Classic Audiobook Collection - The Happy Unfortunate And The Hunted Heroes by Robert Silverberg ~ Full Audiobook [scifi]

Episode Date: April 20, 2023

The Happy Unfortunate And The Hunted Heroes by Robert Silverberg audiobook. Genre: scifi In this two-story collection of early Robert Silverberg science fiction, humanity's future splits along harsh new lines. In The Happy Unfortunate, Rolf Dekker returns to Earth after years among the stars and discovers a planet that no longer feels like home. The space program has reshaped people as much as it has reshaped society: the big-boned, acceleration-hardened Spacers stand apart from Earthbound citizens who pursue fashionable ideals through radical cosmetic change. Caught between pride and longing, Rolf tries to bridge the widening gap, risking body and identity in a world obsessed with appearances and belonging. In The Hunted Heroes, a different kind of frontier demands a different kind of courage. Ron and Valerie, part of a desperate expedition searching Mars for uranium to keep a wounded Earth alive, push into a landscape that is empty, unforgiving, and deadly. But the worst danger is not the planet itself. As their mission turns into a relentless chase, the couple must decide what heroism really costs when survival, love, and duty collide. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 1 (00:19:47) Chapter 2 (00:51:40) Chapter 3 (01:09:19) Chapter 4 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The Happy Unfortunates by Robert Silberg, Part 1. Rolf Dicker stared incredulously at the slim, handsome, young Eurther, who was approaching the steps of Rolf's tumbling-down, Spacer Town shack. He's got no ears, Rolf noted in unbelief. After five years in space, Rolf had come home to a strangely altered world, and he found it hard to accept. Another earther appeared. This one was about the same size, and gave the same impression of fragility.

This one had ears, all right, and a pair of gleaming two-inch horns on his forehead as well. I'll be eternally roasted, Rolf thought. Now I've seen everything. Both earthers were dressed in neat, gold-in-laid green tunics. costumes which looked terribly out of place amid the filth of space for town, and their hair was dyed a light green to match. He had been scrutinizing them for several moments before they became aware of him. They both spotted him at once and the one with no ears, turned to his companion and whispered

something. Rolf, leaning forward, strained to hear. Beautiful, isn't he? That's the biggest one I've seen. "'Come over here, won't you?' The horned one called in a soft, gentle voice, which contrasted oddly with the raucous bellowing Ralph had been accustomed to hearing in space. We'd like to talk to you.'

Just then, Canadae emerged from the door of the shack and limped down to the staircase. "'Hey, Rolfe,' he called, "'leave those things alone. Let me find out what they want first, huh?' "'Can't be any good, whatever it is,' Kennedy growled. "'Tell them to get out of here before I throw them back to wherever they came from, and make it fast.' The two Earthers looked at each other uneasily. Rolf walked toward them.

"'He doesn't like Earthers, that's all,' Ralph explained. "'But he won't do anything but yell.' Canaday spat in disgust, turned, and limped back inside the shack. "'I didn't know you were wearing horns,' Rolf said. The Earther flushed, new style, he said, very expensive. "'Oh,' Rolfe said, "'I'm new here. I just got back. Five years in space. When I left, you people looked all alike. Now you wear horns.' "'It's the new trend,' said the earless one.

"'We're individs. When you left, the conforms were in power style-wise. But the new surgeons can do almost anything, you see? The shadow of a frown crossed Ralph's face. Anything? Almost. They can't transform an Earther into a spacer, and they don't think they ever will. Or vice versa? Rolf asked.

They sniggered. What spacer would want to become an Earther? Who would give up that life out in the stars? us. Rolf said nothing. He kicked at the heap of litter in the filthy street. What spacer indeed, he thought. He suddenly realized that the two little earthers were staring up at him as if he were some

sort of beast. He probably weighed as much as both of them, he knew, and at six-four he was better than a foot taller. They looked like children next to him. toys. The savage blast of acceleration would snap their flimsy bodies like toothpicks. "'What places have you been to?' the earless one asked. "'Two years on Mars, one on Venus, one in the belt, one on Neptune,' Rolf recited.

"'I didn't like Neptune. It was the best in the belt, just our one ship prospecting. We made a pile on Circe's enough to buy out. I shot half of it on Neptune. Still have plenty left, but I don't know what I can do with it. He didn't add that he had come home puzzled, wondering why he was a spacer instead of an earther, condemned to live in filthy spacer town

when Yock was just across the river. They were looking at his shabby clothes, at the dirty brownstone hovel he lived in, an antique of a house four or five centuries old. You mean you're rich, the Earther said. Sure, Rolfe said. Every Spacer is, so what? What can I spend it on?

My money's banked on Mars and Venus. Thanks to the law, I can't legally get it to Earth. So I live in Spacertown. Have you ever seen at Earther's city? The earless one asked, looking around at the quiet streets of Spacertown with big, powerful men, sitting idly in front of every house.

I used to live in York, Ralph said. My grandmother was an earther. She brought me up there. I haven't been back there since I left for space. They forced me out of York, he thought. I'm not part of their species, not one of them. The two earthers exchanged glances. Can we interest you in a suggestion?

They drew in their breath. as if they expected to be knocked sprawling. Canadae appeared at the door of the shack again. Rolf, hey, you turning into an earther, get rid of them two cuties before they're trouble. Ralph turned and saw a little knot of spacers standing on the other side of the street, watching him curiously. He glared at them.

I'll do whatever I damn well, please, he shouted across. He turned back to the two earthers. Now, what is it you want?' "'I'm giving a party next week,' the earless one said. "'I'd like you to come. We'd like to get the spacers slant on life.' "'Party?' Rolf repeated. "'You mean dancing and games and stuff like that?' "'You'll enjoy it,' the Earther said coaxingly,

"'and we'd all love to have a real spacer there.' "'When is it?' "'A week.' "'I have ten days. left of my leave. All right, he said, I'll come. He accepted the Earther's card, looked at it mechanically, saw the name, Cal Quinton, and pocketed it. Sure, he said I'll be there. The Earthers moved toward their little jet car, smiling gratefully. As Rolf crossed the street, the other spacers greeted him with cold, puzzled stairs. Canada was almost as tall

as Rolf and even uglier. Rolf's eyebrows were bold and heavy. Canaday's thick, contorted, bushy clumps of hair. Canaday's nose had been broken long before in some barroom brawl. His cheek bones bulged. His face was strong and hard. More important, his left foot was twisted and gnarled beyond hope of redemption by the most skillful surgeon. He had been crippled in a jet explosion three years before, and was of no use to the

space lines anymore. They had pensioned him off. Part of the deal was the dilapidated old house in Spacertown, which he operated as a boarding house for transient spacers. What do you want to do that far? Candidee asked. Haven't those earthers pushed you around enough? So you have to go dance at one of their wild parties?

"'Leave me alone,' Ralph muttered. "'You like this filth you live in? "'Spacer Town is just a ghetto, that's all. "'The earthers have pushed you right into the muck. "'You're not even a human being to them, "'just some sort of trained ape. "'And now you're going to go and entertain them. "'I thought you had brains, Ralph.'

