The Many Worlds of Magnus Ridolph

THE KING OF THIEVES

IN ALL the many-colored worlds of the universe no single ethical code shows a universal force. The good citizen on Almanatz would be executed on Judith IV. Commonplace conduct of Medellin excites the wildest revulsion on Earth and on Moritaba a deft thief commands the highest respect. I am convinced that virtue is but a reflection of good intent. - Magnus Ridolph.

"THERE'S much wealth to be found here on Moritaba," said the purser wistfully. "There's wonderful leathers, there's rare hardwoods - and have you seen the coral? It's purple-red and it glows with the fires of the damned! But" - he jerked his head toward the port - "it's too tough. Nobody cares for anything but telex - and that's what they never find. Old Kanditter, the King of Thieves, is too smart for 'em."

Magnus Ridolph was reading about Moritaba in Guide to the Planets:

The climate is damp and unhealthy, the terrain is best described as the Amazon Basin superimposed on the Lunar Alps ...

He glanced down a list of native diseases, turned the page.

In the early days Moritaba served as a base and haven for Louie Joe, the freebooter. When at last the police ships closed in Louie Joe and his surviving followers fled into the jungles and there mingled with the natives, producing a hybrid race, the Men-men - this despite the protests of orthodox biologists that such a union is impossible.

In the course of years the Men-men have become a powerful tribe occupying the section of Moritaba known as Arcady Major, the rumored site of a large lode of telex crystals...

Magnus Ridolph yawned, tucked the book in his pocket. He rose to his feet, sauntered to the port, looked out across Moritaba.

Gollabolla, chief city of the planet, huddled between a mountain and a swamp. There were a Commonwealth Control office, a Uni-Culture Mission, a general store, a school, a number of dwellings, all built of corrugated metal on piles of native wood and connected by rickety catwalks.

Magnus Ridolph found the view picturesque in the abstract, oppressive in the immediate.

A voice at his elbow said, "Quarantine's lifted, sir. You may go ashore."

"Thank you," said Magnus Ridolph and turned toward the door. Ahead of him stood a short barrel-chested man of pugnacious aspect. He darted Magnus Ridolph a bright suspicious glance, then hunched a step closer to the door. The heavy jaw, the small fire-black eyes, the ruff of black hair were suggestive of the simian.

"If I were you, Mr. Mellish," said Magnus Ridolph affably, "I would not take any luggage ashore until I found adequate thief-proof lodgings."

Ellis B. Mellish gave his briefcase a quick jerk. "No thief will get anything from me, I'll guarantee you."

Magnus Ridolph pursed his lips reflectively. "I suppose your familiarity with the tricks is an advantage."

Mellish turned his back. There was a coolness between the two, stemming from the fact that Magnus Ridolph had sold Mellish half of a telex lode on the planet Ophir, whereupon Mellish had mined not only his own property but Magnus Ridolph's as well.

A bitter scene had ensued in Mellish's office, with an exchange of - threats and recriminations - the whole situation aggravated by the fact that the field was exhausted. Coincidentally both found themselves on the first packet for Moritaba, the only other known source of telex crystal.

Now the port opened and the pungent odor of Moritaba rolled into their faces - a smell of dank soil, exultant plant-life, organic decay. They descended the ladder, blinking in the hot yellow light of Pi Aquarii.

Four natives squatted on the ground nearby - slender wiry creatures, brownish-purple, more manlike than not. These were the Men-men - the hybrid race ruled by Kanditter, the King of Thieves. The ship's purser, standing at the foot of the gangplank, turned on them a sharp glance.

"Be careful of those boys," he told Magnus Ridolph and Mellish. "They'll take your eyeteeth if you open your mouth in front of them."

The four rose to their feet, came closer with long sliding steps.

"If I had my way," said the purser, "I'd run 'em off with a club. But - orders say 'treat 'em nice.' " He noticed Mellish's camera. "I wouldn't take that camera with me, sir. They'll make off with it sure as blazes."

Mellish thrust his chin forward. "If they get this camera, they'll deserve it."

"They'll get it," said the purser.

Mellish turned his head, gave the purser a challenging look. "If anyone or anything gets this camera away from me I'll give you another just like it."

