Takeoff! by Randall Garrett Page B

peculiarities. Half of the atmosphere and almost all of the liquid of the planet is a compound with an extremely low heat of vaporization. It has a boiling point such that during the day it is a vapor and it condenses to a liquid at night. The days are intensely hot, the nights intensely cold.
    The planet rotates on its axis in a little less than twenty-six hours; during the night it rains exactly forty-seven feet, five inches-no more and no less, every night of every year.
    The winds are of more than hurricane velocity, rising to some eight hundred miles per hour, accompanied by blinding, almost continuous lightning discharges.
    What makes the planet unique, however, is that, with compounds of such low latent heat, the energy transfer is almost nil. Theoretically, the hot days should evaporate that liquid as quietly and gently as a ghost evaporates in a spotlight, and during the night it should condense as softly as dew from heaven falling upon the place beneath. Thermodynamically speaking, the planet Trenco should be about as turbulent as a goldfish bowl. Nobody can figure out where those winds or the lightning come from.
    Be that as it may, Trenco was, and is, the only planet where the plant known as Trenconian broadleaf grows, and that plant is the only source of thionite in any of several galaxies.
    In addition, Trenco has a strong Galactic Patrol base, manned by Rigellian Patrolmen whose sole job it isto kill anyone who comes to Trenco. One can well understand why thionite was, and is, so expensive.
    “Ah, a cogent thought indeed!” radiated Meichfrite. “Very well, then, relay to Banlon that he is to proceed at speed to Trenco and pick up a cargo of broadleaf, to bring here for processing. Meantime he is to order his underling Gauntluth to report directly to us.”

    In his office atop the Queen Ardis, Gauntluth the Kalonian watched with hard, steel-blue eyes as a figure on his spy-ray plate moved toward his suite of offices.
    Twodyce, with the exception of the DeLameter in his shoulder holster, was unarmed; he was carrying nothing else but the hermetically sealed container which bore within itself fifty grams of almost impalpable purple powder.
    A smile twisted Gauntluth’s face. “Fool!” he gritted harshly under his breath.
    He continued to watch as Twodyce came to the outer door and activated the announcer. He activated the door-opener. “Come in, Mr. Twodyce,” he spoke into a microphone. “Down the hall and first door to your left.”
    Gimble Ginnison, fully alert, strode down the corridor and opened the door. Alone behind his desk sat the unsuspecting Kalonian.
    “I perceive,” said the zwilnik, [A zwilnik is anyone connected with the drug trade.] “that you have brought the thionite with you.”
    “I have,” said the Lensman. “Have you the payment ready?”
    “Certainly. Half in bar platinum, half in Patrol credits, as specified. But first, of course, I must test the thionite.”
    “First I test the platinum,” said Twodyce impassively.
    Gauntluth blinked. “We seem to be at an impasse,” he murmured. “However, I think I see a way around it. Know, Twodyce, that you stand now in the focus of a complex of robotic devices which, with rays and beams of tremendous power, will reduce you to a crisp unless you hand over that thionite container instantly .”
    ‘“Since it is inevitable,” Ginnison said calmly, ‘“I might as well enjoy it.” He carefully put the thionite container on Gauntluth’s desk.
    Gauntluth needed no further check. Directing his thought toward a lump of force in a nearby corner of the room, he sent a message to Jugavine.

    This was the moment for which Ginnison had been waiting. In an instant, he effortlessly took over the zwilnik’s [A zwilnik is still a zwilnik.] mind. He allowed Gauntluth to send the message, since it would only further confuse all those concerned. Gauntluth reported in full to Meichfrite that he had, indeed, obtained a goodly supply of