This One Problem Read online

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  _Piracy in the past has acquired the gaudy technicolor of high romance. In the present, piracy is as tawdry as tabloid headlines. But piracy in the far future, when presented as vividly as in this story, can be scary stuff._

  this one problem

  _by ... M. C. Pease_

  The shortest distance between two points may be the long way around--and a path of dishonor may well turn into the high road to virtue.

  Marc Polder, Resident Comptroller of Torran, strolled idly down thedusty littered path that passed for a street. In the half-light of thepint-sized moon overhead the town looked almost romantic. One day, whencivilization had at last been brought to these Asteroid bases, memorywould make Torran heroic. But now, with the fact before the eyes, it wasmerely dirty and squalid. Only the scum of the Solar System called ithome.

  Idly Marc Polder pushed a swinging door aside and entered what passed onTorran for a restaurant. Pushing his way through the tables until he sawhis only aide, Female Personnel Manager Lee Treynor, he sat down.

  "What's new?" he asked.

  "Not a thing." But for a certain softness of voice and curve ofunmade-up lips, Lee could have passed for a boy. Her light hair wasshort, she wore a man's coveralls. She added, "Only the usual murder,arson and brigandage that you don't want to hear about."

  "Don't let such trifles get you down," said Marc with a crookedhalf-smile.

  "I'm fed up," the girl said shortly. "I must have been still wet behindthe ears when I agreed to come out here two months ago. I thought I wasgoing to help establish a place where decent people could live and work.So far I've just watched my boss swig Venerian swamp beer with the worstelements in town, and do nothing about the lawlessness that runs riotall over the place."

  "Look, lady," Marc answered gently, "I certainly admire those loftysentiments of yours. I admit they are maybe what ought to be. But theway I see it they just don't fit the facts. Out here the Federationspace fleet is supposed to be the big stick. Only right now it's offplaying mumbly-peg with the Venerians.

  "The Big Wheels seem to think there'll be a shooting war in a couple ofmonths. There's only three or four destroyers left in the whole damnAsteroid Belt. And without the big stick behind me I'm not hankering tocommit suicide by looking for trouble."

  Marc smiled again ruefully. "What I can do I try to do," he added withsudden earnestness. "I figure the most important thing is to protect theAsteroid Development Company so they can buy the nuclear ore theAstrodites bring in. Without that ore the Federation's going to be in ahell of a fix if it actually does come to war. And along with thatthere's the matter of guarding the stuff the Navy's got stored here." Hewaved toward the Navy warehouse that could be seen outside the window.

  "Listening to and fraternizing with the characters you call the biggestcrooks in town," the comptroller went on with a shrug, "I've a chance atgetting tipped off in advance to anything that may make trouble for ourinterests. As long as I ignore their rackets they accept me in theirmidst, talk freely with me around. And it's a hell of a lot easier tostop something when you know the score beforehand."

  The young woman's lips parted as if she seemed about to say something.Then they closed in a thin line. Obviously she was not happy with MarcPolder's explanation. She was too young to be willing to compromise herideals, no matter how potent the logic of necessity.

  She was about to leave the table when the shrill screams of a distantwhistle sliced through the noise of the crowd. Voices broke off inmid-sentence and bodies froze into immobility. As the siren's piercingtones faded the restaurant's customers looked at one another in silentterror. Then, as the shock wore off and unanswered questions werebeginning to fly, a man suddenly ran in through the revolving doors.

  "Raiders!" he gasped. "The listening gear's picked up a signal that'snot from any Astrodite or destroyer. Signal Corps figures it's apirate!"

  There was a mad rush for the doors and seconds later the place was emptyexcept for Marc Polder, still sitting calmly at the table drinking hisbeer, and Lee Treynor who sat watching him.

  "What are you going to do?" she finally asked.

  "I don't know. What _can_ I do?" Marc said.

  "Good heavens!" the girl exploded. "Are you just going to sit thereguzzling beer while pirates take over the town?" She stared at himincredulously.

  "What do you suggest I do?" the comptroller asked. "We haven't anythingto fight with. There's no way we can get help. As far as I can seethere's nothing we _can_ do--not yet anyway." He calmly lifted hisglass.

  "You mean we're just going to _sit_ here?" the girl gaped.

  "Sure. The others left to hide their money and valuables. I've gotnothing to hide."

  "What about that stuff the Navy has cached in their warehouse?" Leeasked. "That new rocket fuel their destroyers use when they need alittle extra push. Isn't that worth hiding?"

  "The hyper-degenerate-thorium, you mean? I'd like to hide thatsomewhere," Marc conceded. "But where do you hide ten tons of stuff infive minutes? Besides, it wouldn't do the raiders any good. Too hot.It'll burn out their jets. They'd go up like an A-bomb two minutes afterthey threw it on. They know that. Only thing they could do with it issell it to Venus. Not that that would be bad. Shortage of H.D.T.'s maybe the chief reason why there's been no war started yet. But for nowthere's nothing you and I can do." Calmly he lit a cigarette.

  "Of course," he went on, smiling, "we _could_ bum a ride out with someof the company men. No doubt they're all hightailing it away from herein their space-buggies."

  "I'm surprised," Lee said with a trace of sarcasm, "that you're notdoing just that, leaving me and the other women to the beasts!"

  Marc eyed her unblinkingly. "You know as well as I do that most of thefemales on this asteroid take pirates in their stride. They might evenwelcome a change of partners. As for you"--he paused--"you stick closeto me and keep your pretty mouth shut. I think we'll manage somehow."

  In silence they walked back to the comptroller's office.

  "Marc," Lee said as they entered, "what about the new radar? Maybe wecould get a message out with it, in code or something."

  "What?" Marc turned, astonished. "You want to play our only hole-card onan off-chance like that? There aren't more than four or five peoplehere who even know it's been set up on the other side of the asteroid.There's hardly a chance the raiders will find out about it. And you wantto blast the news at them!" He looked disgusted.

  The girl said stubbornly, "You can't just give up without a fight. Andthat's our only weapon."

  "Look," Marc said grimly, "that's only a second-hand destroyer radar, soit wouldn't carry far. No. I'm not going to use it on any suchharebrained scheme as that. And if you breathe a word about it I'll takeyou apart." He added with a faint smile, "Not that _that_ wouldn't be apleasure."

  Looking at him she knew he meant the tender joke and the knowledgehelped her.

  "I think," Marc went on after a moment, "I'd better warn the boys overon the radar project or they might accidentally start it up while theraiders are here." He closed the door as he went into the inner officeto make the call.

  A moment later he emerged and studied the still angry girl throughhalf-closed eyes. She blushed under his scrutiny, said coldly, "What'sthe matter? Afraid I'm not attractive enough for our visitors?"

  He grinned. "You could do with a mite of padding here and there. But Iwas thinking the other way, as a matter of fact. It's a pity you don'thave a small mustache."

  "You don't have to insult me!" Lee cried bitterly. "I'm _glad_ I'mthin!"

  "I'm not insulting you," Marc said mildly. "I even wish you were a bitskinnier. It's t
he plump girls our guests are going to be looking atfirst. Remember now--you stick right with me and keep your mouth shut,d'you hear?"

  "I hear," she said shortly. But he could see the fear she was trying tohide and he knew she was honestly frightened for the first time in heradult life. She said, "What will they--be like?"

  "If it's John Mantor, and I suspect it is, they'll be rough,"