The purser shrugged. A buzzing came from the sky. "Look," he said. "There's the copter from Challa."

It was the oddest contraption Magnus Ridolph had ever seen. An enormous hemisphere of wire mesh made a dome over the whole vehicle, an umbrella of close-mesh wire under which the supporting blades swung.

"That's just how fast these johnnies are," said the purser in grudging admiration. "That net is charged - high voltage - as soon as the copter lands. If it wasn't for that there wouldn't be a piece left of it an hour after it touched ground."

Mellish laughed shortly. "This is quite a place. I'd like to be in charge here for a couple of months." He glanced to where Magnus Ridolph stood, quietly watching the copter.

"How about you, Ridolph? Think you're going to leave with your shirt?" He laughed.

"I am usually able to adapt myself to circumstances," said Magnus Ridolph, observing Mellish with detached curiosity. "I hope your camera was not expensive?"

"What do you mean?" Mellish reached for the case. The lid hung loosely; the case was empty. He glanced at the purser, who had tactfully turned his back, then around the field. The four natives sat in a line about thirty feet distant, watching the three with alert amber eyes.

"Which one of them got it?" demanded Mellish, now suffused with a red flush.

"Easy, Mr. Mellish," said the purser, "if you hope to do business with the king."

Mellish whirled on Magnus Ridolph. "Did you see it? Which one - "

Magnus Ridolph permitted a faint smile to pull at his beard. He stepped forward, handed Mellish his camera. "I was merely testing your vigilance, Mr. Mellish. I'm afraid you are poorly equipped for conditions on Moritaba."

Mellish glared a moment, then grinned wolfishly. "Are you a gambling man, Ridolph?"

Magnus Ridolph shook his head. "I occasionally take calculated risks - but gamble? No, never."

Mellish said slowly, "I'll put you this proposition. Now - you're going to Challa?"

Magnus Ridolph nodded. "As you know. I have business with the king."

Mellish grinned his wide yellow-toothed smile. "Let us each take a number of small articles - watch, camera, micro-mac, pocket screen, energizer, shaver, cigarette case, cleanorator, a micro library. Then we shall see who is the more vigilant, the more alert." He raised his bushy black eyebrows.

"And the stakes?" inquired Magnus Ridolph coolly.

"Oh" - Mellish made an impatient gesture.

"You owe me a hundred thousand munits for the telex you filched from my property," said Magnus Ridolph. "Ill take double or nothing."

Mellish blinked. "In effect," he said, "I'd be placing two hundred thousand munits against nothing - since I don't recognize the debt as collectable. But I'll bet you fifty thousand munits cash to cash. If you have that much."

Magnus Ridolph did not actually sneer but the angle of his fine white eyebrows, the tilt of his thin distinguished nose, conveyed an equivalent impression. "I believe I can meet the figure you mention."

"Write me a check," said Mellish. "Ill write you one. The purser will hold the stakes."

"As you wish," said Magnus Ridolph.

The copter took Mellish and Magnus Ridolph to Challa, the seat of Kanditter, the King of Thieves. First they crossed an arm of the old sea-bottom, an unimaginable tangle of orange, purple and green foliage, netted by stagnant pools and occasional pad-covered sloughs.

Then they rose over an army of white cliffs, flew low over a smooth plateau where herds of buffalo-like creatures on six splayed legs cropped mustard-colored shrubs. Down into a valley dark with jungle, toward a grove of tall trees looming above them like plumes of smoke. A clearing opened below, the copter sat down and they were in Challa.

Magnus Ridolph and Mellish stepped out of the copter, looked out through the cage of charged wire. A group of dark, big-eyed natives stood at a respectful distance, shuffling their feet in loose leather sandals with pointed toes.

On all sides houses sat off the ground on stilts, houses built of a blue white-veined wood, thatched with slabs of gray pith. At the end of a wide avenue stood a larger taller building with wings extending under the trees.

Three Earthmen stood watching the arrival of the copter with listless curiosity. One of these, a sallow thin man with a large beak of a nose and bulging brown eyes, suddenly stiffened in unbelief. He darted forward.

"Mr. Mellish! What On earth? I'm glad to see you!"

"I'm sure, Tomko, I'm sure," said Mellish. "How's everything going?"