"'Shut up!' He dashed his glass again. against the table. It bounced off and dropped to the floor where it shattered. Kennedy's girl, Lainey, entered the room at the sound of the crash. She was tall and powerful looking, with straight black hair and the strong cheekbones that characterized the spacers. Immediately she stooped and began shoveling up the broken glass. That wasn't smart, Rolf, she said. That'll cost you have a credit. Wasn't worth it, was it? Ralph laid the coin on the edge of the table.

Tell your pal to shut up, then. If he doesn't stop icing, I'll fix his other foot for him, and you can buy him a dolly. She looked from one to the other. What's bothering you two now? A couple of Earthers were here this morning, Kennedy said. Slumming. They took a fancy to our young friend here and invited him to one of their parties. He accepted.

He what? Don't go, Ralph, you're crazy to go. Why am I crazy? He tried to control his voice. Why should we keep ourselves apart from the Earthers? Why shouldn't the two races get together? She put down her tray and sat next to him. There are more than two races, she said patiently.

Erther and Spacer are two different species, Rolf? Carefully, genetically separated. They're small and weak. We're big and powerful. You've been bred for going to space. They're the cast-offs. The ones who were too weak to go.

The line between the two groups is too strong to break. And they treat us like dirt, like animals, Canada said. But they're the dirt. They're the ones who couldn't make it. it." "'Don't go to the party, Lane,' he said. They just want to make fun of you. Look at the big ape, they'll say."

Rolf stood up. You don't understand. Neither of you does. I'm part earther," Rolf said. My grandmother on my mother's side. She raised me as an earther. She wanted me to be an earther. But I kept getting bigger and uglier all the time.

She took me to a plastic surgeon. once, figuring he could make me look like an earther. He was a little man. I don't know what he looked like to start with, but some other surgeon had made him clean-cut and straight-nosed and thin-lipped like all the other earthers. I was bigger than he was, twice as big, and I was only fifteen. He looked at me and felt my bones and measured me. Healthy little ape, those were the words he used. He told my grandmother I'd get bigger and bigger that no amount of surgery could make me small and handsome, that I was only fit for space and didn't belong in York.

So I left for space the next morning. I see, Lainey said quietly. I didn't say goodbye. I just left. There was no place for me in York. I couldn't pass myself off as an earther anymore. But I'd like to go back and see what the old life was like, now that I know what it's like to be on the other side for a while.

It'll hurt when you find out, Ralph. I'll take that chance, but I want to go. Maybe my grandmother will be there. The surgeons made her young and pretty again every few years. She looked like my sister when I left. Lainee nodded her head. There's no point arguing with him, Kennedy. He has to go back.

There and find out, so let him alone. Rolf smiled. Thanks for understanding. He took out Quentin's card and turned it over and over in his hand. Rolf went to Yock on foot, dressed in his best clothes, with his face as clean as it had been in some years. Spacer Town was just to cross the river from Yock, and the bridges spanning the river were bright and gleaming in the mid-afternoon sun.

The bombs had landed on York during the long-forgotten war, but somehow they had spared the sprawling borough across the river. And so, Yock had been completely rebuilt, once the radioactivity had been purged from the land, while what was now Spacertown consisted mostly of buildings that dated back to the twentieth century. York had been the world's greatest seaport, now it was the world's greatest spaceport. The sky was thick with incoming and outgoing liners. The passengers on the ship usually stayed at York, which had become an even greater metropolis than it had been before the bomb. The crew crossed the river to Spacertown, where they could find their own kind.

Yawk and Spacertown were like two separate planets. There were three bridges spanning the river, but most of the time they went unused. used, except by spacemen going back home, or by spacemen going to the spaceport for embarkation. There was no regular transportation between the two cities. To get from Spacer Town to york, you could borrow a jet car or you could walk. Rolf walked. He enjoyed the trip.

I'm going back home, he thought as he paced along the gleaming arc of the bridge, dressed in his Sunday best. He remembered the days of his own childhood, his parentless childhood. His earliest memory was of a fight at the age of six or so. He had stood off what seemed like half the neighborhood, ending the battle by picking up an older bully much feared by everyone, and heaving him over a fence. When he told his grandmother about the way he had won the fight, she cried for an hour and never told him why, but they never picked on him again, though he knew the other boys had jeered at him behind his back as he grew bigger and bigger over the years.

Ape, they called him ape. But never to his face. He approached the york end of the bridge. A guard was waiting there, an earther guard, small and frail, but with a sturdy-looking blaster at his hip. Going back, Spacer? Rolf started. How did the guard know?

And then he realized that all the guard meant was, Are you going back to your ship? No, no, I'm going to a party. Cal Quentin's house. Tell me another spacer. The guard's voice was light and derisive. A swift poke in the ribs would break him in half, Rolf thought. I'm serious.

Quentin invited me. Here's his card. If this is a joke, It'll mean trouble, but go ahead. I'll take your word for it. Rolf marched on past the guard, almost nonchalantly. He looked at the address on the card, 12-406 Kinman Road.

He rooted around in his fading memory of York, but he found the details had blurred under the impact of five years of Mars and Venus and the Belt and Neptune. He did not know where Kinman Road was. was. The glowing street signs were not much help either. One said 287th Street, and the other said 72nd Avenue. Kinman Road might be anywhere. He walked on a block or two. The streets were antiseptically clean, and he had a feeling that his boots, which had lately trod in Spacer Town, were leaving dirt marks along the street. He did not look back to see. He looked at his

Rist Cron, it was getting late and Kinman Road might be anywhere. He turned into a busy thoroughfare, conscious that he was attracting attention. These streets here were crowded with little people who barely reached his chest. They were all about the same height, and most of them looked alike. A few had had radical surgical alterations, and every one of these was different. One had a unicorn-like horn, another an extra eye which cunningly resembled his real ones. The earthers were looking at him furtively, as they would at a tiger or an elephant strolling down a main street. "'Where are you going, Spacer?' said a voice from the middle of the street.

Rouse's first impulse was to snarl out a curse and keep moving, but he realized that the question was a good one, and one whose answer he was trying to find out for himself. He turned. Another policeman stood on the edge of the walkway. Are you lost? The policeman was short and delicate-looking. Ralph produced his card. The policeman studied it.

What business do you have with Quentin? Just tell me how to get there. Rolf said I'm in a hurry. The policeman backed up a step. All right, take it easy. He pointed to a kiosk. Take the sub-car here. There's a stop at Kinman Road.

You can find your way from there. I'd rather walk it, Ralph said. He did not want to have to stand the strain of riding in a subcar with a bunch of curious staring earthers. Fine with me, the policeman said. It's about two hundred blocks to the north, got a good pair of legs? Never mind.

Ralph said, I'll take the subcar. End of Part 1. Part 2 of The Happy Unfortunate by Robert Silverberg. This Liebervox recording is in the public domain. Kenman Road was a quiet little street in an expensive-looking end of york. 12-406 was a towering building which completely overshadowed everything else on the street. As Rolf entered the door, a perfumed little earther with a flashing diamond where his left I should have been, and a skin-stained bright purple appeared from nowhere.

