Under the Skin

When the Martian authorities got the news from Ul they appealed to Ferne for assistance. The U.F.S. Rocket Auxiliary was the fastest transportation available on Mars, faster than anything the Martians had. The Ambassador ordered the rocket fleet to assist in the immediate evacuation of stricken Ulans to Marsport medical stations.

In addition a team of Martian and Earth Federation technicians boarded the lead ship, Electra. Equipment, food and medical supplies were crowded into the remaining ships. And a large fleet of Martian land machines went into action. The land machines were like enormous onyx bowling balls, rolling heavily but smoothly on bands of gripper treads. They would go as far as they could into the hills, and the clumsy, short-hop Martian wings would make the rest of the trip to Ul.

Of course the monster maw of public interest on Earth devoured the first news like a cocktail sandwich and clamored hungrily for more. In those days news from Mars took priority. The New York bureau of Universal News was explicit about wanting full coverage--and pictures.

And this was where Deborah Wayne first came into the picture--unfortunately. Deborah was a nice girl, a bright girl, and brilliant with her super-speed, super-sensitive cameras. But I think, now, that the psychologist who screened her for that career was drunk. She was supposed to be ready to cope with the rigors and exigencies of the frontier. But in the showdown she turned out to be a sentimental slob who all but got us kicked off Mars.

I didn't think about Debby when the news first broke. I might never have thought of her myself, but the New York bureau did. When their orders came in on the Spacetron, the message link between Earth and Marsport, I was alone in our office with Charley Ray of Galactic News. I read him the tape as it came off the machine.

QUOTE PROSTEVELASKER EXWILSON COLON UNPICKLE SELF AND SUBQUOTE TALENT UNSUBQUOTE FOR FULLEST DISASTER COVERAGE WITH PICTURES PERIOD OFFER WAYNE BONUS IF DANGEROUS PERIOD REQUIRE LEAD FOR BLUELINE CASTS AND FULLEST UL BACKGROUNDING END UNQUOTE

"And where do you suppose Debby is?" Charley said. "To think I could have forgotten her!"

"Debby!" I said. "Pictures!" I was thinking that the insatiable human glut for horror and tragedy was a pretty sad and unchanging constant in our Earth civilization.

"They want a real production," I said bitterly. "With a gallon count on the blood running in the streets."

"And you get paid for counting it accurately," Charley said. "We got an hour. Feel noble when we're comfortable. And on our way. With Debby. I won't go without her. Mad about the girl."

"Mad," I agreed. "You'd better call our office and then check with Ferne's office on which crate we get to ride in. While I try to locate that two-legged witch."

Kibby came in. He was relief man and almost always shrouded in an alcoholic fog from which the cleanest, clearest prose emerged. He nodded at us, noticed we were looking less bored than usual and picked up the tape for the answer. He groaned. "You mean I have to work this morning? With this head? Background on Ul! The rockpile of Mars."

"Yop," I told him. "SOS came in a couple of hours ago to the communications center. Galactic and Universal got the flash from the stringer in Faleeng, the nearest point to Ul. Sounds real rough out there. And interesting. This is the closest we've ever come to their diranium. But first I have to find Debby."

As I talked, I was looking over a list of stations.

"Ruin my day, altogether," Kibby muttered.

"Try the Celestial. She said she was doing a film on those historic ruins outside of Marsport. The Celestial's the only dump you can stay in out there."

I rang up the Celestial. She had left hours ago.

"Great," I groaned. "She could be anywhere."

Charley put a cigarette in his mouth. And in between the calls I made to different places on the list he told me the seats reserved for the press, us, were on the Starfish. We were going along with some crates of blankets and two mine experts, Sam Vechi and his assistant, Raeburn.

"But no pictures of the mines," Charley said. "Or the mining equipment. This order is backed up with RA zap guns. Dipple, over there, was very emphatic. If he didn't know much about anything else, he knew that. I'm surprised he managed to figure out how we were going to get to Ul."

Kibby was at the water cooler, his head pressed lovingly against the cold metal cylinders. "Why are they letting Vechi go along? He's no humanitarian. His interest on Mars is diranium and they're giving him a chance to run through it barefoot."

"Pure conjecture," I said, cautiously but not convincingly. I had given up trying to locate Deborah. "It's a mine area and Vechi is an engineer. With all that education he should be some help."

Vechi was a hard guy to figure and pretty much on his own for a member of the small Earth Federation colony. He was more or less attached to the United Federated States Geological Research Expedition. But he was a free-lancer, too, and disappeared from Marsport for months at a time. It gave rise to rumors about his being an agent on the side for some big mine development syndicate on Earth. His comings and goings were mysterious but you couldn't pin a thing on him. Vechi was slippery, smooth and indefinably unpleasant. But smart.

I had just suggested we haul our equipment out of the locker when the door slid open. Deborah, her red hair half over her eyes as usual, came in--a blazing little fireball of energy. She was going full blast. I shrank within myself and wanted to crawl under a desk. If Charley thought this was enchanting and feminine, he could have it.

Although--she had the throatiest, most electrifying voice I had ever heard. It was a muted female foghorn with a lovely liquid cold. It turned my spine to wax even though I got angry the minute she opened her mouth and used it to say, witheringly, "What's the matter? How many people have to die before you big shots get interested? You two wouldn't dream of offering to help even if you aren't going after the story!"

"I've been trying to get hold of you," I said coldly.

She just looked her contempt. "I've been at rescue headquarters since 6:00 a.m. You might have tried there. Two thousand people face death, you know."

"And little Deborah has trundled out her armor and is in there pitching like mad," I said.