Tomko glanced at Magnus Ridolph, then back to Mellish. "Well - nothing definite yet, sir. Old Kanditter - that's the king - won't make any concessions whatever."

"We'll see about that," said Mellish. He turned, raised his voice to the copter pilot. "Let us out of this cage."

The pilot said, "When I give you the word, sir, you can open that door - right there." He walked around the copter. "Now."

Mellish and Magnus Ridolph passed outside, each carrying a pair of magnesium cases.

"Can you tell me," inquired Magnus Ridolph, "where lodging may be found?"

Tomko said doubtfully, "There's usually a few empty houses around. We've been living in one of the wings of the king's palace. If you introduce yourself he'll probably invite you to do likewise."

"Thank you," said Magnus Ridolph. "I'll go pay my respects immediately."

A whistle came to his ears. Turning, he saw the copter pilot beckoning to him through the wire. He went as close to the charged mesh as he dared.

"I just want to warn you," said the pilot. "Watch out for the king. He's the worst of the lot. That's why he's king. Talk about stealing - whoo!" Solemnly shaking his head, he turned back to his copter.

"Thank you," said Magnus Ridolph. He felt a vibration through his wrist. He turned, said to the nearby native, "Your knife makes no impression in the alloy of the case, my friend. You would do better with a heat-needle."

The native slid quietly away. Magnus Ridolph set out for the king's palace. It was a pleasant scene, he thought, reminiscent of ancient Polynesia. The village seemed clean and orderly. Small shops appeared at intervals along the avenue - booths displaying yellow fruit, shiny green tubes, rows of dead shrimp-like insects, jars of rust-colored powder. The proprietors sat in front of the booths, not behind them.

A pavilion extended forward from the front of the palace, and here Magnus Ridolph found Kanditter, the King of Thieves, sitting sleepily in a low deep chair. He was to Magnus Ridolph's eye distinguishable from the other natives only by his headdress - a coronet-like affair woven of a shiny red-gold metal and set with telex crystals.

Unaware of the exact formalities expected of him, Magnus Ridolph merely approached the king, bowed his head.

"Greetings," said the king in a thick voice. "Your name and business?"

"I am Magnus Ridolph, resident of Tran, on Lake Sahara, Earth. I have come - to state the matter briefly - to - "

"To get telex?"

"I would be foolish to deny it."

"Ho!" The king rocked back and forth, pulled back his sharp dark features in a fish-like grin. "No luck. Telex crystal stay on Moritaba."

Magnus Ridolph nodded. He had expected refusal. "In the meantime may I trespass on the royal hospitality?"

The king's grin slowly faded. "Eh? Eh? What you say?"

"Where do you suggest that I stay?"

The king made a sweep of his arm toward the end of his palace. "Much room there. Go around, go in."

"Thank you," said Magnus Ridolph.

To the rear of the palace Magnus Ridolph found suitable quarters - one of a row of rooms facing out on the path like stalls in a stable. The resemblance was heightened by the stable-type door.

It was a pleasant lodging with the trees swaying far overhead, the carpet of red-gold leaves in front. The interior was comfortable though Spartan. Magnus Ridolph found a couch, a pottery ewer filled with cool water, a carved chest built into the wall, a table.

Humming softly to himself, Magnus Ridolph opened the chest, peered within. A soft smile disturbed his beard as he noted the back panel of the chest. It looked solid, felt solid, but Magnus Ridolph knew it could be opened from the outside.

The walls seemed sound - poles of the blue wood were caulked with a putty-like resin and there was no window.

Magnus Ridolph opened his suitcases, laid the goods out on the couch. From without he heard voices, and, looking forth, he saw Mellish rocking on his short legs down the center of the path, bulldog jaw thrust out, hands clenched, elbows swinging wide as he walked. Tomko came to the rear, carrying Mellish's luggage.

Magnus Ridolph nodded courteously, withdrew into his room. He saw Mellish grin broadly to Tomko, heard his comment: "They've got the old goat penned up for sure. Damned if he doesn't look natural with that beard hanging over the door."

Tomko snickered dutifully. Magnus Ridolph frowned. Old goat? He turned back to his couch - in time to catch a dark flicker, a glint of metal.

