Chapter Four
The street was deserted except for the three Hadjis, who stood abouttwenty yards away, conversing quietly. As Barrent came through thedoorway, two of the men moved back; the third, his sidearm negligentlylowered, stepped forward. When he saw that Barrent was armed he quicklybrought his gun into firing position.
Barrent flung himself to the ground and pressed the trigger of hisunfamiliar weapon. He felt it vibrate in his hand, and saw the Hadji'shead and shoulders turn black and begin to crumble. Before he could takeaim at the other men, Barrent's gun was wrenched violently from hishand. The Hadji's dying shot had creased the end of the muzzle.
Desperately Barrent dived for the gun, knowing he could never reach itin time. His skin pricked in expectation of the killing shot. He rolledto his gun, still miraculously alive, and took aim at the nearestHadji.
Just in time, he checked himself from firing. The Hadjis had holsteredtheir weapons. One of them was saying, "Poor old Draken. He simply couldnot learn to take quick aim."
"Lack of practice," the other man said. "Draken never spent much time onthe firing range."
"Well, if you ask me, it's a very good object lesson. One mustn't getout of practice."
"And," the other man said, "one mustn't underestimate even a peon." Helooked at Barrent. "Nice shooting, fellow."
"Yes, very nice indeed," the other man said. "It's difficult to fire ahandgun accurately while in motion."
Barrent got to his feet shakily, still holding the girl's weapon,prepared to fire at the first suspicious movement from the Hadjis. Butthey weren't moving suspiciously. They seemed to regard the entireincident as closed.
"What happens now?" Barrent asked.
"Nothing," one of the Hadjis said. "On Landing Day, one kill is all thatany man or hunting party is allowed. After that, you're out of thehunt."
"It's really a very unimportant holiday," the other man said. "Not likethe Games or the Lottery."
"All that remains for you to do," the first man said, "is to go to theRegistration Office and collect your inheritance."
"My _what_?"
"Your inheritance," the Hadji said patiently. "You're entitled to theentire estate of your victim. In Draken's case, I'm sorry to say, itdoesn't amount to very much."
"He never was a good businessman," the other said sadly. "Still, it'llgive you a little something to start life with. And since you've made anauthorized kill--even though a highly unusual one--you move upward instatus. You become a Free Citizen."
People had come back into the streets, and shopkeepers were unlockingtheir steel shutters. A truck marked BODY DISPOSAL UNIT 5 drove up, andfour uniformed men took away Draken's body. The normal life of Tetrahydehad begun again. This, more than any assurances from the Hadjis, toldBarrent that the moment for murder was over. He put the girl's weapon inhis pocket.
"The Registration Office is over this way," one of the Hadjis told him."We'll act as your witnesses."
Barrent still had only a limited understanding of the situation. Butsince things were suddenly going his way, he decided to accept whateverhappened without question. There would be plenty of time later to findout where he stood.
Accompanied by the Hadjis, he went to the Registration Office onGunpoint Square. There a bored clerk heard the entire story, producedDraken's business papers, and pasted Barrent's name over Draken's.Barrent noticed that several other names had been pasted over. Thereseemed to be a fast turnover of businesses in Tetrahyde.
He found that he was now the owner of an antidote shop at 3 BlazerBoulevard.
The business papers also officially recognized Barrent's new rank as aFree Citizen. The clerk gave him a ring of status, made of gunmetal, andadvised him to change into Citizen's clothing as soon as possible if hewished to avoid unpleasant incidents.
Outside, the Hadjis wished him luck. Barrent decided to see what his newbusiness was like.
* * * * *
Blazer Boulevard was a short alley running between two streets. Near themiddle of it was a store front with a sign which read: ANTIDOTE SHOP.Beneath that it read: _Specifics for every poison, whether animal,vegetable, or mineral. Carry our handy Do It Yourself Survival Kit.Twenty-three antidotes in one pocket-sized container!_
Barrent opened the door and went in. Behind a low counter he sawceiling-high shelves stocked with labeled bottles, cans and cartons, andsquare glass jars containing odd bits of leaves, twigs, and fungus. Inback of the counter was a small shelf of books with titles like _QuickDiagnosis in Acute Poisoning Cases_; _The Arsenic Family_; and _ThePermutations of Henbane_.
It was quite obvious that poisoning played a large part in the dailylife of Omega. Here was a store--and presumably there were others--whosesole purpose was to dispense antidotes. Barrent thought about this anddecided that he had inherited a strange but honorable business. He wouldstudy the books and find out how an antidote shop was run.
The store had a back apartment with a living room, bedroom, and kitchen.In one of the closets, Barrent found a badly made suit of Citizen black,into which he changed. He took the girl's weapon from the pocket of hisprison ship uniform, weighed it in his hand for a moment, then put itinto a pocket of his new suit. He left the store and found his way backto the Victim's Protective Society.
* * * * *
The door was still open, and the three ragged men were still sitting onthe bench. They weren't laughing now. Their long wait seemed to havetired them. At the other end of the room, Mr. Frendlyer was seatedbehind his desk, reading through a thick pile of papers. There was nosign of the girl.
Barrent walked to the desk, and Frendlyer stood up to greet him.
"My congratulations!" Frendlyer said. "Dear fellow, my very warmestcongratulations. That was a splendid bit of shooting. And in motion,too!"
"Thank you," Barrent said. "The reason I came back here--"
"I know why," Frendlyer said. "You wished to be advised of your rightsand obligations as a Free Citizen. What could be more natural? If youtake a seat on that bench, I'll be with you in--"
"I didn't come here for that," Barrent said. "I want to find out aboutmy rights and obligations, of course. But right now, I want to find thatgirl."
"Girl?"
"She was sitting on the bench when I came in. She was the one who gaveme the gun."
Mr. Frendlyer looked astonished. "Citizen, you must be laboring under amisapprehension. There has been no woman in this office all day."
"She was sitting on the bench near those three men. A very attractivedark-haired girl. You must have noticed her."
"I would certainly have noticed her if she had been here," Frendlyersaid, winking. "But as I said before, no woman has entered thesepremises today."
Barrent glared at him and pulled the gun out of his pocket. "In thatcase, how did I get this?"
"I lent it to you," Frendlyer said. "I'm glad you were able to use itsuccessfully, but now I would appreciate its return."
"You're lying," Barrent said, taking a firm grip on the weapon. "Let'sask those men."
He walked over to the bench with Frendlyer close behind him. He caughtthe attention of the man who had been sitting nearest the girl and askedhim, "Where did the girl go?"
The man lifted a sullen, unshaven face and said, "What girl you talkingabout, Citizen?"
"The one who was sitting right here."
"I didn't notice nobody. Rafeel, you see a female on this bench?"
"Not me," Rafeel said. "And I been sitting here continuous since tenthis morning."
"I didn't see her neither," the third man said. "And I got sharp eyes."
Barrent turned back to Frendlyer. "Why are you lying to me?"
"I've told you the simple truth," Frendlyer said. "There has been nogirl in here all day. I lent you the gun, as is my privilege asPresident of the Victim's Protective Society. I would now appreciate itsreturn."
"No," Barrent said. "I'm keeping the gun until I find the girl
."
"That might not be wise," Frendlyer said. He hastily added, "Thievery, Imean, is not condoned under these circumstances."
"I'll take my chances on that," Barrent said. He turned and left theVictim's Protective Society.
The Status Civilization Page 4