My brain began to click. "So your mysterious 'they' didn't want a top-drawer story to center around Frostbite. If it did, there'd be follow-ups, more reporters, ICC people investigating the explosion. Since the news break came from Gammadion, that's where the reporters would head and that's where the ICC investigation would be based. But what have they got to hide? The political setup here smells to high heaven, but it's no worse than on fifty other planets. Graft, liquor, vice, drugs, gambling—"
"No drugs," said the furrier.
"That's silly," I told him. "Of course they have drugs. With everything else, why not drugs?"
He shrugged apologetically. "Excuse me," he said. "I told you I was a reformer, and an idealist. I did not mention that I used to be an occasional user of narcotics. A little something to take the pressure off—those very small morphine sulphate tablets. You can imagine my horror when I emigrated to this planet twenty-eight years ago and found there were no drugs—literally. Believe me when I tell you that I—
looked hard. Now, of course, I am grateful. But I had a few very difficult weeks." He shuddered, finished his prune brandy and filled both our glasses again.
He tossed down his glass.
"Damn it all!" he exploded. "Must I rub your nose in it? Are you going to figure it out for yourself? And are you going to get killed like my poor friend, Kennedy? Look here! And here!" He lurched to his feet and yanked down "WHO'S WHO IN THE GALAXY" and the United Planets Drug Committee Report.
His pudgy finger pointed to:
"PARSONS, George Warmerdam, organic chemist, news-ppr pubr, b.
Gammadion 172, s. Henry and Dolores (Warmerdam) P., studied Gammadion Chem. Inst. B.Ch 191, M.Ch 193, D.Ch 194; empl. dir research Hawley Mfg Co. (Gammadion) 194-198; founded Parsons Chem Mfg Labs (Gammadion) 198, headed same 198-203; removed Frostbite 203; founded newspaper Frostbite Phoenix 203. Author, tech papers organ chem 193-196. Mem Univ Organ Chem Soc. Address c/o Frostbite Phoenix, Frostbite."
And in the other book:
"—particular difficulty encountered with the stupefiant known as 'J-K-B.' It was first reported on Gammadion in the year 197, when a few isolated cases presented themselves for medical treatment. The problem rapidly worsened through the year 203, by which time the drug was in widespread illicit interplanetary commerce. The years 203-204 saw a cutting-ofl of the supply of J-K-B for reasons unknown. Prices soared to fantastic levels, unnumbered robberies and murders were committed by addicts to obtain possession of the minute quantities remaining on the market, and other addicts, by the hundreds of thousands presented themselves to the authorities hoping more or less in vain for a 'cure.' J-K-B appeared again in the year 205, not confined to any segment of the inhabited galaxy. Supplies have since remained at a constant level—enough to brutalize, torment, and shorten the lives of the several score million terrestrial and extra-terrestrial beings who have come into its grip. Interrogation of peddlers intercepted with J-K-B has so far only led back through a seemingly endless chain of middlemen. The nature of the drug is such that it cannot be analyzed and synthesized—"
My head spun over the damning parallel trails. Where Parsons tried his wings in chemistry, J-K-B appeared. When he went on his own, the quantity increased. When he moved to another planet, the supply was cut off. When he was established, the supply grew to a constant level and stayed there.
And what could be sweeter than a thoroughly corrupt planet to take over with his money and his newspaper? Dominate a machine and the members' "regularity" wfll lead them to kill for you—or to kill killers if need be. Encourage planetary ignorance and isolationism; keep the planet unattractive and depressed by letting your free-booters run wild—that'll discourage intelligent immigration. Let token parties in, fleece them fast and close, let them spread the word that Frostbite's no place for anybody with brains.
"A reformer and idealist I am," said Portwanger calmly. "Not a man of action. What should be done next?'
I thought it over and told him; "If it kills me, and it might, I am going to send a rash of flashes and bulletins from this Godforsaken planet. My love life depends on it Leon, do you know anybody on Mars?"
"A Sirian fellow named Wenjtkpli—a philosophical anarchist. An unreal position to take. This is the world we are to, there are certain social leverages to apply. Who is he to say—?"
I held up my hand. "I know him too." I could taste that eleventh stinger again; by comparison the prune brandy was mellow. I took a gulp. "Do you think you could go to Mars without getting bumped off?"
"A man could try."
The next two weeks were agonizing. Those Assyrian commissars or Russian belshazzars or whatever they were who walked down prison corridors waiting to be shot in the back of the head never went through what I did. I walked down the corridor for fourteen days.
First Leon got off all right on a bucket of bolts. I had no guarantee that he wouldn't be plugged by a crew member who was in on the party.
Then there was a period of waiting for the first note that I'd swap you for a mad tarantula.
It came:
NOTE FRBBUO HOW WELL XPCT KP CLNT IF UN-ABL DROP COPY?
MCG MARSBUO.
I'd paved the way for that one by drinking myself into a hangover on home brew and lying in bed and groaning when I should have been delivering the printer copy to the Phoenix. I'd been insulting as possible to Weems to insure that he'd phone a squawk to McGillicuddy—I hoped. The tipoff was "hell." Profanity was never, ever used on our circuits—I hoped. "Hell" meant "Portwanger contacted me, I got the story, I am notifying United Planets Patrol in utmost secrecy." Two days later came:
NOTE FRBBUO BD CHMN WNTS KNO WOT KIND DAMN KNUCKLHED
FILING ONLY FOURFIVE ITMS DAILY FM XPNSVE ONEMAN BUO.
XPCT UP-STEP PRDCTN IMMY, RPT IMMY MCG MARSBUO.
"Damn" meant "Patrol contacted, preparing to raid Frostbite."
"Fourfive" meant "fourfive"—days from message.
The next note would have got ISN in trouble with the Interplanetary Communications Commission if it hadn't been in a good cause. I'm unable to quote it. But it came as I was in the bureau about to leave for the Honorable Homer With-erspoon's testimonial banquet. I locked the door, took off my parka and rolled up my sleeves. I was going to sweat for the next few hours.
When I heard the multiple roar of the Patrol ships on rockets I very calmly beat out fifteen bells and sent:
INTERSTELLAR FLASH
UNITED PLANETS PATROL DESCENDING ON FROSTBITE, KRUEGER
60-B'S ONLY PLANET, IN UNPRECEDENTED MASS RAID ON TIP OF
INTERSTELLAR NEWS SERVICE THAT WORLD IS SOLE SOURCE OF
DEADLY DRUG J-K-B.
INTERSTELLAR BULLETIN
THE MASSED PATROL OF THE UNITED PLANETS ORGANIZATION
DESCENDED ON THE ONLY PLANET OF KRUEGER 60-B, FROSTBITE, IN AN UNPRECEDENTED MASS RAID THIS EVENING. ON
INFORMATION FURNISHED BY INTERSTELLAR NEWS REPORTER JOE
SPENCER THE PATROL HOPES TO WIPE OUT THE SOURCE OF THE
DEADLY DRUG J-K-B, WHICH HAS PLAGUED THE GALAXY FOR 20
YEARS. THE CHEMICAL GENIUS SUSPECTED OF INVENTING AND
PRODUCING THE DRUG IS GEORGE PARSONS, RESPECTED
PUBLISHER OF FROSTBITE'S ONLY NEWSPAPER.
INTERSTELLAR FLASH
FIRST UNITED PLANETS PATROL SHIP LANDS IN
FROSTBITE CAPITAL CITY OF PLANET.
INTERSTELLAR FLASH
PATROL COMMANDER PHONES EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW TO
INTERSTELLAR NEWS SERVICE FROSTBITE BUREAU REPORTING