Get off the Unicorn

Not that he expected a full-uniform for a minor planet like Welladay, but an Investigator ought to appear in something more than a faded one-piece shipsuit.

"I'm Tallav, Planetary Administrator, Grade 3-B," he said in a firm voice, saluting the new arrival with what he felt was the proper deference. Investigators were not exactly equal in status to Planetary Administrators but they had superplenary powers which they could invoke if circumstances warranted. "And you are Investigator…"

"Brack's the name.

Tallav was a little annoyed by the very casual return of his salute.

"Your arrival couldn't be more opportune," Tallav went on, indicating the exit to Brack. "We haven't so much as a drop of the radioactive iodine left, and two top-priority emergency capsules came in just before you got here. The tone was rather high-handed. You timed that a mite close, if I may say so."

The Investigator shot him an odd look as he ducked under the portal. Tallav dogged the lock wondering if the Investigator thought he was being critical.

"Storms on Welladay are unusually violent," he continued. "That's why we net down all craft."

Brack snorted and let Tallav lead the way to the office.

"If you'll just come this way. Investigator, my tapes and personnel are entirely at your disposal. We want this piracy stopped immediately—"

"In that storm?"

"Well, no, of course not. I mean, that is… surely my communications gave you ample facts from which to draw some conclusions? After all, there aren't very many places on Welladay from which a pirate could operate."

"No, there aren't."

"Now, here we are. May I offer you some refreshment? Or would you permit yourself to try some offworld stimulant? I'm afraid the commissary is a little low—tedious, this business of being boycotted until these pirates are ^apprehended and the iodine is collected properly."

"I could do with some hot protein. Natural… if you can supply it."

Tallav decided not to take offense at the suggestion that Welladay could not feed its population decently. He roused the mess hall personnel and ordered a meal from his private stores. No sooner had he turned, smiling, toward the Investigator, than the corn unit beeped urgently.

His hand hovered over the unit to silence it. Then he saw it was Hangar calling. The dolts hadn't managed to damage the Investigator's ship, had they?

"Well, what is it?"

"Drone K-Star is back. Or rather, what's left of it is back," the hangarmaster reported.

"Who was that one assigned to?"

"Murv."

"Are all the other drones back?" he asked, inadvertently glancing at the waterfall that covered his plasglas wall.

"No, sir!"

"What? Who could still be afloat in this?"

"Odis."

"Odis? But he… Get off the line. I must talk to the harbormaster."

Angrily, he jabbed the new call. "Okker, has Murv got in yet?"

"No, nor Odis either. Just like that new-worlder to try and send his drone back through a storm," old Okker said.

"What were their destinations?"

"You ordered 'em out yourself. Told 'em to milk anything they could catch."

"Well, you knew a storm was coming up. Didn't you call them back?" It was difficult for Tallav to restrain his irritation with the old fool. No respect for status. Just because he had been one of the original fishmen of Welladay, he thought he knew more about everything than a trained Planetary Administrator.

"What do you think, Tallav? I know my job as harbormaster. Besides, Odis is smart enough to run submerged for the eye and drift back with it till it disperses."

Tallav shuddered inwardly, trying hard not to notice the half-smile on the Investigator's lips at the impudence of his subordinate.

"And Murv?" Tallav was compelled to ask. He distrusted the new-worlder and would like nothing better than for him to turn out to be their pirate. He looked the part and he was obviously opting to go off-planet as soon as he could. That was the trouble with the Debt Contractees—men forced to accept undesirableworld employment never took any real interest in their work.

"I can't speak for him."

"Why didn't you report their absence when the storm broke?"

"Did. You weren't in. Down meeting that snooper you sent for so long ago."

"Investigator Brack is present in my office."

"Good for him," Okker replied, ignoring the frost in Tallav's voice. "Now let me get back to my Eye. That damned fool Sharkey's out, too."

Brack was suddenly very alert.

"The Chief?" Tallav was now fully alarmed. Losing Sharkey was unthinkable. The man was a sheer genius with the fishboats, able to repair absolute wrecks. If he lost the engineer, he might just as well resign. He would never get a replacement at the price he could force Sharkey to take.

"You can't test a patched hull in dry dock, you know," Okker was reminding him needlessly.

"Yes, yes. Keep me posted."

"Don't I always?" The connection was broken at the harbormaster's end and the meal arrived at the same instant.