Space For Hire (Seven For Space) by William F Nolan Read Free Book Online

what it was, so I took it with me back to the launch port."
    "Then what?"
    "Then I stowed it in a palmlocker. Meant to check the thing out later. Like I said, it was damned weird. Had wires and stuff attached to it."
    "I'm sure it's the portable universe transporter they used on me," I said. "Exactly where'd you stow it?"
    "Locker zzz-one-half, lower tier," Sam told me.
    "Ok," I said. "Since we have the same palm pattern I can get it open. I'd better scoot. Wish I could stay on the case with you but I'm overdue back home."
    "I could always use another me if you'd care to drop back after things are settled," he said. "We could be equal partners. Space and Space."
    "Thanks, but I plan to work my own sand pile from here on. Oh, a last question."
    "Which is?"
    "You wouldn't happen to know what kind of experiment doc Umani is cooking up would you?"
    "Nope. I just know this creep named F. is trying to stiff him before he can finish."
    I sighed. "Looks like we both need to learn a lot more. And fast."
    He nodded and shook my hand. "Good hunting, Sam."
    "You too, Sam," I said.
    He looked a little bereft as I walked out the door.
    It's kind of sad, saying goodbye to yourself.

Eight
     
    I'd been right about the metal hat. It was a portable dimensional transporter — and simple enough to operate. No tougher than a kid's toy.
    I set the dial, clamped it on, and attached some wires. Then I pressed a red stud on the side of the hat.
    Zip! I was home. Hatless, naturally, since the thing automatically returned to its parent universe.
    This time, at least, Nicole hadn't croaked. Nor had she taken it on the lam. In fact, when I materialized in her unit she was standing directly above me with a shocked where-the-hell-did-he-come-from expression; the glass of iced bourbon she was holding dropped from her hand.
    "Didn't expect to see me again, did you, chicken?" I snarled the words. I was plenty burned at this broad.
    "Look, Sam, I swear that —"
    I got up and clipped her across the mouth before she could finish whatever new lie she was going to tell me. Then I grabbed the front of her blouse and gave her a good shakeup. Her lush breasts bounced like two vibraballs in a robo game but I wasn't interested in sex at the moment.
    "You either spill what you know or I mess you up a lot," I warned her. My voice was ice. "And I don't mind belting crooked dames that have me sapped and shipped out. So spill."
    "It was my ex-bedmate," she gasped, falling back on the couch.
    "The same one who threatened to kill me. He must have been waiting for us here in the unit, and when you came in he —"
    I gave her another good one across the mouth. "Try again," I snapped. "And this time start with F."
    She whitened, biting her lower lip. Her eyes were fear-glazed. "How — did you know about F.?"
    "You've got a faxletter from him in your trip trunk. Never mind how I found it. Just drop the lies and talk straight."
    "First, may I have another drink?" she asked. "You made me spill my last one."
    I nodded.
    She got up and hipped into the kitchcove. I kept my eye on her.
    "Are you hungry?" she asked.
    "Yeah, now that you mention it, I'm starved. I could use a cheese on wheat, whole grain; hold the butter and mayonnaise, light on the salt, no pepper."
    "Coming up."
    I eased into the couch, keeping her in sight. My bones ached. This unscheduled universe-hopping had taken a lot out of me. And that knockdown battle I'd had with myself in Domehive sure hadn't helped any.
    By the time Nicole returned with the food and drinks I'd vid-checked the Reagan . The coldpacs had arrived safely in Bobble City but when Dr. Umani discovered I wasn't along he'd refused to accept the shipment. Which meant the old geezer had more sense in this universe than he had in some others. Score one for the doc.
    I sent him a vidfax, telling him I was coming back on the next flight with some fresh bodies.
    The cheese-on-wheat was delicious, and I'd taken three hefty bites, washed down with Scotch,