Read Online Look Out For Space (Seven For Space) by William F Nolan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: William F Nolan
Tags: Science-Fiction
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meant to imply no slur on your character."
"Thanks," I said.
"I understand, from Inspector McFarlin, that you are personally motivated in tracking down the person or persons responsible for the current mysterious rash of worm-insect-asteroid kidnappings."
"I didn't know you could kidnap an asteroid."
"Ah, the quick tongue of the typical private detective!" Pennington chuckled. "I was, of course, lumping the varied disappearances into a single, inadequate phrase."
"Sure," I said, wishing he'd get to the point.
"At any rate," said Pennington, wiping a dust mote from his right eye with a minuscule white paper tissue. "I, too, am interested — in a professional capacity — in finding out just who is behind these crimes."
"You been assigned to the case?"
He nodded. "For the past Jupemonth I have pursued nothing else. My every waking moment is devoted to the vital accumulation of facts and evidence."
"And what have you accumulated?"
He shrugged, looping his tail around my knees to stabilize his balance. "Very little, I'm afraid. But the one lead I seem to have uncovered I am unable to pursue."
"Oh?"
"Unlike yourself, I am not free to travel from one planetary body to another through our System in pursuit of villainy. My position as a local police lieutenant here on Jupiter makes such circumnavigation quite impossible."
"Where would you like to circumnavigate to?"
"The Moon," he said. "Which, for you, sir, is but a mere hop skip and a jump — to place it in vulgarized terminology."
"And why should I hop to the Moon?" I gave him a hard look. "That is what you are getting at, isn't it?"
"Indeed, sir, it is," he said, chuckling and rubbing his stomach fur.
"Well?"
"You are an impatient man, Mr. Space."
"I like to keep things moving along, Lieutenant."
"Since we are going to be working as a team, you may call me Sylvester," he told me.
"I don't work with mice," I said.
His whiskers flicked. "And why not, sir?"
"No offense," I said, seeing he was upset. "It's just that I don't work with anybody, on any team. I'm a lone wolf. Always have been. I'm nobody's puppet."
"Let me assure you, Mr. Space, it is not my intention to attach any strings to your person, either actually or symbolically."
"If you've got a lead that makes sense, I'll follow it out. But on my terms," I said.
"Of course," nodded the copmouse. "You'll find me affable and entirely cooperative in this venture."
"Okay, what's your lead?"
"Have you heard of a Moonking named Pendorf Wrenhurst?"
"Maybe."
"He's a very wealthy sportsman. Races sandboats for a hobby. Has a huge mansion on Dark Side."
"So?"
The mouse scrubbed at his other eye with the tissue. "You should also know, Mr. Space, that this man — an Earthling like yourself — engages in the unsavory and despicable sideline of worm slavery."
"Never heard of it."
"Worms, as you may know, are hardy little souls," said the cop-mouse. "They are prized as below-ground workers on certain backwater planets. Mr. Wrenhurst traffics in the worm trade. Which is to say, he provides alien worms for illegal sale outside the System."
"I gotcha. You think Wrenhurst might be the character behind the rash of kidnappings."
"Possibly, sir … very possibly."
"But you have no proof?"
"None whatever," admitted Pennington.
"And how do you tie in the insect and asteroid end of things if he just wants worms?"
"I don't , Mr. Space. That's all part of the mystery. But it seems to me that a good place to start unraveling it might be in the private domain of Mr. Wrenhurst."
"Sam Space as spy?"
"Precisely, sir!"
I shrugged, almost dislodging the copmouse from my knee. "What the hell, Sylvester, a lead's a lead. I didn't have one when I met you, but I've got one now. I guess that's all any dick can ask for."
His whiskers were quivering. "Then … you'll go to the Moon?"
"Eventually," I said. "With one prior stop enroute."
Twelve
In order to make a stop you have to find the thing you're stopping for
"Thanks," I said.
"I understand, from Inspector McFarlin, that you are personally motivated in tracking down the person or persons responsible for the current mysterious rash of worm-insect-asteroid kidnappings."
"I didn't know you could kidnap an asteroid."
"Ah, the quick tongue of the typical private detective!" Pennington chuckled. "I was, of course, lumping the varied disappearances into a single, inadequate phrase."
"Sure," I said, wishing he'd get to the point.
"At any rate," said Pennington, wiping a dust mote from his right eye with a minuscule white paper tissue. "I, too, am interested — in a professional capacity — in finding out just who is behind these crimes."
"You been assigned to the case?"
He nodded. "For the past Jupemonth I have pursued nothing else. My every waking moment is devoted to the vital accumulation of facts and evidence."
"And what have you accumulated?"
He shrugged, looping his tail around my knees to stabilize his balance. "Very little, I'm afraid. But the one lead I seem to have uncovered I am unable to pursue."
"Oh?"
"Unlike yourself, I am not free to travel from one planetary body to another through our System in pursuit of villainy. My position as a local police lieutenant here on Jupiter makes such circumnavigation quite impossible."
"Where would you like to circumnavigate to?"
"The Moon," he said. "Which, for you, sir, is but a mere hop skip and a jump — to place it in vulgarized terminology."
"And why should I hop to the Moon?" I gave him a hard look. "That is what you are getting at, isn't it?"
"Indeed, sir, it is," he said, chuckling and rubbing his stomach fur.
"Well?"
"You are an impatient man, Mr. Space."
"I like to keep things moving along, Lieutenant."
"Since we are going to be working as a team, you may call me Sylvester," he told me.
"I don't work with mice," I said.
His whiskers flicked. "And why not, sir?"
"No offense," I said, seeing he was upset. "It's just that I don't work with anybody, on any team. I'm a lone wolf. Always have been. I'm nobody's puppet."
"Let me assure you, Mr. Space, it is not my intention to attach any strings to your person, either actually or symbolically."
"If you've got a lead that makes sense, I'll follow it out. But on my terms," I said.
"Of course," nodded the copmouse. "You'll find me affable and entirely cooperative in this venture."
"Okay, what's your lead?"
"Have you heard of a Moonking named Pendorf Wrenhurst?"
"Maybe."
"He's a very wealthy sportsman. Races sandboats for a hobby. Has a huge mansion on Dark Side."
"So?"
The mouse scrubbed at his other eye with the tissue. "You should also know, Mr. Space, that this man — an Earthling like yourself — engages in the unsavory and despicable sideline of worm slavery."
"Never heard of it."
"Worms, as you may know, are hardy little souls," said the cop-mouse. "They are prized as below-ground workers on certain backwater planets. Mr. Wrenhurst traffics in the worm trade. Which is to say, he provides alien worms for illegal sale outside the System."
"I gotcha. You think Wrenhurst might be the character behind the rash of kidnappings."
"Possibly, sir … very possibly."
"But you have no proof?"
"None whatever," admitted Pennington.
"And how do you tie in the insect and asteroid end of things if he just wants worms?"
"I don't , Mr. Space. That's all part of the mystery. But it seems to me that a good place to start unraveling it might be in the private domain of Mr. Wrenhurst."
"Sam Space as spy?"
"Precisely, sir!"
I shrugged, almost dislodging the copmouse from my knee. "What the hell, Sylvester, a lead's a lead. I didn't have one when I met you, but I've got one now. I guess that's all any dick can ask for."
His whiskers were quivering. "Then … you'll go to the Moon?"
"Eventually," I said. "With one prior stop enroute."
Twelve
In order to make a stop you have to find the thing you're stopping for
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