open the jasmine scented envelope.
The note was brief. It said, "Dear Captain Staker: Please call on meat your earliest convenience, Apt. 5B. It is a matter of utmostimportance to both of us. Margo."
Ever since leaving Tom's office, Bill's mind had been spinning about acenter of hatred and ugly rumination. But now the stimulus of thejasmine fragrance struck a spark of adventure on the edge of hischurning mind. The tangential path led off into inviting mysteriousshadows and he was going to follow.
The elevator stopped at the apartment floor of the hotel's northTower. In the softly lighted corridor his feet fell soundlessly on thedeep pile rug. He turned a corner, then walked up a short flight ofsteps to the door of Apt. 5B.
In response to his knock the door was opened by a vision in whitesatin. She was startlingly beautiful. Dark heavy lashes, creamy skin,white even teeth in a flashing smile, a lithe body poised with theease of a jungle cat. She was fulsome and high breasted, and as shefollowed Bill's quick appraising glance, she seemed to smile knowinglythat all he saw was displayed to best advantage.
Hat in hand Bill said, "I'm--I'm Captain Staker."
With a throaty laugh that could have been carefully timed, she said,"And I'm Margo. Come right in Captain."
Bill walked onto a white rug, and unobtrusively took in the richfurniture Twenty First Century Modern, the warm brown of the logarithmruled walls, paintings in the style of Van Gogh, sharply angled tablelamps, the gold drapes at the windows.
"It was kind of you to come so promptly," Margo continued, settlinginto a chair.
Bill brought his glance back to her. "Well, frankly, I was curious toknow what a perfect stranger could have in common with me."
She laughed indulgently. "Nasty of me, wasn't it?--taking advantage ofa human weakness." She gestured at Scotch and bourbon on the coffeetable. "I'll let you do us the honors, Captain. Bourbon for me."
Presently, glass in hand and a spreading warmth in him, Bill fixedthe girl with a quizzical look. "Tell me, Margo, just what is thismatter of utmost importance to both of us?"
She put her glass on the table, then sat back and Bill felt the fullimpact of her dark lustrous eyes. "It's a business matter, Captain.You've been recommended as a man of high purpose and dependability. Asthe heir to my father's controlling interest in Intercontinental LinesI am badly in need of a man with your experience to handle trafficdetails."
Bill lifted a brow. "Intercontinental Lines? Never heard of it.Exclusively airline traffic on Earth?"
"It's a new company formed under monopoly regulations. Of course, Irealize you're a spaceman, but staying on Earth would have itscompensations. You can name your own salary."
Bill leaned forward and mixed another drink. This was somethingunexpected and pretty tempting too. No more fighting his fear ofspace. He downed the drink in a few gulps, then stood up.
"Well, I--I'd like to think things over," he said with hesitation,walking slowly to the window.
Margo followed, saying, "I don't mean to rush you, Bill--yet thesituation needs your experienced hand."
"I know, but my brother and I are all set to make a scouting trip toBeta Quadrant."
Margo leaned against the window drapes, smiling with frank admiration."I know you are. How in the world you can take off from Earth and hita target far out in space is beyond me. Is it something like firingartillery?"
The warm glow already suffusing Bill's senses took on added lustrewhen he looked into her questioning eyes. Expansively, he begandrawing diagrams, and explaining the elements of space navigation.
"Now here's the trajectory my brother and I are planning to use," hewent on, drawing a complex curve with loading figures and fuelconsumption and point of contact with the Beta Quadrant.
When he paused once, Margo touched the gold sunburst emblem on hisarm. "That's fascinating, Bill, but making a trip like yours is all agamble. I'm not offering you a gamble. I'm offering you a sure thing."
"Yes, I realize that." Bill got to his feet. "But just the same I wantto think your proposition over, Margo."
She leaned toward him putting her hands on his lapels. "Bill, don'trisk your neck out there in space. I need you desperately in thecompany."
Suddenly, Bill was electrically aware of cool, smooth arms sliding upand around his neck and her soft red mouth within fragrance distance.
