Read Medal of Honor Page 5

Captain," he said. "How fine to see you again. Come rightin. Martha, that will be all."

  * * * * *

  Martha gave the interplanetary hero one more long look and then turnedand left.

  As soon as the door closed behind her, Max Rostoff turned and snarled,"Where have you been, you rummy?"

  He couldn't have shocked Don Mathers more if he'd suddenly sprouted aunicorn's horn.

  "We've been looking for you for a week," Rostoff snapped. "Out of onebar, into another, our men couldn't catch up with you. Dammit, don't yourealize we've got to get going? We've got a dozen documents for you tosign. We've got to get this thing underway, before somebody else does."

  Don blurted, "You can't talk to me that way."

  It was the other's turn to stare. Max Rostoff said, low anddangerously, "No? Why can't I?"

  Don glared at him.

  Max Rostoff said, low and dangerously, "Let's get this straight,Mathers. To everybody else, but Demming and me, you might be the biggesthero in the Solar System. But you know what you are to us?"

  Don felt his indignation seeping from him.

  "To us," Max Rostoff said flatly, "you're just another demi-buttockedincompetent on the make." He added definitely, "And make no mistake,Mathers, you'll continue to have a good thing out of this only so longas we can use you."

  A voice from behind them said, "Let me add to that, period, end ofparagraph."

  It was Lawrence Demming, who'd just entered from an inner office.

  He said, even his voice seemed fat, "And now that's settled, I'm goingto call in some lawyers. While they're around, we conduct ourselves asthough we're three equal partners. On paper, we will be."

  "Wait a minute, now," Don blurted. "What do you think you're pulling?The agreement was we split this whole thing three ways."

  Demming's jowls wobbled as he nodded. "That's right. And your share ofthe loot is your Galactic Medal of Honor. That and the dubiousprivilege of having the whole thing in your name. You'll keep yourmedal, and we'll keep our share." He growled heavily, "You don't thinkyou're getting the short end of the stick, do you?"

  Max Rostoff said, "Let's knock this off and get the law boys in. We'vegot enough paper work to keep us busy the rest of the week." He sat downagain at his desk and looked up at Don. "Then we'll all be taking offfor Callisto, to get things under way. With any luck, in six monthswe'll have every ounce of pitchblende left in the system sewed up."

  * * * * *

  There was a crowd awaiting his ship at the Callisto Spaceport. A crowdmodest by Earth standards but representing a large percentage of thesmall population of Jupiter's moon.

  On the way out, a staff of the system's best speech writers, and two topprofessional actors had been working with him.

  Don Mathers gave a short preliminary talk at the spaceport, and then theimportant one, the one that was broadcast throughout the system, thatnight from his suite at the hotel. He'd been well rehearsed, and they'dkept him from the bottle except for two or three quick ones immediatelybefore going on.

  _The project at hand is to extract the newly discovered deposits ofpitchblende on these satellites of Jupiter._

  He paused impressively before continuing.

  _It's a job that cannot be done in slipshod, haphazard manner. Thesystem's need for radioactives cannot be overstressed._

  _In short, fellow humans, we must allow nothing to stand in the way ofall out, unified effort to do this job quickly and efficiently. Myassociates and I have formed a corporation to manage this crash program.We invite all to participate by purchasing stock. I will not speak ofprofits, fellow humans, because in this emergency we all scorn them.However, as I say, you are invited to participate._

  _Some of the preliminary mining concessions are at present in the handsof individuals or small corporations. It will be necessary that theseturn over their holdings to our single all-embracing organization forthe sake of efficiency. Our experts will evaluate such holdings andrecompense the owners._

  Don Mathers paused again for emphasis.

  _This is no time for quibbling. All must come in. If there are those whoput private gain before the needs of the system, then pressures must befound to be exerted against them._

  _We will need thousands and tens of thousands of trained workers tooperate our mines, our mills, our refineries. In the past, skilled laborhere on the satellites was used to double or even triple the wage rateson Earth and the settled planets and satellites. I need only repeat,this is no time for personal gain and quibbling. The corporationannounces proudly that it will pay only prevailing Earth rates. We willnot insult our employees by "bribing" them to patriotism through higherwages._

  There was more, along the same lines.

  It was all taken very well. Indeed, with enthusiasm.

  * * * * *

  On the third day, at an office conference, Don waited for an opening tosay, "Look, somewhere here on Callisto is a young woman named DianFuller. After we get me established in an office, I'd like her to be mysecretary."

  Demming looked up from some reports he was scanning. He grunted to MaxRostoff, "Tell him," and went back to the papers.

  Max Rostoff, settled back into his chair. He said to the two bodyguards,stationed at the door, "Scotty, Rogers, go and make the arrangements tobring that damned prospector into line."

  When they were gone, Rostoff turned back to Don Mathers. "You don't needan office, Mathers. All you need is to go back to your bottles. Justdon't belt it so hard that you can't sign papers every time we need asignature."

  Don flushed angrily, "Look, don't push me, you two. You need me. Plenty.In fact, from what I can see, this corporation needs me more than itdoes you." He looked scornfully at Demming. "Originally, the idea wasthat you put up the money. What money? We have fifty-one percent of thestock in my name, but all the credit units needed are coming from salesof stock." He turned to Rostoff. "You were supposed to put up thebrains. What brains? We've hired the best mining engineers, the besttechnicians, to do their end, the best corporation executives to handlethat end. You're not needed."

  Demming grunted amusement at the short speech, but didn't bother to lookup from his perusal.

  Max Rostoff's face had grown wolfishly thin in his anger. "Look,bottle-baby," he sneered, "you're the only one that's vulnerable in thisset-up. There's not a single thing that Demming and I can be held toaccount for. You have no beefs coming, for that matter. You're gettingeverything you ever wanted. You've got the best suite in the best hotelon Callisto. You eat the best food the Solar System provides. And, mostimportant of all to a rummy, you drink the best booze and as much of itas you want. What's more, unless either Demming or I go to the bother,you'll never be exposed. You'll live your life out being the biggesthero in the system."

  It was Don Mathers' turn to sneer. "What do you mean, I'm the only onevulnerable? There's no evidence against me, Rostoff, and you know it.Who'd listen to you if you sounded off? I burned that Kraden cruiseruntil there wasn't a sign to be found that would indicate it wasn't inoperational condition when I first spotted it."

  Demming grunted his amusement again.

  Max Rostoff laughed sourly. "Don't be an ass, Mathers. We took a seriesof photos of that derelict when we stumbled on it. Not only can we proveyou didn't knock it out, we can prove that it was in good shape beforeyou worked it over. I imagine the Fleet technician would have loved tohave seen the inner workings of that Kraden cruiser--before you lousedit up."

  Demming chuckled flatly. "I wonder what kind of a court martial theygive a hero who turns out to be a saboteur."

  * * * * *

  He ran into her, finally, after he'd been on Callisto for nearly eightmonths. Actually, he didn't remember the circumstances of their meeting.He was in an alcoholic daze and the fog rolled out, and there she wasacross the table from him.

  Don shook his head, and looked about the room. They were
in some sort ofnight spot. He didn't recognize it.

  * * * * *

  He licked his lips, scowled at the taste of stale vomit.

  He slurred, "Hello, Di."

  Dian Fuller said, "Hi, Don."

  He said, "I must've blanked out. Guess I've been hitting it too hard."

  She laughed at him. "You mean you don't remember all the things you'vebeen telling me the past two hours?" She was obviously quite sober. Diannever had been much for the sauce.

  Don looked at her narrowly.