"'We've been waiting for you. Come on. Cal will be delighted that you're here.' The elevator zoomed up so quickly that Rolf thought for a moment he was back in space. But it stopped suddenly at the sixty-second floor, and, as the door swung open, the sounds of wild revelry drifted down the hall. Rolf had a brief moment of doubt when he pictured Lainey and Kennedy at this very moment, playing cards in their moldering hovel, while he walked down this plasteline corridor back into a world he had left behind. Quentin came out into the hall to greet him.

Rolf recognized him by the missing ears. His skin was now a subdued blue to go with his orange robe. I'm so glad you came, the little Arthur bubbled. Come on in, and I'll introduce you to everyone. The door opened photoelectrically as they approached. Quentin seized him by the hand and dragged him in. There was the sound of laughter and of shouting. As he entered, it all stopped suddenly, as if it had been shut off.

Rolf stared at them quizzically. from under his lowering brows, and they looked at him with ill-concealed curiosity. They seemed divided into two groups. Clustered at one end of the long hall was a group of earthers who seemed completely identical, all with the same features, looking like so many dolls in a row. These were the earthers he remembered, the ones whom the plastic surgeons had hacked at and hewn until they all conformed to the prevailing concept of beauty. Then, at the other end, was a different group. They were all different.

Some had glittering jewels, said in their foreheads. Others had no lips, no hair, extra eyes, three nostrils. They were a weird and frightening group, highest product of the plastic surgeon's art. Both groups were staring silently at Rolf. "'Friends, this is Rolf. Rolf—decker,' Rolf said after a pause. He had almost forgotten his own last name. "'Rolf Dekker, just back from outer space. I've invited him to join us tonight.

I think you'll enjoy meeting him.' The stony silence slowly dissolved into murmurs of polite conversation. as the party-goers adjusted to the presence of the newcomer. They seemed to be discussing the matter earnestly among themselves, as if Quentin had done something unheard of by bringing a spacer into an earther party. A tall girl with blonde hair drifted up to him. Ah, Joan, Quentin said, he turned to Rolf.

This is Joan. She asked to be your companion at the party. She's very interested in space and things connected with it. Things connected with it, Rolf thought, meaning me. He looked at her. She was as tall and earther as he had yet seen, and probably suffered for it when there were no spacers around. Furthermore, he suspected her height was accentuated for the evening

by special shoes. She was not of the individ persuasion because her face was well-shaped, with smooth, even features, with no individualist distortion. Her skin was unstained. She wore a clinging off the breast tunic. Quite a dish, Rolf decided. He began to see that he might enjoy this party. The other guests began to approach timidly, now that the initial shock of his presence

had worn off. They asked silly little questions about space, questions which show that they had only a superficial interest in him, and were treating him as a sort of talking dog. He answered as many as he could, looking down at their little painted faces with concealed contempt. They think as little of me as I do of them. The thought hit him suddenly, and his broad-face creased. in a smile at the irony.

Then the music started. The knot of Earthers slowly broke up and drifted away to dance. He looked at Joan, who had stood patiently at his side through all this. I don't dance, he said. I never learned how. He watched the other couples moving gracefully around the floor, looking for all the world like an assemblage of puppets. He stared at the dance.

dim light, watching the couples clinging to each other as they rocked through the motions of the dance. He stood against the wall, wearing his ugliness like a shield. He saw the great gulf which separated him from the earthers spreading before him, as he watched the dancers and the gay chatter and the empty bandage and the furtive hand-holding, and everything from which he was cut off. The bizarre individs were dancing to get. He noticed one man putting an extra arm to full advantage, and the almost identical conforms had formed their own group again. Ralph wondered how they told each other apart when they all looked alike.

"'Come on,' Joan said. "'I'll show you how to dance.' He turned to look at her with her glossy, blonde hair and even features. She smiled, prettily, revealing white teeth. newly purchased, Rolf wondered. Actually, I do know how to dance, Rolf said, but I do it so badly. That doesn't matter, she said Galey. Come on. She took his arm.

Maybe she doesn't think I look like an ape, he thought. She doesn't treat me the way the others do. But why am I so ugly, and why is she so pretty? He looked at her, and she looked at him, and he felt. Helt her glance on his stubbly face with its ferocious teeth and burning yellowish eyes. He didn't want her to see him at all. He wished he had no face. He folded her in his arms, feeling her warmth radiate through him.

She was very tall, he realized, almost as tall as a Spacer woman, but with none of the harsh ruggedness of the women of Spacer Town. They danced, she, well, he clumsily. When the music stopped she guided him to the entrance of a veranda. They walked outside into the cool night air. The lights of the city obscured most of the stars, but a few still showed, and the moon hung high above yoke. He could dimly make out the lights of Spacer Town across the river, and he thought again

of Lainey and Canaday and wished Canaday could see him now. with this beautiful earther next to him. "'You must get lonely in space,' she said after a while. "'I do,' he said, trying to keep his voice gentle. "'But it's where I belong. I'm bred for it.' She nodded. "'Yes. And any of those so-called men inside, we give ten years of his life to be able to go to space.

But yet you say it's lonely. "'Those long rides through the night,' he said, "'they get you down. "'You want to be back among people, so you come back. "'You come back, and what do you come back to?' "'I know,' she said softly. "'I've seen Spacer Town.' "'Why must it be that way?' he demanded.

"'Why are Spacers so lucky and so wretched all at once?' "'Let's not talk about it now,' she said. I'd like to kiss her, he thought. But my face is rough, and I'm rough and ugly, and she'd push me away. I remember the pretty little Earther girls who ran laughing away from me when I was thirteen and fourteen before I went to space. You don't have to be lonely, she said. One of her perfect eyebrows lifted just a little.

Maybe someday you'll find someone. who cares, Rolf? Someday, maybe?" Yeah, he said some day, maybe. But he knew it was all wrong. Could he bring this girl to Spacer Town with him? No. She must be merely playing a game. Looking for an evening's diversion, something new.

Make love to a Spacer." They fell silent and he watched her again, and she He watched him. He heard her breath rising and falling evenly, not at all like his own thick gasps. After a while he stepped close to her, put his arm around her, tilted her head into the crook of his elbow, bent and kissed her. As he did it, he saw he was botching it just like everything else. He had come too close and his heavy foot was pressing on the tip of her

shoe, and he had not quite landed square on her lips, but still he was close to her. He was reluctant to break it up, but he felt she was only half responding, not giving anything of herself, while he had given all. He drew back a step. She did not have time to hide the expression of distaste that involuntarily crossed her face. He watched the expression on her face. as she realized the kiss was over. He watched her silently.

Someday, maybe, he said. She stared at him, not hiding the fear that was starting to grow on her face. He felt a cold, chill deep in his stomach, and it grew until it passed through his throat and into his head. Yeah, he said some day, maybe. But not you. Not anyone who's just playing games. That's all you want something to tell your friends about. That's why you volunteered for tonight's assignment. It's all you can do to keep from laughing at me, but you're sticking to it.

I don't want any of it, hear me? Get away. She stepped back apace. You ugly, clumsy clown. You, ape! Tears began to spoil the flawless mask of her face. Blinded with anger, he grabbed roughly for her arm, but she broke away and dashed back inside.

