again. His body had beenable to take the punishment the first time because the force had builtup gradually. Going back would be something else again.
Still he planned his next actions methodically--only in that way couldhe retain his sanity. He would go forward for one hour, he decided--hechecked his wrist watch and discovered it had run down--and, if hefound nothing, he would return and take his chances on getting throughthe curtain.
At the end of ten minutes he sighted land ahead of him. When hestepped off the Strip, he stopped in amazement!
Somehow the Strip had doubled back on itself, and he had returned tohis starting place!
To his right was the rough wooden viewing platform, with its greenumbrella gone. The stands were empty, and not a person--tourist orconcessionaire--was in sight.
As Johnson stood, perplexed, he became aware of numbness spreadingover his body. He brought up his hands and watched them slowly turnblue with cold. He realized then, in a burst of wonder, that winterhad come to Marlock. Yet it had been spring when he had gone out onthe Strip!
* * * * *
"Good God, man!" the clerk exclaimed. "Have you been out in that coldwithout a coat and hat? It must be thirty below."
Johnson was unable to answer. He had run from the Strip--luckily heremembered its location in relation to the town--but it must have beenover a mile to the hotel. Now, as he stamped his feet and beat at hissides with numbed hands, he breathed heavily, gasping great gulps ofair into his tortured lungs.
"Come and warm yourself," the clerk said, leading him over to a hotwater radiator.
Johnson made no protest. He let the heat penetrate until it scorchedthe skin on his back. Only after the coldness left his body and wasreplaced by a drowsy inertia did his attention return to the clerk.
"Did you ever see me before?" Johnson asked.
The clerk shook his head. "Not that I know of."
Any further investigation would have to wait until the next day,Johnson decided. He was dead tired, and he had to have some sleep."Sign me up for a room, will you?" he asked.
Once up in his room, Johnson counted his money. One hundred andfifty-four credits. Enough to buy winter clothing and pay his room andboard for a week. Maybe two. What would he do if he could learnnothing about himself before then?
The next day Johnson left the hotel to buy warm clothes. The town'sonly store was a half-block down the street--as he remembered it, oneof the big Interplanet Company stores.
Johnson waited until the storekeeper finished with two of thehairy-eared natives before giving his order. As he paid for thepurchase, he asked: "Have you ever seen me before?"
The storekeeper glanced at him uneasily, and shifted his feet beforeanswering. "Am I supposed to have?"
Johnson ignored the question. "Where can I find the manager?" heasked, slipping into the heavy coat the clerk held for him.
"Go up that stairway by the door," the clerk said. "You'll find him inhis office."
* * * * *
The manager was an old man. Old and black, with the deep blacknessonly an Earth-born Negro possesses. But his eyes retained theiryouthful alertness.
"Come in and sit down," he told Johnson as he looked up and saw himstanding in the doorway.
Johnson walked over and took the chair at the manager's left. "I'vehad an accident," he said, without preliminary, "and I seem to havelost my memory. Do you, by any chance, know who I am?"
"Never saw you before in my life," the manager answered. "What's yourname?"
"Don Johnson."
"Well, at least you remember something," the old man said shrewdly."You didn't come during the last six months, if that'll help any.There've been only two ships in that time. Both the Company's. I meetall Company ships. If you came in during the tourist season I wouldn'tknow."
"Where else could I make inquiries?"
"Son," the old man said kindly, "there's three Earthmen on Marlock,that I know of--besides yourself, of course--the clerk at the hotel,my storekeeper, and myself. If you started asking questions at thehotel, you're at the end of the line now."
Something in Johnson's expression caused the old man to go on. "Howyou fixed for money, son?"
Johnson drew a deep breath. "I've got enough to last me about twoweeks."
The manager hesitated, and carefully surveyed the ceiling with hiseyes before he spoke again. "I've always felt we Earthmen should sticktogether," he said. "If you want a job, I'll find something for you todo and put you on the payroll."
Twenty minutes later Johnson took the job--and twenty years later hewas still working for the Company. He worked for them until....
* * * * *
Johnson was glad when the first twinge of fear came that it brought nopanic. Instead it washed through his body, sharpening his reflexes andalerting his muscles for action.
He never ceased to wonder about this faculty he had acquired forsensing the presence of danger. There was no doubt in his mind that ithad come into active function through the influence of hisenvironment. But it must have been an intrinsic part of him evenbefore that, waiting to be activated.
A moment before he had localized the source of his uneasiness--anEarthman, following perhaps fifty paces behind him. The one quickglance Johnson had allowed himself told him his follower was aboveaverage in height, and lean--with the wiry, muscular command ofhimself that marked him as a man capable of well-coordinated action.
He fought the rising force of the next "sand-blaster" boiling in fromthe desert, until he was unable to take a step against it. Then hemoved behind a mud-packed arm projecting from the native dwelling athis right. Every building had one of these protecting arms added on;even the concrete buildings in the newer, Earth-built section of thecity conformed to the custom. The sandstorms raged intermittently onMarlock through the entire nine month summer season, and could not beignored, either by visitors or natives.
Johnson huddled against the projection, but the sand whipped aroundthe corner and pounded at his back. Fine grains sifted through hisclothing and mingled with the clammy sweat of his body. He resistedthe frantic urge to scratch his itching, tormented skin, for he knewthe flesh would be rubbed raw in a minute and increase the irritationto maddening proportions.
As the "sand-blaster" lost its intensity, he came out from his shelterand walked away as rapidly as the diminishing force of the wind wouldpermit. If he could reach his office before his stalker closed in, hewould be safe.
Suddenly a second Earthman, a short length of pipe in his right hand,came out of a doorway across the street and ran toward him.
Johnson realized that here was the source of the warning his intuitionhad sent--not the man behind him.
* * * * *
For a brief instant, he weighed the situation. The man was equippedfor assault, but the chances were he was interested only in robbery.Johnson could probably save himself a beating by surrendering hismoney without resistance. He rejected the thought. A man had to livewith his pride, and his self-respect; they were more necessary thanphysical well-being. Setting his shoulders firmly against the wall,he waited.
The man slowed to a walk when he saw his intended victim on guard.Johnson had the chance to observe him closely. He was a short and darkman, heavy of bone, with the lower half of his face thickly bearded,and sweat making a thin glistening film on his high cheekbones.
Abruptly a voice said, "I wouldn't touch him if I were you."
Johnson followed the gaze of his near-attacker to his left where thelean man he had noted before stood with a flat blue pistol pointed intheir direction. He held the pistol like a man who knew how to use it.
"A gun!" the man in the street gasped. "Are you crazy?"
"Better put it away--fast," Johnson warned his ally. "If the nativepolice catch you with that gun, you're in bad trouble."
The lean man hesitated a moment, then shrugged and pocketed the gun.But he kept hi
s hand in the pocket. "I can still use it," he said, tono one in particular.
"Look, chum," the bearded thug grated. "You're evidently a strangerhere. Let me give you a tip. If you get caught using a gun, or evenhaving one on you, the police'll slap you in jail with an automaticsentence of ten years. An Earthman couldn't stay alive in one oftheir so-called jails for a year.
"Now I've got a little business to attend to with Mr. Johnson, and Idon't want any interference. So be smart and run along."
The smile never left the stranger's face. "Right now," he said, "I aminterested in seeing that Mr. Johnson remains in good health. If youtake another step toward him, I'll shoot. And, if I'm not successfulin evading the police
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