And he was exquisitely aware of the full soft length of her pressingagainst him. The scent of jasmine reached him with bewitching stealth.That was when he closed the gap to her mouth in a sudden rush.
Bill came out of a whirling state of pure feeling to hear thevisiphone buzzing insistently.
"The phone," he mumbled.
Margo opened her eyes dreamily, then comprehended. She walked over tothe phone, picked up the receiver.
After a moment she turned around looking at him questioningly. "It'sfor you, Bill."
He took the phone and said, "Captain Staker speaking."
The desk clerk said, "A gentleman to see you, sir. Shall I send him toApt. 5B?"
"No," Bill answered. "I'll be down to my room in a few moments and seehim there."
He turned to Margo. "I guess business comes before idyll, Margo. I'vegot to go."
Her lustrous dark eyes searched his face intently. "How long must Iwait for an answer, Bill?"
"Can you wait until Thursday--three days?" Time enough to threshthings out with Tom.
"I guess I can," Margo said, touching him with an inviting glance,"but do I have to wait that long before I see you again?"
Bill grinned and shook his head in wonder. "My lord, what persistence!I got an idea any visiting would not be entirely social. Somewherealong the line business would rear its shaggy head. Okay, how aboutdinner at the Wedgewood Room tomorrow night?"
"Wonderful!"
Later at his own floor to his surprise he found Tom pacing thecorridor. In a strained voice he said, "The clerk said a gentleman--"
Tom came back in a conciliatory tone, "And I don't fit thedescription, eh? Well, anyway, Bill, we got things to talk over. Howabout it?"
Bill shrugged noncommittally, unlocked his door and the two entered.Perched on the arm of a chair, Bill lighted a cigarette and pulleddeeply of it.
"Well, what is it?" He glanced coolly at his brother sitting with hisleft leg dangling over the arm of his chair.
Tom cleared his throat and said, "I--er, came to see how we'restacking up, Bill. After all we got a big show on our hands and thewhole world is waiting for the curtain to go up. But we can't besquabbling between ourselves when we go on stage. Let's settle mattersnow and get on with our job--after all we both got a lot at stake inthe company."
Bill studied the end of his cigarette a long moment. "I guess youmight as well count me out, Tom. I'm quitting the show."
Furrows appeared above Tom's brows. "Quitting! And after all you'veput into the venture? Bill, have you gone nuts?" He stopped a moment.Then he said, "Oh, I guess I see the light. Christy, eh? Well, Bill,honest--and I really mean this--you can have all the profits of thetrip if I'm guilty of trying to take Christy away from you. You've gotthe wrong slant on things."
Bill shrugged, saying, "It's not that--and I still am notconvinced--it's just that I'm considering another proposition."
Tom got to his feet in agitation, looking down at Bill incredulously."My God, Bill, you sure have changed! What about all those bullsessions we had reading and rereading the George Staker philosophy offree enterprise? The world needs an object lesson to show how far ithas strayed from those first wonderful days of the Atomic Age. We areheirs, Bill by special franchise, Old George saw the shape of thingsto come pretty clearly, and it's up to us to carry out his vision ofthings as they should be."
Bill ground out his cigarette in a tray. His underlip crowded outstubbornly. "I'm not going."
For a moment Tom stared hard at Bill, and a heavy singing silence laybetween them. Then Tom strode to the door and opened it. "All right,Bill--you and I are through!"
The door sl
ammed. For awhile Bill sat looking at it, wondering why theslammed door reminded him of looking at his reflection in the bathroommirror and telling himself "I'm scared--scared as hell. And if I don'tget hold of myself, I'm through--washed up!"
* * * * *
The next day when he was busily dressing, the ultrafax popped out thebreakfast edition.
"_Space Bird_ takes off for Beta Quadrant. Tom Staker gambles all."
Bill stared at the pictures of the rocket climbing savagely at thehead of a column of fire. The crazy, stubborn fool. Going it alone,risking