She was trying to collect me, he thought. Her hobby? Interesting dates. She wanted to add me to her collection. An experience! Calmly he walked to the end of the veranda and stared off into the night, choking his rage. He watched the moon, making its dead ride across the sky, and stared at the sprinkling of stars.

The night was empty and cold, he thought, finally, but not more so than I. He turned and looked back through the half-opened window. He saw a girl who looked almost like her, but not tall enough, and wore a different dress. Then he spotted her. She was dancing with one of the conforms, a frail-looking man a few inches shorter than she,

with regular handsome features. She laughed at some sly joke, and he laughed with her. Rolf watched the moon for a moment more, thinking of Lainey's warning, They just want to make fun of you. Look at the big ape, they'll say. He knew he had to get out of, of there immediately.

He was a spacer, and they were earthers. And he scorned them for being contemptuous little dolls, and they laughed at him for being a hulking ape. He was not a member of their species. He was not part of their world. He went inside. Carl Quentin came rushing up to him. I'm going, Rolf said.

What? You don't mean that. The little man said, Why, the party's scarcely gotten under way, and there are dozens of people who want to meet you, and you'll miss the big show if you don't stay. I've already seen the big show, Rolf told him. I want out now.

You can't leave now, Quentin said. Rolf thought he sought tears in the corner of the little man's eyes. Please don't leave. I've told everyone you'd be here. you'll disgrace me." What do I care? Let me out of here. Ralph started to move toward the door.

Quentin attempted to push him back. Just a minute, Ralph, please. I have to get out, he said. He knocked Quentin out of his way with a backhand swipe of his arm, and dashed down the hall frantically looking for the elevator. Lainey and Canadae were sitting up, waiting for him when he got back early in the morning. He slung himself into a pneumo chair and unsealed his boots, releasing his cramped, tired feet.

Well, Lainey asked, how was the party? You have fun among the earthers, Rolf? He said nothing. It couldn't have been that bad, Lainey said. Rolf looked up at her. I'm leaving space. I'm going to go to a surgeon and have him turn me. me into an earther. I hate this filthy life."

"'He's drunk,' Canaday said. "'No, I'm not drunk,' Rolf retorted. "'I don't want to be an ape any more.' "'Is that what you are? If you're an ape, what are they to you? Monkeys?' Canaday laughed harshly. "'Are they really so wonderful?'

Lainey asked. Does the life appeal to you so much that you'll give up space for it? Do you admire the Earthers so much?" "'She's got me,' Rolf thought. "'I hate Spacer Town. But will I like Yock any better? Do I really want to become one of those little puppets? But there's nothing left in space for me.

At least the Earthers are happy. I wish you wouldn't look at me that way. me alone, he snarled. I'll do whatever I want to do. Lainey was staring at him, trying to poke behind his mask of anger. He looked at her wide shoulders, her muscular frame, her unbeautiful hair and rugged face, and compared it with Joni's clinging grace, her flowing gold hair. He picked up his boots and stumped up to bed.

The surgeon's name was Goldring, and he was a wiry, intense man, who had prevailed on one of his colleagues to give him a tiny slit of a mouth. He sat behind a shining, plasteline desk, waiting patiently until Rolf finished talking. "'It can't be done,' he said at last. Plastic surgeons can do almost anything, but I can't turn you into an earther. It's not just a matter of chopping eight or ten inches out of your legs. I'd have to alter your entire bone structure or you'd be a hideous misproportioned monstrosity. And it can't be done. I can't build you a whole new body from scratch.

And if I could, you wouldn't be able to afford it. Rolf stamped his foot impatiently. You're the third surgeon who's given me the same line. What is this a conspiracy? I see what you can do. If you can graft a third arm onto somebody, you can turn me into an earther. Please, Mr. Decker, I told you I can't. But I don't understand why you want such a change.

Hardly a week goes by without some york boy coming to me and asking to be turned into a spacer, and I have to refuse him for the same reason. I'm refusing you. That's the usual course of events, the romantic earther boy wanting to go to space, and not being able to—' An idea hit Ralph. Was one of them Cal Quentin? I'm sorry, Mr. Decker. I just can't divulge any such information. Rolf shot his arm across the desk, and grasped the surgeon by the throat. Answer me? Yes! The surgeon gasped. Quentin asked me for such an operation. Almost everyone wants one.

And you can't do it? Rolf asked. Of course not. I told you. The amount of work needed to turn Erther into Spacer. Our spacer into Erther is inconceivable. It'll never be done. I guess that's definite, then, Rolf said, slumping a little in disappointment. But there's nothing to prevent you from giving me a new face, from taking away this face and replacing it with something people can look at without shuddering? I don't understand you, Mr. Decker, the surgeon said. I know that. Can't you see it?

I'm ugly. Why should I look this way? Please calm down, Mr. Decker. You don't seem to realize that you're a perfectly normal-looking species. Spacer. You were bred to look this way. It's your genetic heritage. Space is not a thing for everyone. Only men with extraordinary bone structure can withstand acceleration. The first men were carefully selected and bred. You see the result of five centuries of this sort of breeding. These sturdy, heavy-bone spacers, you, Mr. Decker and your friends, are the only ones who are fit to travel. in space. The others, the weaklings like myself, the little people resort to plastic surgery to compensate for their deficiency. For a while, the trend was to have everyone conform to a certain standard of beauty. If we couldn't be strong, we could at least be handsome. Lately, a new theory of

individualism has sprung up. And now we strive for original forms in our bodies. This is all because size and strength have been bred out of us and given to you. I know all this, Ralph said. Why can't you— Why can't I peel away your natural face and make you look like an earther? There's no reason why. It would be a simple operation. But who would you fool?

Why can't you be grateful for what you are? You can go to Mars. while we can merely look at it. If I gave you a new face, it would cut you off from both sides. The earthers would still know you are a spacer, and I'm sure the other spacers would immediately cease to associate with you. Who are you to say? You're not supposed to pass judgment on whether an operation should be performed,

or you wouldn't pull out people's eyes and stick diamonds in. It's not that, Mr. Decker. The surgeon folded and unfolded his hands in impatience. You must realize that you are what you are. Your appearance is a social norm, and for acceptance in your social environment, you must continue to appear, well, perhaps, shall I say, ape-like? It was as bad a word as the surgeon could have chosen. "'Ape, ape, am I?

I'll show you who's a-like.' an ape? Ralph yelled, all the accumulated frustration of the last two days, suddenly bursting loose. He leaped up and overturned the desk. Dr. Goldring hastily jumped backwards as the heavy desk crashed to the floor. A startled nurse dashed into the office, saw the situation, and immediately ran out. Give me your instruments. I'll operate on myself. He knocked Goldring against the wall, pulled down a costly solidograph from the wall, and kicked it at him, and crashed through into the operating room, where he began overturning tables and heaving chairs through glass shelves.

"'I'll show you,' he said. He cracked an instrument case and took out a delicate knife with a near microscopic edge. He bent it in half, and threw the crumbled wreckage away. Wildly he destroyed everything he could, ranging from one end of the room to the other, ripping down furnishings, smashing, destroying, while Dr. Goldring stood at the door and yelled for help. It was not long in coming. An army of Uther policemen erupted into the room and confronted him as he stood, panting amid the wreckage.

