by Robert Shea
welcome, but no harmtrying.
* * * * *
The Denebian looked at him and laughed. "You want the job?"
"Yes, I want the job."
"Then don't ask questions."
Pandit nodded.
"Out through that door, then. The other new pilots are assembling."
And Pandit left the small office.
A moment later a buzzer sounded on the Denebian's desk. He spoke into agrid: "Orkap here. Go ahead."
"The guru near the League building reports that a native Ophiuchan leftthe building heading for the city."
"When was this?"
"Yesterday morning."
"And?"
"Draw your own conclusions. Natives don't go near the Leagueheadquarters as a rule, do they?"
"No."
"And the League, of course, will want to know about the suicides?"
"Yes, but--"
"But nothing," said the radio voice, which belonged to the only otherDenebian currently on Ophiuchus IX. "We can assume this native is a spy.For the League, Orkap."
"All right. I don't see any need to worry, though."
"Don't you? The gurus, like the other natives, can sham, but they can'tlie. Sooner or later a guru will be brought out of trance by the League,questioned, and--"
"Tell them about us?" Orkap asked in a shocked voice.
"It could happen. Maybe it's happened already. There won't be any proof,of course, but the League would send a spy. Suppose I describe thisnative to you."
Orkap said, "Go ahead," and the radio voice did so.
In a shocked voice Orkap admitted: "I've given that Ophiuchan a pilot'sjob this morning. There can't be any doubt about it."
"Ah, then you see? You see?"
"I can fix that. I can--"
"Orkap, Orkap. You'll do nothing now. Let the spy alone for now. Then,in the Empty Places, you will merely announce to the pilots that thereis a spy among them. Don't reveal who it is." He could not believe hisears.
"But--"
"They want work. They need work. They'll all be afraid the finger ofguilt may point at them. They'll work like dogs for you, and I wouldn'tbe surprised if they uncovered the spy themselves."
"Yes," Orkap said. "Yes, I understand."
"All but one thing, Orkap. There is one thing you don't understand. Thespy's identity--"
"You already told me who the spy was."
"Yes. But there is another spy. Working for us, in the League building."
"I never knew," said Orkap.
"The spy among your pilots is more than appearance indicates. Did youever hear of Johnny Mayhem?"
Orkap's heart jumped into his throat. Who in the galaxy hadn't heard ofMayhem? "But," he gasped, "a--"
"Nevertheless. It is Mayhem."
Orkap was suddenly afraid, more afraid than he had ever been in hislife. The ubiquitous Mayhem.
* * * * *
The fierce white sun of Ophiuchus IX broiled down on the Empty Places, afeatureless desert two-thousand miles across and as lividly white asbleached bone. In all that burning emptiness, the jet cargo craft lookedvery small and very insignificant, like black midges on the dead whitesand.
Midges among midges, the new pilots walked.
One said: "But I see no cargo."
Another: "These outworlders and their mystery...."
All were sweating, all uncomfortable, but all grateful for the twentycredits a flight they would earn, whatever the cargo turned out to be.
"What do you think?" Pandit asked Sria.
"I think I've never been so hot in my life. I feel like I'm beingbroiled alive."
"Here comes the Denebian now."
They had been driven into the Empty Places in a sand sled. The trip hadtaken two days but because the sled was air-conditioned no one hadobjected. When they saw the half dozen jets they knew why a sled hadtaken them into the wilderness. The jets were small cargo-carriers withroom for pilot, co-pilot and perhaps a ton of cargo in each. Whatever itwas the Denebians wanted exported, it didn't take up much room.
Orkap of Deneb walked toward them past the first of the jets. He beganwithout preamble: "Your cargo is packed and ready to be moved in anunderground vault five hundred yards from here. You will break up intopairs, a pilot and co-pilot for each jet." Sria Krishna and Pandit hadalready paired themselves together. "You work on your own time, gettingthe cargo with trundle-sleds, loading it, taking off, delivering it tothe Denebian freighter at the spaceport. When you are finished, youcollect your pay."
"Where do we sleep?" someone asked.
* * * * *
Orkap smiled. "You didn't come out here to sleep. There is only alimited amount of cargo. The jets are swift. You will be paid accordingto the amount of work you do. Any other questions?"
"What about food?" a plump young Ophiuchan asked.
"You will be given energy tablets, as many as you wish. Any otherquestions? No? Good. I have two additional things to say. First, you arenot to examine your cargo under any circumstances, either here, or intransit, or on the spacefield. There are televid pick-up units in eachjet, so you will be watched at all times. Second--" Orkap paused and letthe silence grow and spread across the dazzling white expanse--"there isa spy among you, wearing the body of an Ophiuchan but in reality--well,I don't have to tell you who he is in reality." Orkap smiled grimly."There is only one body-changer in the galaxy, but one is quite enough."
One of the pilots said, a little breathlessly: "Johnny Mayhem!"
Orkap smiled again. "I am aware of Mayhem's identity," he said, "but I'mnot going to do anything about it."
The pilots waited. The sun glared down balefully. "You see," Orkap toldthem, "we cannot be altogether sure that the rest of you are here simplyto earn your twenty credits a flight. Mayhem has unwittingly become ourinsurance. Find Mayhem! Find the spy among you! A hundred credits bonusto the man who does!"
* * * * *
Pandit looked at Sria, who whistled. The girl said: "If they think wecan finish the job without sleep, picking up cargo and flying it to thespaceport and returning for more, then a hundred credits is probablymore than any of us will earn. They'll all be looking like hawks forthis Mayhem."
"And," Pandit agreed, "if there's a native spy among them, he'd beafraid to show himself for fear they'll think he's Mayhem. Very cleverof the Denebians."
"... to work at once," Orkap was saying. He wore a blaster on his hip,the only weapon among them. They all trudged behind him through theburning, faceless sands. Soon they reached a depression from which thesand had been cleared, baring the white bedrock of the Empty Places. Inthe rock a square opening had been cut, shielded on each side from theshifting sands by an up-curving lip. A ramp led down into darkness.
"You will find your cargo down there. Also enough trundle-sleds to goaround," Orkap explained. "The cargo is crated. The crates must remainintact. Is that understood?"
It was understood.
Their sudden mutual suspicion a pall worse than the heat, the Ophiuchansdescended the ramp. They needed the money or they wouldn't be here. Themoney meant more to them than anything: this was no time to befar-sighted. Yet one of them was a spy for the Galactic League--JohnnyMayhem.
One of them, but which?
Pandit made a quick estimate of the number of crates. They were stackedneatly against one wall, each about four feet by four by four. And fromthe size of them, a single crate would fill the cargo bay of each of thejets. Pandit made a rough estimate. Two dozen crates, perhaps. In thedim light it was hard to tell. Two dozen crates, six jets, twelveOphiuchans. Four trips for each jet. A half hour to load, ten minutes tounload, an hour and a half by jet to the spacefield. Three hours andforty minutes, round trip. Say, four hours. Four times four, sixteen.Sixteen hours of steady work for eighty credits. No time for mystery orsuspicion. Barely time for mistrust....
"You, there!" a voice called. "
What are you doing?"
It was one of the other Ophiuchans, quite the biggest of the lot. Pandithad seen him outside and remembered his name. He was Raj Shiva, a tall,muscular, swarthy Ophiuchan, with small, alert, suspicious eyes and alivid scar alongside his jaw.
"Nothing," Pandit said. "Nothing."
"No? The others are loading already. I'll be watching you."
For a hundred credits, Pandit thought furiously, but said nothing. Sriatouched his shoulder. "I have one of the trundle-sleds," she said."Let's
