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

snapping it into place. I guess what bugged me most about it was that the damn thing always reminded me of how pudgy I was getting around the breadbasket. I needed more exercise; maybe finding F. would provide it.
    Nicole's faxcard had listed his Jupiter office address as 129 G-Section, Whisker Town — and that's where I headed after landfall. No use playing paddyfoot; I was going right up to F.'s and beard the lion in his den. Providing the lion was at home.
    G-Section was built with future expansion in mind — a midclass nabe of massive spider units, suspended web-fashion from the central citydome. The hollow support cables doubled as tubeways. I took No. 6 and tabbed up slowly toward 129, riding with hundreds of other commuters, a scattering of whom were Martians and fellow-Earthmen. Most were native Jupes, the ambitious little mouse people who made up the bulk of the planet's citizenry.
    "Are you a tourist?" one of the mice asked me. He was hatted, suited and toted a small briefbag — a respectable member of the business community.
    "Nope," I said. "I'm here for other reasons."
    "Having to do with enforcement, I would guess," he piped. "Otherwise, why carry a weapon?"
    Being as small as he was, he could look directly up and see the holstered .38 under my coat.
    "I'm a licensed detective working a case," I said.
    "Oh, how Mickey!"
    In Jupetalk, Mickey meant great or wonderful. It tied in with their religion; they worshipped one called the Big Mouse who came first to Earth way back in the 1920s to prepare the way for universal joy. The Mouse was supposed to have created a benevolent Earthling named Walt Disney as his human spokesman. Before the Great Quake, which knocked out the Old West Coast in 2020, this Walt Disney had — so went the legend — built a giant shrine in honor of the Mouse. In a place they called Anaheim. That was how the Sacred Mouse Book told it. But I wasn't much for religious history. Worshipping some ancient rodent seemed pretty dumb to me.
    "You wouldn't think what I do was so Mickey if you had to do it," I told him. "I hear you mouse folk don't approve of killing."
    "Oh, no," he squeaked, ruffling his neck fur. "The Big Mouse would punish us if we killed. His wrath is genuine and immediate. Yet it is nonetheless exciting, in a perverse manner of speaking, to encounter a bonafide Earth detective. Do you plan on killing anyone here?"
    "Maybe," I admitted. "That depends."
    "Could I watch?" the mouse asked.
    "Hell, no!" I snapped, glaring down at him.
    "Just inquiring," said the mouse. His whiskers twitched apologetically. "I meant no offense."
    I stepped free of the tube, leaving him to continue upward. I was glad to see him go; the little devil asked too many questions. But I admired his gall. Jupes are tiny but they have plenty of gall.
    According to the wallgram, F.'s office was directly ahead, just two tall doors to the left. I tensed, preparing myself for action. My plan was harsh and simple: kick my way inside, .38 in hand, and face F. square-on. If he wasn't there I'd force whoever was there to tell me where I could find him.
    Simple.
    But things didn't quite happen that way. I had my .38 out, facing the tall door, when a swarm of police mice hit me — at least a dozen of them, squeaking furiously and clubbing my ankles with their small nearwood billies.
    I dropped the .38 as pain blazed and exploded up my ankles. Any cop in the System can tell you that a billy on the ankle is damned effective. And a dozen of them, no matter how small, could put the toughest spacer out of action within seconds.
    "You are officially under city-state arrest," one of the copmice informed me. He was a squad leader, with dyed neckfur indicating his rank. Several of the other mice had stun weapons aimed at me. "Do you wish to resist?"
    Rubbing my sore ankles, I told them hell no I didn't wish to resist. This seemed to disappoint the squad leader; I think he would have enjoyed putting me to sleep. He reminded me of