Chapter X

The Lancaster came down at Denver; before Farradyne had the landing ramp out, a spaceport buggy came careening across the field to stop almost at the base of the ship.

"Farradyne?" said the man.

"You're the Bennington man?"

"Sidney Kingman," said the other, showing Farradyne a small case with an identification card and license. "Where is she?"

"Inside."

Kingman handed Farradyne an envelope. He pocketed it and led Kingman into the salon. Norma was there, sitting on the divan, smoking.

"Miss Hannon, Mr. Kingman."

"Another one of your friends?" she sneered.

"No. He's one of yours."

"I have no friends."

"Yes, you have, Miss Hannon. And you have parents--"

Norma leaped to her feet angrily. "You good-for-nothing bum!" she screeched at Farradyne.

"You wouldn't leave me alone, Norma," said Farradyne tiredly. "So I've brought you home."

"I'll come after you," she snarled.

"Not if I see you first," he told her. "This is it."

"I won't go!"

"You'll go," said Farradyne harshly, "if I have to clip you on the chin and help Kingman carry you out on a shutter."

For the first time, Farradyne saw tears of genuine sorrow. There was anger at him, too; but remorse was there a-plenty. "Why hurt them?" she asked. "Why can't they just call me dead and let it go at that? I'm worse than dead."

Then her face froze again and she looked at Kingman. "All right," she said in a hard voice, "let's go and hurt my folks to death. You money-grubbing ghouls."

She started towards the spacelock. Kingman followed. Her face wore a coldly distant expression as she left the Lancaster. Kingman's driver took them off. She did not turn back to look at Farradyne.

And that was that. Farradyne retracted the landing ramp, closed the spacelock, and not long afterwards hiked the Lancaster into the sky and headed for Mercury.