Magnus Ridolph compressed his lips. His micromac and power pack had disappeared. Peering under the couch, Magnus Ridolph saw a patch of slightly darker fiber in the matting. He straightened his back, just in time to see his pocket screen swinging up through the air into a hole high in the wall.

Magnus Ridolph started to run outside and into the adjoining room, then thought better of it. No telling how many natives would be pillaging his room if he left for an instant. He piled everything back into his suitcases, locked them, placed them in the middle of the floor, sat on the couch, lit a cigarette.

Fifteen minutes he sat in reflection. A muffled bellow made him look up.

"Thieving little blackguards!" he heard Mellish cry. Magnus Ridolph grinned ruefully, rose to his feet and, taking his suitcases, he stepped out into the street.

He found the copter pilot reading a newspaper inside his thief-proof cage. Magnus Ridolph looked through the mesh.

"May I come in?"

The pilot arose, cast the switch. Magnus Ridolph entered, set his suitcases on the ground.

"I just been reading about you," said the pilot.

"Is that right?" asked Magnus Ridolph.

"Yeah - in one of these old newspapers. See - " he pointed out the article with a greasy forefinger. It read:

GHOST-ROBBER APPREHENDED

STARPORT BANK LAUDS EARTH CRIME-DOCTOR

A million munits looted from the Starport Bank were recovered by Magnus Ridolph, noted savant and freelance troubleshooter, who this morning delivered the criminal, Arnold McGurk, 35, unemployed space-man, to Starport police.

After baffling Starport authorities two weeks, Arnold McGurk refused to divulge how he robbed the supposedly thief-proof bank, other than to hint at the aid of 'ghosts.' Magnus Ridolph was similarly uncommunicative and the police admit ignorance of the criminal's modus operandi...

"Wouldn't ever have knowed you was a detective," said the pilot, eyeing Magnus Ridolph reverently. "You don't look the type."

"Thank you," said Magnus Ridolph. "I'm glad to hear it."

The pilot appraised him. "You look more like a professor or a dentist."

Magnus Ridolph winced.

"Just what was them 'ghosts' the article speaks of, Mr. Ridolph?" the pilot inquired.

"Nothing whatever," Magnus Ridolph assured him. "An optical illusion."

"Oh," said the pilot.

"There's something I'd like you to do for me," said Magnus Ridolph.

"Sure - glad to be of help."

Magnus Ridolph scribbled on a page in his notebook. "Take this to the ship right away before it leaves. Give it to the radio operator, ask him to send it ulrad special."

The pilot took the message. "That all?"

"No," said Magnus Ridolph. "There's another ship leaving Starport for Moritaba in - let's see - in four days. Six days passage makes ten days. I should have a parcel on that next ship.

"I want you to meet that ship, take that parcel aboard your copter, deliver it to me here immediately. When I get that parcel I'll pay you two hundred munits. Does that satisfy you?"

"Yes," said the pilot. "I'm off right now."

"Also," said Magnus Ridolph, "there is need for secrecy. Can you keep a close tongue in your head?"

"Haven't heard me say much yet, have you?" The pilot stretched his arms. "I'll see you in about ten days."

"Er - do you have any extra wire and a spare power-pack?" inquired Magnus Ridolph. "I think I'll need some sort of protection."

Magnus Ridolph returned to his room with his suitcases and what electrical equipment the pilot was able to spare. A half hour later he stood back. Now, he thought, next move to the Men-men.

A face appeared at the door - narrow, purple-brown, big-eyed, with a long thin nose, slit mouth, long sharp chin.

"King he want you come eat." The face peered cautiously around the room, brushed the wires Magnus Ridolph had strung up. Crackle - spat. The native yelped, bounded away.

"Ho, ho!" said Magnus Ridolph. "What's the trouble?"

The native uttered a volley of angry syllables, gesticulating, showing his pointed white teeth. Magnus Ridolph at last understood him to say, "Why you burn me, eh?"

"To teach you not to steal from me," Magnus Ridolph explained.

The native hissed scornfully. "I steal everything you got. I great thief. I steal from king. Sometimes I steal everything he got. Then I be king. I best stealer in Challa, you bet. I steal king's crown pretty soon."

Magnus Ridolph blinked his mild blue eyes. "And then?"

"And then - "

"Yes - and then?" came a third voice, harsh, angry. King Kanditter sprang close to the native, struck furiously with a length of cane. The native howled and leapt into the bushes. Magnus Ridolph hastily disconnected the powerpack lest the king receive a shock and inflict a like punishment on himself.

Kanditter threw the cane stalk to the ground, gestured to Magnus Ridolph. "Come, we eat."

"I'll be with you right away," said Magnus Ridolph. He picked up his suitcases, disconnected the powerpack, slung it under his arm and presented himself to the king. "Your invitation comes as a pleasant surprise, your Majesty. I find that carrying my possessions everywhere gives me quite an appetite."

"You careful, eh?" said Kanditter with a wide thin-lipped grin.

Magnus Ridolph nodded solemnly. "A careless man would find himself destitute in a matter of minutes." He looked sidewise at the king. "How do you guard your own property? You must own a great deal - micromacs, powerpacks and the like."

"Woman, she watch now. Woman, she very careful. She lose - ugh!" He flailed his long dark arms significantly

"Women indeed are very useful," agreed Magnus Ridolph.

They marched in silence for a few yards.

"What you like telex for?" the king asked.

"The telex crystal," said Magnus Ridolph, "vibrates - shakes - very fast. Very, very, very, very fast. We use it to send voices to other stars. Voices go very far, very fast, when given shake with telex."

"Too much noise," was the king's observation.

"Where are your fields?" asked Magnus Ridolph ingenuously. "I've heard a great deal about them."

Kanditter merely turned him a side-glance, grinned his narrow grin.

Days passed, during which Magnus Ridolph sat quietly in his lodgings, reviewing recent progress in mathematics, developing some work of his own in the new field of contiguous-opposing programs.

He saw little of Mellish, who spent as much time as possible with the king - arguing, pleading, bluffly flattering, while Tomko was relegated to guarding the luggage.

Magnus Ridolph's barricade proved effective to the extent that his goods were safe so long as he sat within his room. When circumstances compelled him to walk abroad he packed everything into his suitcases, carried them with him. His behavior by no means set him apart or made him conspicuous.

Everywhere could be seen natives carrying their possessions in bags made from the thoraxes of large tree-dwelling insects. Mellish had fitted Tomko with a sack strapped to his chest and locked, in which reposed the objects named in the wager with Magnus ' Ridolph - or rather, those which still remained to him.

With disturbance Magnus Ridolph noted a growing ease and familiarity between Mellish and King Kanditter. They talked by the hour, Mellish plying the king with cigars, the king in his turn supplying wine. Observing this camaraderie, Magnus Ridolph shook his head, muttered. If Kanditter signed away any rights now, before Magnus Ridolph was ready to apply persuasion - what a fiasco!

His worst fears were realized when Kanditter strolled up to where he sat in the shade before his room.

"Good day, your Majesty," said Magnus Ridolph with urbane courtesy. Kanditter flipped a long black hand. "You come tonight. Rig eat, big drink - everybody come."

"A banquet?" inquired Magnus Ridolph, debating within himself how best to avoid participation.

"Tonight we make everybody know big new thing for Men-men. Mellish, he good man - fine man. He need telex, not hurt land. No noise, no bad man, lots of money."

Magnus Ridolph raised his eyebrows. "Have you decided then to award the franchise to Mellish?"

"Mellish good man," said the king, watching Magnus Ridolph interestedly.

"What will you derive personally from the agreement?" inquired Magnus Ridolph.

"How you say?"

"What will you get?"

"Oh - Mellish he make me machine that go round-round in circles. Sit in, music-noise come. Good for king. Name merry-go-round. Mellish he build five-dime store here in Challa. Mellish good man. Good for Men-men, good for king."

"I see," said Magnus Ridolph. .

"You come tonight," said Kanditter, and before Magnus Ridolph could state his excuses he passed on.

The banquet commenced shortly after sundown on the pavilion before the palace. Torches, hanging high in the trees, provided a flaring red light, glanced on the purple-brown natives, glinted on King Kanditter's crown and Magnus Ridolph's suitcases, these latter gripped firmly between their owner's knees.

There was little ceremony connected with the eating. