Space For Hire (Seven For Space) by William F Nolan
Authors: William F Nolan
Tags: Science-Fiction
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a miniature Sergeant O'Malley.
They quick-marched me back into the tube and we headed for ground level. All twelve of the stern-eyed mice kept their weapons centered on me all the way to the bottom.
Outside the building they had a police vancab waiting. It was a surface vehicle, and large enough to carry Earthlings.
"To enter," directed the squad leader, waving his stungun at me.
I climbed inside, feeling a little ridiculous, and the dozen armed mice joined me for the trip to HQ. The squad leader sat next to the driver, holding my .38 on his lap in a giant zipsack. The gun was larger than he was which made things a bit awkward for him.
Mouse Headquarters was an odd jumble of flat white windowless cubes in a dizzying variety of sizes. If you were a giraffe head from Oberon they had a very tall cube for you; if you were round and squat, as were the slugbellies from Callisto, they had a wide cube to fit; if you were Earthsize they used yet another special cube designed for humans.
I was impressed.
They took away my contra-grav belt after I was seated. My body suddenly seemed gross and massive. Under the crushing pull of Jupiter's raw gravity it took immense effort simply to raise my arm.
The mouse in charge of questioning sat down at a tiny desk facing me. The desk was on a raised platform in line with my nose.
"I'm Police Inspector McFarlin," he told me. He was solemn and gray, with multi-dyed neckfur; he wore thick rimless glasses just above his whiskers. "You are guilty of a very serious crime, Mr. Space."
He prodded my ID papers with a large pair of forceps.
"How can I be guilty of anything? I haven't been given a hearing."
"Unnecessary," he piped. "We dispense with hearings when we have mouse-eye evidence, as in this case. You are clearly guilty of attempted assault with a lethal weapon, combined with potential forced entry." He removed his eyeglasses with a brown paw and regarded me with watery eyes. "Why are you Earth people so violent?"
He didn't expect an answer to that and I didn't have one for him. Instead, I asked him a question that had been rankling me. "How did you know I'd be there? Did that nosy bizmouse I talked to in the tube turn in a police alarm?"
"No, he did not," said McFarlin. "You needn't concern yourself with who tipped us. Suffice to say that we had prior warning that you were on your way to the site. We were, of course, helpless in a legal sense until you pulled out your weapon. This gave us full authority to move in and arrest you."
I wondered if Nicole had set me up. Again. It didn't scan otherwise. No one else knew the address I was headed for. Had she given me another con? I wasn't sure. But I'd find out.
"As to my weapon," I declared, "I have an in-date solar permit to carry my .38 and it's legal anywhere in the System. I had good reason to believe that a dangerous criminal — a murderer — was inside that office and I felt fully justified in apprehending him by force."
"You were ill-informed, unwise and extremely impulsive in a destructive sense of the term," the mouse said coldly. "You were acting well beyond your licensed authority." He laced his paws in front of him, peering intently at me. "And just who is this dangerous criminal?"
"I wish I could tell you. His name begins with F."
The Inspector mouse-clucked at me. "And is that all you know about him?"
"I know he's ruthless. I know he tried to have me done away with and that he hired professional Loonies to kill Dr. Emmanuel Q. Umani on Mars."
"But you don't even know his last name?" The tone in the tiny voice was heavily sarcastic.
"I was about to find out when you cop mice swarmed all over me," I growled. "I was hitting one of his branch offices."
"That branch office, the one you were about to ‘hit' with your deadly weapon in hand, belongs to one of the most respected citizens of the System."
"And who would that be?"
"Ronfoster Kane of Mercury."
"The Robot King?"
"Precisely. The entire robo force of Pluto
They quick-marched me back into the tube and we headed for ground level. All twelve of the stern-eyed mice kept their weapons centered on me all the way to the bottom.
Outside the building they had a police vancab waiting. It was a surface vehicle, and large enough to carry Earthlings.
"To enter," directed the squad leader, waving his stungun at me.
I climbed inside, feeling a little ridiculous, and the dozen armed mice joined me for the trip to HQ. The squad leader sat next to the driver, holding my .38 on his lap in a giant zipsack. The gun was larger than he was which made things a bit awkward for him.
Mouse Headquarters was an odd jumble of flat white windowless cubes in a dizzying variety of sizes. If you were a giraffe head from Oberon they had a very tall cube for you; if you were round and squat, as were the slugbellies from Callisto, they had a wide cube to fit; if you were Earthsize they used yet another special cube designed for humans.
I was impressed.
They took away my contra-grav belt after I was seated. My body suddenly seemed gross and massive. Under the crushing pull of Jupiter's raw gravity it took immense effort simply to raise my arm.
The mouse in charge of questioning sat down at a tiny desk facing me. The desk was on a raised platform in line with my nose.
"I'm Police Inspector McFarlin," he told me. He was solemn and gray, with multi-dyed neckfur; he wore thick rimless glasses just above his whiskers. "You are guilty of a very serious crime, Mr. Space."
He prodded my ID papers with a large pair of forceps.
"How can I be guilty of anything? I haven't been given a hearing."
"Unnecessary," he piped. "We dispense with hearings when we have mouse-eye evidence, as in this case. You are clearly guilty of attempted assault with a lethal weapon, combined with potential forced entry." He removed his eyeglasses with a brown paw and regarded me with watery eyes. "Why are you Earth people so violent?"
He didn't expect an answer to that and I didn't have one for him. Instead, I asked him a question that had been rankling me. "How did you know I'd be there? Did that nosy bizmouse I talked to in the tube turn in a police alarm?"
"No, he did not," said McFarlin. "You needn't concern yourself with who tipped us. Suffice to say that we had prior warning that you were on your way to the site. We were, of course, helpless in a legal sense until you pulled out your weapon. This gave us full authority to move in and arrest you."
I wondered if Nicole had set me up. Again. It didn't scan otherwise. No one else knew the address I was headed for. Had she given me another con? I wasn't sure. But I'd find out.
"As to my weapon," I declared, "I have an in-date solar permit to carry my .38 and it's legal anywhere in the System. I had good reason to believe that a dangerous criminal — a murderer — was inside that office and I felt fully justified in apprehending him by force."
"You were ill-informed, unwise and extremely impulsive in a destructive sense of the term," the mouse said coldly. "You were acting well beyond your licensed authority." He laced his paws in front of him, peering intently at me. "And just who is this dangerous criminal?"
"I wish I could tell you. His name begins with F."
The Inspector mouse-clucked at me. "And is that all you know about him?"
"I know he's ruthless. I know he tried to have me done away with and that he hired professional Loonies to kill Dr. Emmanuel Q. Umani on Mars."
"But you don't even know his last name?" The tone in the tiny voice was heavily sarcastic.
"I was about to find out when you cop mice swarmed all over me," I growled. "I was hitting one of his branch offices."
"That branch office, the one you were about to ‘hit' with your deadly weapon in hand, belongs to one of the most respected citizens of the System."
"And who would that be?"
"Ronfoster Kane of Mercury."
"The Robot King?"
"Precisely. The entire robo force of Pluto
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