They were all short men, but there must have been twenty of them. Don't shoot him, someone called, and then they advanced in a body. He picked up the operating table and hurled it at them. Three policemen crumpled under it, but the rest kept coming. He batted them away like insects, but they surrounded him and piled on. For a few moments he struggled under the load of fifteen small men punching and kicking and yelling. He burst loose for an instant, but two of them were clinging to his leg.

and he hit the floor with a crash. They were on him immediately, and he stopped struggling after a while. The next thing he knew, he was lying sprawled on the floor of his room in Spacer Town, breathing dust out of the tattered carpet. He was a mass of cuts and bruises, and he knew they must have given him quite a going-over. He was sore from head to foot. So they hadn't arrested him. No, of course not.

No more than they would arrest any wild animal who went berserk. They had just dumped him back in the jungle. He tried to get up, but couldn't make it. Quite a going over it must have been. Nothing seemed broken, but everything was slightly bent. Satisfied now? Said a voice from somewhere. It was a pleasant sound to hear.

A voice, and he let the mere noise of it soak into. his mind. Now that you've proved to everyone that you really are just an ape?" He twisted his neck around, slowly, because his neck was stiff and sore. Lainey was sitting on the edge of his bed with two suitcases next to her. It really wasn't necessary to run while there, she said. The earthers all knew you were just an animal anyway. You didn't have to prove it so violently.

"'Okay, Lainey, quit it. If you want me to, I just wanted to make sure you knew what had happened. A gang of Uther cops brought you back a while ago and dumped you here. They told me the story. Leave me alone. You've been telling everyone that all along, Rolf. Look where it got you. A royal beating at the hands of a bunch of Uther's.

Now that they've thrown you out for the last. last time? Has it filtered into your mind that this is where you belong?" "'In Spacer Town?' Only between trips. You belong in space, Ralph. No surgeon can make you an Earther. The Earthers are dead, but they don't know it yet. All their parties, their fancy clothes, their extra arms and missing ears—that means they're

decadent. They're finished. You're the one who's alive. The whole universe is waiting for you to go out and step on its neck. And instead you want to turn yourself into a green-skinned little monkey. Why? He pulled himself to a sitting position. I don't know.

He said, I've been all mixed up, I think. He felt his powerful arm. I'm a spacer. Suddenly he glanced. at her, what are the suitcases for? He said. I'm moving in. Lainey said, I need a place to sleep. What's the matter with Canada Day? Did he get tired of listening to you preaching? He's my friend, Lainey. I'm not going to do him dirt. He's dead, Rolf. When the Earther cops came here to bring you back, and he saw what they did to you, his hatred overflowed. He always hated Earthers, and he

hated them even more for the way you were being tricked into thinking they were worth anything. He got hold of one of those cops and just twisted him into two pieces. They blasted him. Rolf was silent. He let his head sink down on his knees. So I moved down here. It's lonely upstairs now. Come on, I'll help you get up. She walked toward him, hooked her hand under his arm and half dragged, half pushed him to his feet. Her touch was firm, and there was no denying the strength behind her. I have to get fixed up, he said abruptly. My leaves up in two days. I have to get out of here. We're shipping for Pluto. He rocked unsteadily on his feet. It'll really get lonely here then, he said. Are you really going to go?

Or are you going to find some Jack Surgeon who'll make your face pretty? for a few dirty credits. Stop it. I mean it. I'm going. I'll be gone a year on this sign-up. By then I'll have enough cash piled up on various planets to be a rich man. I'll get it all together and get a mansion on Venus and have greeny slaves.

It was getting toward noon. The sun, high in the sky, burst through the shutters and lit up the dingy room. I'll stay here, Lainty said. you're going to Pluto?" He nodded. "'Canaday was supposed to be going to Pluto. He was heading there when that explosion finished his foot. He never got there after that.'

"'Poor old Canaday,' Rolf said. "'I'll miss him, too. I guess I'll have to run the boarding-house now. For a while. Will you come back here when you're years up?' "'I suppose so,' Rolfe said, without looking up. "'This town is no. worse than any of the other spacer towns. No better, but no worse. He slowly lifted his head

and looked at her as she stood there, facing him. I hope you come back, she said. The sun was coming in from behind her now and lighting her up. She was rugged all right and strong, a good, hard worker, and she was well built. Suddenly his aches became less painful. As he looked at her, and realized that she was infinitely more beautiful than the slick, glossy-looking girl he had kissed on the veranda, who had bought her teeth at a store, and had gotten her figure from a surgeon. Lainey, at least, was real. You know, he said at last, I think I have an idea.

You wait here, and I'll come get you when my year's up. I have enough to pay passage to Venus for two. We can get a slightly smaller mansion than I planned on getting, but we can get it. Some parts of Venus are beautiful, and the closest those monkeys from York can get to it is to look at it in the night sky. You think it's a good idea?' "'I think it's a great idea,' she said, moving toward him. Her head was nearly as high as his own. I'll go back to space.

I have to keep my rating, but you'll wait for me, won't you? I'll wait. And as he drew her close, he knew she meant it. The end. End of The Happy Unfortunate by Robert Silverberg. Part 1 of The Hunted Heroes by Robert Silverberg. This labor box recording is in the public domain. Part 1.

The hunted heroes. was first published in Amazing Stories, September, 1956. Let's keep moving, I told Val. The surest way to die out here on Mars is to give up. I reached over and turned up the pressure on her oxymask to make things a little easier for her. Through the glass-eyed of the mask I could see her face contorted in an agony of fatigue. And she probably thought the failure of the same.

Sandcat was all my fault, too. Val's usually about the best wife a guy could ask for, but when she wants to be, she can be a real flying bother. It was beyond her to see that some grease monkey back at the dome was at fault. Whoever it was who had failed to fasten down the engine hood. Nothing but what had stopped us could stop a sandcat. Sand in the delicate mechanism of the atomic engine." But no, she blamed it all on me, somehow. So we were out walking on the spongy sand of the Martian desert. We'd been walking a good eight hours.

Can't we turn back now, Ron?" Val pleaded. Maybe there isn't any uranium in this sector at all. I think we're crazy to keep on searching out here. I started to tell her that the Uranco. Chief had assured me we'd hit something out this way, but changed my mind. When Val's tired and overwrought, there's no sense in arguing with her. I stared ahead at the bleak, desolate wastes of the Martian landscape.

Behind us somewhere was the comfort of the dome. Ahead, nothing but the mazes and gullies of this dead world. Try to keep going, Val. My gloved hand reached out and clumsily enfolded hers. Come on, kid. Remember, we're doing this for Earth. We're heroes." She glared at me.

