I mean checked.” She glared at her two underlings, who had meanwhile returned to the food and drinks. Earthside food, Guy had decided, must be a treat for them. They ate like troopers. Well, he supposed they were troopers, in a way.
The major began to follow Happy Harrison. She said over her shoulder to Pat, “Go on back to your quarters. We’ll let you know.”
The check of Guy Thomas’ possessions was as thorough as it could possibly have been. Indeed it was carried to the point of the ludicrous. Aside from going over every article of clothing, through every book and pamphlet, toilet articles, personal items of jewelry and such, Lysippe and Clete seemed to have several types of detectors unknown to either Guy or Rex Ravelle. When a bag a trunk was empty, they slowly went over it with their gadgets, seeking out, the two men supposed, secret compartments, hidden devices, or whatever.
While the two Amazonians searched, Rex looked at Guy questioningly. “About this stage of the game, I’d call it quits,” he said. “What’re you so keen to go to Amazonia for? After they’d given me this amount of gruff, I’d stick right on this old kettle and return to Earth.”
Guy closed his eyes in anguish, as Clete shuffled through his once neatly packed shirts.
“I can’t go back,” he said plaintively. “I’ve got to pull this assignment off. It’s the first time I’ve been able to swing an interplanetary job. You think you spacemen are the only ones with the dream? The rest of us, back on Earth, are just as keen as you are to participate in the big explosion out to the stars. Nine men out of ten would give their right arms for an interspace job.”
“Yeah, I know,” Rex nodded, his voice gruff. Although he was talking to Guy, he was eyeing the Amazon Lysippe with appreciation. These girls improved in appearance considerably as you grew used to them. This Lysippe, for example, had a figure beneath her uniform that any mopsie back on Earth would have been proud to display in one of those new bottomless bathing suits, out on the beach.
Guy was saying, “This is my chance. If I pull this off, I’ll get other over-space assignments. I’ve just got to make good.”
Clete looked up from her search and growled to Guy, “What’s this?”
Guy said, “My tool kit.”
“Jetsam! You think I’m a flat?”
“What’s the matter?” Guy said plaintively. He and Rex approached.
The girl warrior had opened the kit. She gestured. “That’s a shooter. What does a mining engineer, or whatever you’re supposed to be, need with a shooter?”
“What’s a shooter?” Guy complained. “That?” He pulled it from the case. “Just because it’s got a pistol grip? That’s a combination drill and cutter.”
He flicked a stud and took an edge off the corner of one of the messhall tables. The invisible beam cut through the metal like cheese.
“Hey!” Rex protested. “Next you’ll be drilling a hole through the hull.”
“All right, all right,” Clete growled. “Put it back. What’s this?”
Guy said plaintively, “Would you know if I told you? Are you up on the tools we use in assaying and…”
“Don’t be so stute,” she snapped at him. “These look like explosive charges.”
He groaned. “I keep telling you. I’m here to check the possibilities of exchanging ores or ingots of titanium for columbium. I have to assay. How do you extract ores on this planet, with eyebrow tweezers?”
She looked at him coldly.
He went on. “These are mini-chargers, for sample blasting, yes. I doubt if I’ll have need of them. Confiscate them if you want. How about my pocket knife? You want that too?”
“You looking for trouble, Sweetie?” Her eyes were level on his.
“Oh, leave him alone,” Lysippe grumbled. “The poor boy’s got to have tools, doesn’t he? Imagine using a man for a mining engineer.” She looked at Guy in honest inquiry. “Doesn’t it upset you to get your nice soft hands all dirty?”
Rex chuckled.
“No,” Guy said. “Besides, I’m not a mining engineer. I’m an expediter. I…oh, Zen. Forget about it. I’ll explain when I meet your people down on Amazonia.”
Lysippe said interestedly, “You really figure on landing, do you?”
“Of course.”
Clete chuckled, as she continued the minute search of his effects. “You better look out for Minythia,” she grinned.
“What’s Minythyia?” Guy said.
“Not what, who,” the girl who had demonstrated her knife throwing prowess laughed. “Our buddy who went back to the pilot boat to report and ask for instructions on you and that Pat O’Gara kid. She hasn’t any husband.”
Lysippe took Guy in again. “I might take you on myself, Honeybun.”
“You’ve got a couple of men,” Clete said.
“Ummm. But I kind of like these effeminate types.”
“Effeminate!” Guy bleated.
Rex had still been eyeing Lysippe. It came to him that he’d been in space a long time.
He put out a hand experimentally, and ran it along the girl’s arm which was bare from shortly below her shoulder where her leather-like jerkin terminated in a short sleeve, to a trio of heavy golden bracelets on her wrist.
“Just how effeminate do you have to be to…” he began.
But her response had been instantaneous. Those heavy bracelets were not mere decoration. In fact, they turned out to be a rare combination of brass knuckles and blackjack when competently used.
She backhanded him, sending him asprawl. She stepped closer, as he tried to stagger to his feet and cut loose with her right hand, the fingers gathered and pointed so as to be spearlike, toward his solar plexus.
“Artimis!” Clete yelled at her. “Easy! You’ll hurt the poor boy.”
Lysippe pulled her punch, albeit growling.