I USED TO KNOW HIM

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

     Lors finished dressing himself, buckling the black belt about his waist;

then he looked down at the still form of Ozark's daughter, Gerna, golden

in the light of the overhead bulb. She slept like a baby. He blew a kiss

to her and let his breath out in a rush.

     "If everything goes right," he whispered, "I'll be back before you know

I'm gone. If not..." He let it hang there and checked the loads in the

auto-pistol.

Then he went out into the bright light of the corridor.

* * * * *

      The guard merely accepted his auto-pistol when he stopped at the door to

Danson's prison. Lors gave it to him and the spacer opened the door.

Nick Danson rubbed the beard on his face and grinned at him.

"Forget something, First spacer?" He asked.

When the door closed, Lors said "Shut up."

Danson blinked.

"Sit down."

Danson sat.

"How badly do you want to get off this ship, Danson?"

"How badly do you want to make Commander?" Danson countered and lit a

cigarette.

"You willing to risk your life?"

"Why not? It isn't worth a hell of a lot anyhow."

     Lors reached into Danson's shirt pocket, found the pack of cigarettes

and filched one. Nick touched a match to it and Lors dragged the smoke

into his lungs. He could see the Terran regarding him suspiciously.

"What's the play, First spacer?" Danson asked.

     "You're dead, Nick," Lors said softly, "if you stay on this ship. That

can be either literally, or figuratively speaking, I don't know. It all

depends on Ozark's plans for you."

Nick snorted, "Hell, Lors, it can't be any worse than whatever Imry had

cooked up for me."

"It'll be better. That I can assure you. Ozark is a just man, but he

hasn't much feeling for Terrans..."

"Yeah, I know. The "god" theory."

Lors nodded.

"Well, look, First spacer," Danson said, snubbing out his cigarette.

"Your concern for my welfare touches me deeply, but I don't get it. How

come?"

Lors grinned. "I've been asking myself that same question, and while I

can get answers that make sense to me, I sincerely doubt if they'd make

sense to you.

"Why don't we just say I like you."

"That's rich, but I'll buy it. All I've got to lose is my chains..."

"And your memory."

"Come again?"

Lors sucked on the cigarette. "You can't talk about this thing to anyone

except your wife."

"Who'd believe me anyhow?"

"It's bigger than that, Danson. If you talk to anyone, I'll kill you."

"You don't make sense. Why not kill me now?"

     Lors sighed. "Look, Commander Imry made a booboo, to use one of your

terms, and I got caught in the middle. This whole operation is fouled up

because of what he did. If we don't try to put things back, it's going

to be in a real tough light.

     "For the first time in history, Terra is in possession of a scout ship

even though it is wrecked. Not only that, but they know it. They're hot

on the trail of us. And if enough Terrans get wise to us, we'll be in

trouble. You've read my diaries and journals. You know what it's like up

here. My planet needs Earth as a trade base, and if you people ever wake

up as a race, we'll be able to help each other a hell of a lot. Maybe

that's why I want to take you back to your wife. Is that good enough for

you?"

      Danson nodded. "I guess so. I know enough about this situation to tell

that you're either on the level, or you're a damned convincing liar.

What's the plot?"

"The plot, as you put it, is to get you and Brice back to earth..."

"Brice? CallumBrice? He's here?"

     Lors nodded. "Brice found your watch where my scout ship cracked up and

guessed who I was before I did. I was hiding up at your cabin, trying to

figure things out when he decided to put a bullet into me. Both Margret and

I thought I was you and she was trying to help me figure out what I'd

been doing for thirteen months. Brice came in shooting and my people

kidnapped him."

"Great."

"In any event, I think I can get Brice to the scout ship. I'm going to

rely upon you to spring yourself out of here and get down to the hangar.

You'll pass for me easily. Okay?"

"How do I get past the guard?"

"I'll fix it. If I can't, I'll be back."

"Okay, BuckRogers. It's your show."

Lors grinned at him. "Keep your fingers crossed," he said and went out.