by Perry Rhodan
"Wh... what...?"
Graybound turned. "Taking them back tomorrow.
That stuff's not worth handling." He stood there for a moment, waiting.
"Perhaps you don't believe me? You want to make a check?"
But instead of waiting for an answer he turned and went on.
"So where's the little woman...?" squawked Torero on his shoulder. He added a shrill whistle. "Yeah, where's the little..."
"Shut your mouth!" bellowed Graybound while completely ignoring several idle workmen nearby.
Instead of taking a taxi he went on foot across the peripheral area of the spaceport. He wanted the feel of good, solid ground under his feet. The feel of the Earth. The sky was blue and the warm rays of the sun made him open up the worn jacket of his uniform.
Then he began to hum an old favorite tune and Torero accompanied him with an odd parrot whistling.
Thus Graybound marched along the edge of the world's greatest spaceport, satisfied with himself and the universe.
But a watching officer of the Port Security Section was making a side remark about him to his sergeant. "Well, there's old Graybound, back again. I'm wondering when they'll lift his license. Men like him don't belong in space. The very idea, walking around like that with a crazy parrot! Ha! If he ever runs into Perry Rhodan he'll have a shock in store for him! The Chief isn't as lenient as we are..."
And the sergeant nodded, eager to please his superior.
But Graybound continued unconcernedly. In time with his tune he kicked a rock ahead of him, fondly imagining that the stone was a certain Mr. Behnken.
Or maybe even Col. Bamboozle.
Or any other supercilious stuffed-shirt...
VAGABOND OF SPACE
Copyright © 1976
Ace Books
All Rights Reserved
THE SHIP OF THINGS TO COME
HE felt the hot, glowing beam of the thermo-gun as it hissed close past his skull. He threw himself to one side and fell as he did so, but he rolled once and then sprang to his feet. He wasn't far now from the door. The Springer had lost precious seconds since it was hard for him to believe that any of the Terrans would seriously attempt an escape. His first shot bad been wild because of his surprise. The second one, however, would be closer and effective.
Richard knew that he was lost if the door turned out to be one with stubborn hinges that would take him more time to open than it would for the Springer to get a clear shot at him. Nevertheless he kept on going. He had to make it. He realized in the moment that the Ghamese and the Springer appeared in the square that no other Terrans would know about the crash of the lifeboat on Ghama if at least one of the survivors couldn't manage to get out of the submarine city and reach the Terran base.
Once in the hands of a Springer, a Terran could give up hope of ever being free again!
The next thrilling adventure—
"Action: Division 3" by Kurt Mahr