Heroes, hell, she muttered. That's the way it looked back home, but out here it doesn't seem so glorious. And your Anko's pay is stinking. We didn't come out here for the pay, Val. I know, I know. just the same. It must have been hell for her. We had wondered fruitlessly over the red sands all day, both of us listening for the clicks of the counter. And the Geiger's had been obstinately hushed all day, except for their constant undercurrent of meaningless noises. Even

though the Martian gravity was only a fraction of Earth's, I was starting to tire, and I knew it must have been really rough on Val with her lovely but unrugged legs. Heroes, she said bitterly. We're not heroes. We're suckers. Why did I ever let you volunteer for the guide-core? And dragged me along, which wasn't anywhere close to the truth. Now I knew she was at the breaking point, because Val didn't lie unless she was so exhausted

she didn't know what she was doing. She had been just as much inflamed by the idea of coming to Mars to help in the search for uranium as I was. We knew the pay was poor, but we had felt it a sort of obligation, something we could do as individuals to keep the industries of radioactive's starved earth going, and we'd always had a roving foot, both of us. No, we had decided together to come to Mars,

the way we decided together on everything. Now she was turning against me. I tried to jolly her up. Buck up, kid! I said. I didn't dare turn up her oxy pressure any higher, but it was obvious she couldn't keep going. She was almost sleepwalking now. We pressed on over the barren terrain.

The Geiger kept up a fairly steady click pattern, but never broke into that sudden explosion. of tumult that meant we had found pater. I started to feel tired myself, terribly tired. I longed to lie down on the soft, spongy Martian sand and bury myself. I looked at Val. She was dragging along with her eyes half shut. I felt almost guilty for having dragged her out to Mars until I realized that I hadn't.

In fact, she had come up with the idea before I did. did. I wished there was some way of turning the weary, bedraggled girl at my side back into the Val who had so enthusiastically suggested we joined the Geig's. Twelve steps later, I decided this was about as far as we could go. I stopped, slipped out of the Geiger harness and lowered myself ponderously to the ground. "'What's the matter, Ron?' Val asked sleepily. "'Something wrong.' "'No, baby,' I said, putting out a hand and taking hers. "'I think we ought to rest a little before we go any farther.

It's been a long hard day. It didn't take much to persuade her. She slid down beside me, curled up, and in a moment she was fast asleep, sprawled out on the sands. Poor kid, I thought. Maybe we shouldn't have come to Mars after all. But I reminded myself, someone had to do the job. A second thought appeared, but I squelched it. Why the hell me?

I looked down at Valerie's sleeping form and thought of our warm, comfortable little home on earth. It wasn't much, but people in love don't need very fancy surroundings. I watched her sleeping peacefully. a wayward lock of her soft blonde hair, trailing down over one eyebrow, and it seemed hard to believe that we'd exchanged Earth and all it held for us, for the raw, untamed struggle that was Mars. But I knew I'd do it again if I had the chance. It's because we wanted to keep what we had.

Heroes? Hell no. We just liked our comforts, and wanted to keep them. which took a little work. Time to get moving, but then Val stirred and rolled over in her sleep, and I didn't have the heart to wake her. I sat there, holding her, staring out over the desert, watching the wind whip the sand up into weird shapes.

The Geigor preferred married couples working in teams. That's what had finally decided it for us. We were a good team. We had no ties on Earth that couldn't be broken without much difficulty, so we volunteered. And here we are, heroes. The wind blasted a mass of sand into my face, and I felt it to tinkle against the oxymask. I glanced at the suit chronometer. Getting late.

I decided once again to wake Val, but she was tired, and I would be very. I was tired, too, tired from our wearying journey across the empty desert. I started to shake, Val, but I never finished. It would be so nice just to lean back and nuzzle up to her down in the sand. So nice, I yawned and stretched back. I awoke with a sudden startled shiver and realized angrily I let myself doze off. Come on, Val," I said savagely, and started to rise to my feet. I couldn't.

I looked down. I was neatly bound in thin, tough plastic tangle cord, swathed from chin to boot bottoms, my arms imprisoned, my feet caught. And Tanglecord is about as easy to get out of as the spider's web is for a trap-fly. It wasn't Martians that had done it. There weren't any Martians, hadn't been for a million years. It was some earthman who had bound us. I rolled my eyes toward Val, and saw that she was similarly trust in the sticky stuff.

The tangle cord was still fresh, giving off a faint, repugnant odor like that of drying fish. It had been spun on us only a short time ago, I realized. Ron, don't try to move, baby. stuff can break your neck if you twist it wrong." She continued for a moment to struggle futilely, and I had to snap, "'Lie still, Val.' "'A very wise statement,' said a brittle, harsh voice from above me.

I looked up and saw a helmeted figure above us. He wasn't wearing the customary skin-tight pliable oxysuits we had. He wore an out-moded, bulky space suit, and a fishbowl helmet. all but the face area opaque. The oxygen canisters weren't attached to his back as expected, though. They were strapped to the back of the wheelchair in which he sat. Through the fish-bowl I could see hard little eyes, a yellowed parchment-like face, a grim set jaw.

I didn't recognize him, and this struck me odd. I thought I knew everyone on sparsely settled Mars. Somehow I'd missed him. What shocked me most was that he had no legs. The spacesuit ended neatly at the thighs. He was holding in his left hand the tangle gun with which he had entrapped us, and a very efficient-looking blaster was in his right. I didn't want to disturb your sleep, he said coldly.

So I've been waiting here for you to wake up. I could just see it. He must have been sitting there for hours. complacently waiting to see how we'd wake up. That was when I realized he must be totally insane. I could feel my stomach muscles tighten. My throat constrict painfully. The anger ripped through me, washing away the terror. What's going on? I demanded, staring at the half of a man who confronted us from the wheelchair. Who are you? You'll find out soon enough, He said, "'Suppose now you come with me.'

He reached for the Tanglegun, flipped the little switch on its side to melt, and shot a stream of watery fluid over our legs, keeping the blaster trained on us all the while. Our legs were free. "'You may get up now,' he said, slowly without trying to make trouble. Val and I helped each other to our feet as best we could, considering our arms were still tightly bound against the sides of our oxysuits walk the stranger said waving the tangle gun to indicate the direction i'll be right behind you he holstered the tangle gun i glimpsed the bulk of an outboard atomic rigging behind him strapped to the back of the wheel-chair he fingered a knob on the arm of the chair and the two exhaust ducks behind the wheel housings flamed for a moment and the chair began to roll.

Obediently we started walking. You don't argue with a blaster, even if the man pointing it is in a wheelchair. What's going on, Ron? Val asked, in a low voice as we walked. Behind us the wheelchair hissed steadily. I don't quite know, Val. I've never seen this guy before, and I thought I knew everyone at the dome. Quiet up there, a captor called.

and we stopped talking. We trudged along together with him following behind. I could hear the crunch, crunch of the wheelchair as its wheels chewed into the sand. I wondered where we were going and why. I wondered why we had ever left Earth. The answer to that came to me quick enough. We had to. Earth needed radioactives, and the only way to get them was to get out and look.

The great atomic wars of the late twentieth century had used up much of the supply, but the amount used to blow up half the great cities of the world hardly compared with the amount we needed to put them back together again. In three centuries the shattered world had been completely rebuilt. The wreckage of New York and Shanghai and London and all the other ruined cities had been hidden by a shining new world gleaming towers and flying roadway. We had profited by our grandparents' mistakes. They had used their atomics to make bombs.

We used ours for fuel. It was an atomic world. Everything, power drills, printing presses, typewriters, can-openers, ocean liners, powered by the inexhaustible energy of the dividing atom. But, though the energy is inexhaustible, the supply is, of nuclei isn't. After three centuries of heavy consumption, the supply failed. The mighty machine that was Earth's industry had started to slow down. And that started the chain of events that led Val and me to end up as a madman's prisoners on Mars. With every source of uranium mined dry

on Earth, we had tried other possibilities. All sorts of schemes came forth. Project Sea Dress was trying to get uranium from the oceans. In forty or fifty years they'd get some results, we hoped, but there wasn't forty or fifty years worth of raw stuff to tide us over until then. In a decade or so our power would be just about gone. I could picture the sort of dog-eat-dog world we revert back to, millions of starving, freezing humans, tooth and clawing it in the useless shell of a great atomic civilization. So, Mars. There's not much uranium on Mars, and it's not easy to find or any cinch to mine, but what

little is there helps. It's a stopgap effort just to keep things moving until Project Seedredge starts functioning. Enter the Geig Corps, volunteers out on the face of Mars, combing for its uranium deposits. And here we are, I thought. After we walked on a while a dome became visible up ahead. It slid up over the crest of a hill, set back between two hummocks on the desert, just out of the way enough to escape observation. For a puzzled moment I thought it was our dome.

The settlement where all of Yeranco's Geigor were located, but another look told me that this was actually quite near us and fairly small. A one-man dome, of all things. Welcome to my home, he said. The name is Gregory Ledman. He heard us off to one side of the airlock, uttered a few words key to his voice, and motioned us inside when the door slid up.

When we were inside, he reached up, clumsily holding the blaster, and unscrewed the ancient spacesuit fishbowl. His face was a bitter, dry, up mask. He was a man who hated. The place was spartantly furnished, no chairs, no tape player, no decoration of any sort. Hard bulkhead walls, rivet studded, glared back at us. He had an automatic chef, a bed, and their writing desk, and no other furniture. Suddenly he drew the tangle gun and sprayed our legs again. We toppled heavily to the floor. I looked up angry,

I imagine you want to know the whole story, he said. The Others did, too. End of Part 1 of the Hunted Heroes. The Hunted Heroes by Robert Silverberg, Part 2. This Libre-Fox recording is in the public domain. Valerie looked at me anxiously. Her pretty face was a dead white behind her oxymask. What others?

I never bothered to fight out their names, Ledman said casually. They were other gags I caught unawares, like you, out on the desert. That's the only sport I have left, gig hunting. Look out there. He gestured through the translucent skin of the dome, and I felt sick. There was a little heap of bones lying there, looking oddly bright against the redness of the sands. They were the dried, parched skeletons of Earthmen, bits of cloth and plastic, once oxymask and suits, still clung to them. Suddenly I remembered. There had been a pattern there

all the time. We didn't much talk about it. We chalked it off as occupational hazards. There had been a pattern of disappearances on the desert. I could think of six, eight names now. None of them had been particularly close friends. You don't get time to make close friends out here, but we'd vowed it wouldn't happen to us. It had. You've been hunting geikes?" I asked. Why?

What have they ever done to you? He smiled, as calmly as if I'd praised his housekeeping. "'Because I hate you,' he said blandly. I intend to wipe every last one of you out, one by one. I stared at him. I'd never seen a man like this before. I thought all his kind had died at the time of the atomic wars. I heard Val sob.

He's a madman. No, Ledman said evenly. I'm quite sane. Believe me. But I'm determined to drive the guy exeges and Uranco off Mars. Eventually, I'll scare you all away. Just pick us off in the desert? Exactly, replied Ledman, and I have no fears of an armed attack.

This place is well fortified. I've devoted years to building it, and I'm back against those hills. They couldn't pry me out. He let his pale hand run up into his gnarled hair. I've devoted years to this, ever since—ever since I landed here on Mars. What are you going to do with us? Val finally asked after a long silence. He didn't smile this time. Kill you, he told her, not your husband.

I want him as an envoy to go back and tell the others' to clear off. He rocked back and forth in his wheelchair, toying with the gleaming deadly blaster in his hand. We stared in horror. It was a nightmare, sitting there placidly rocking back and forth. A nightmare! I found myself fervently wishing I was back out there on the infinitely safer desert. Do I shock you? he asked. I shouldn't. Not when you see my motives. We don't see them, I snapped.

Well, let me show you. You're on Mars hunting uranium, right? To mine and ship the radioactives back to Earth to keep the atomic engines going, right? I nodded over at our Geiger counters. We volunteered to come to Mars, Val said irrelevantly. "'Ah, two young heroes,' Ledman said acidly. "'How sad! I could almost feel sorry for you. Almost.' "'Just what is it you're after?' I said, stalling, stalling.

"'Atomics cost me my legs,' he said. "'You remember the Sadlerville blast?' he asked. "'Of course. I did, too. I'd never forget it. No one would. How could I forget that great accident, killing hundreds, injuring thousands more, sterilizing forty miles of Mississippi land, when the Saddleville pile went up? I was there on business at the time, Ledman said. I represented Ledman Atomics. I was there to sign a new contract for my company. You know who I am now? I nodded. I was fairly well-shielded when it happened.

I never got the contract, but I got a good dose of uranium instead. Not enough to kill me, he said. Just enough to necessitate the removal of—he indicated the empty space at his thighs. So I got off lightly. He gestured at the wheelchair blanket. I still didn't understand. But why kill us gags? We had nothing to do with it.

You're just in this by accident, he said. You see, after the explosion and the amputation, my fellow members on the board of Ledmanatomics decided that a semi-basket case like myself was a poor risk as head of the board, and they took my company away. All quite legal, I assure you, they left me almost a pauper. Then he snapped the punchline at me. They renamed Ledman Atomics. Who did you say you worked for?

I began, Your Aunt Don't Bother a more inventive title than Ledman Atomics. But not quite as much heart, wouldn't you say? He grinned. I saved for years. Then I came to Mars, lost myself, built this dome, and swore to get even. There's not a great deal of uranium on this planet,

but enough to keep me in style to which, unfortunately, I'm no longer accustomed. He consulted his wristwatch. Time for my injection. He pulled out the Tangle Gun and sprayed us again, just to make doubly certain. That's another little souvenir of Sadlerville. I'm short on my own.

red blood corpuscles. He rolled over to a wall table and fumbled in a container among a pile of hypodermics. There are other injections to adrenaline, insulin, others. The blast turned me into a walking pin cushion, but I'll pay it all back, he said. He plunged the needle into his arm. My eyes widened. It was too nightmarish to be real. I was way. wasn't seriously worried about his threat to wipe out the entire Gike Corps, since it was unlikely that one man in a wheelchair could pick us all off. No, it wasn't the threat that disturbed me so much as the whole concept. So strange to me that the human mind could be as warped and twisted as Ledman's.

I saw the horror on Val's face, and I knew she felt the same way I did. Do you really think you can succeed?" I taunted him. Really think you can kill every Earth-man on Mars? Of all the insane cock-eyed, Val's quick, worried headshake cut me off. But Ledman had felt my words all right. Yes! I'll get even with every one of you for taking away my legs.

If we hadn't meddled with the atom in the first place I'd be as tall and powerful as you today, instead of a useless cripple in a wheelchair. You're sick, Gregory Ledman, Val said quietly. You've conceived an impossible scheme of revenge, and now you're taking it out on innocent people who've done nothing, nothing at all to you. That's not sane. His eyes blazed. Who are you to talk of sanity? Uneasily I caught Val's glance from a corner of my eye. Sweat was rolling down her smooth forehead, faster than the auto-wiper could swab it away. Why don't you do something?

What are you waiting for, Ron? Easy, baby, I said. I knew what our ace in the hole was, but I had to get Ledman within reach of me first. Enough, he said. I am going to turn you loose. outside, right after. Get sick, I hissed to Val, low. She began immediately to cough violently, emitting harsh, choking sobs.

Can't breathe! She began to yell writhing in her bonds. That did it. Ledman hadn't much humanity left in him, but there was a little. He lowered the blaster a bit, and wheeled one hand over to see what was wrong with Val. She continued to retch and moan most horribly. It almost convinced me. I saw Val's pale, frightened face turned to me.

He approached and peered down at her. He opened his mouth to say something, and at that moment I snapped my leg up hard, tearing the tangle cord with a snicking rasp, and kicked his wheelchair over. The blaster went off, burning a hole through the dome roof. The automatic sealers glued in instantly. Ledman went sprawling helplessly out into the middle of the floor. The wheelchair upended next to him, its wheels slowly revolving in the air. The blaster flew from his hand at the impact of landing and spun out near me.

In one quick motion, I rolled over and covered it with my body. Leadman clawed his way to me with tremendous effort, and tried wildly to pry the blaster out from under me, but without success. I twisted a bit, reached out with my free leg, and booted him across the floor. He fetched up against the wall of the dome, and lay there. Val rolled over to me. Now if I could get free of this stuff, I said. I could get him covered before he comes to, but how? Team work, Val said.

She swiveled around on the floor until her head was near my boot. Push my oxymask off with your foot, if you can. I searched for the clamp and tried to flip it. No luck with my heavy, clumsy boot. I tried again, and this time it snapped open. I got the tip of my boot in and pried upward. The oxymask came off slowly, scraping a jagged red surrogent. scratch up the side of Val's neck as it came.

There, she breathed. That's that. I looked uneasily at Ledman. He was groaning and beginning to stir. Val rolled on the floor, and her face lay near my right arm. I saw what she had in mind. She began to nibble the vile-tasting tangle cord, running her teeth up and down it until it started to give. She continued unfailingly. Finally, one strand snapped, then another. At last I had enough use of my hand to reach out and grasp the blaster. Then I pulled myself across the floor to Ledman, remove the tangle gun, and melted the remaining tangle cord off.

My muscles were stiff and bunched, and rising made me wince. I turned and freed Val. Then I turned and faced Ledman. "'I suppose you'll kill me now,' he said. "'No, that's the difference between sane people and insane,' I told him. "'I'm not going to kill you at all. I'm going to see to it that you're sent back to Earth.' "'No!' he shouted, "'No, anything but back there. I don't want to face them again, not after what they did to me.'

"'Not so loud, I broke in. They'll help you on Earth. They'll take all the hatred and sickness out of you, and turn you into a useful member of society again. I hate Earthmen, he spat out. I hate all of them. I know, I said sarcastically. You're just all full of hate. You hated us so much that you couldn't bear to hang around on Earth for as much as a year

after the Sadlerville blast. You had to take right off from Mars without a moment's delay, didn't you? You hated Earth so much. You had to leave. Why are you telling all this to me? Because if you'd stayed long enough, you'd have used some of your pension money to buy yourself a pair of prosthetic legs,

and then you wouldn't need this wheelchair. "'Ledman scowled, and then his face went belligerent again. "'They told me I was paralyzed below the waist, that I'd never walk again, even with prosthetic legs, because I had no muscles to fit them to.' "'You left Earth too quickly,' Val said. "'It was the only way,' he protested. "'I had to get off.' "'She's right,' I told him.

"'The atom can take away, but it can take away, but it can't. give as well. Soon after you left, they developed atomic-powered prosthetics, amazing things, virtually robot legs. All the survivors of the Sadlerville Blast were given the necessary replacement limbs free of charge. All except you. You were so sick, you had to get away from the world you despised and come here. You're lying, he said. It's not True. Oh, but it is, Val smiled. I saw him wilt visibly, and for a moment.

I almost felt sorry for him, a pathetic, legless figure propped up against the wall of the dome at Blaster Point. But then I remembered he killed twelve gags or more, and would have added Val to the number, had he had the chance. You're a very sick man, Ledman, I said. All this time, you could have been happy, useful on earth, instead of being holed up here nursing your hatred. You might have been useful on earth, but you decided to channel everything out as revenge.

I still don't believe it, those legs. I might have walked again. No, no, it's all a lie. They told me I'd never walk. He said weakly but stubbornly still. I could see his whole structure of hate starting to topple, and I decided to give it the final push. "'Haven't you wonder how I managed to break the tangle cord when I kicked you over?' "'Yes. Human legs aren't strong enough to break tangle cord that way?'

"'Of course not,' I said. I gave Val the blaster and slipped out of my oxysuit. "'Look,' I said, I pointed to my smooth, gleaming metal legs. The almost soundless pair of their motors was the only noise in the room. I was in the Sadlerville Blast, too, I said. But I didn't go crazy with hate when I lost my legs. Ledman was sobbing. Okay, Ledman, I said.

Val got him into his suit and brought him the fishbowl helmet. Get your helmet on and let's go. Between the Sykes and the prosthetics men, you'll be a new man, inside of a year. But I'm a murderer. That's right. And you'll be sentenced to psych adjustment. When they're finished, Gregory Ledman, the killer, will be as dead as if they'd electrocuted

you. But there'll be a new and sane Gregory Ledman. I turned to Val. Got the Geiger's honey? For the first time since Ledman had caught us, I remembered how tired Val had been out on the desert. I realized now that I had been driving her mercilessly, me, with my chromium legs and atomic-powered

muscles. No wonder she was ready to fold. And I'd been too dense to see how unfair I had been. She lifted the Geiger harnesses, and I put Ledman back in his wheelchair. Val slipped her oxymask back on and fastened it shut. Let's get back to the dome in a hurry, I said. we'll turn Ledman over to the authorities. Then we can catch the next ship for Earth.

Go back? Go back. If you think I'm backing down now and quitting, you can find yourself another wife. After we dump this guy, I'm sacking in for 20 hours, and then we're going back out there to finish that search pattern. Earth needs uranium, honey, and I know you'd never be happy, quitting in the middle like that. She smiled.

I can't wait to get out there and start listening for those tell-tale clicks. I gave a joyful whoop and swung her around. When I put her down, she squeezed my hand, hard. Let's get moving, fellow hero, she said. I pressed the stud for the airlock, smiling. End of The Hunted Heroes by Robert Silverberg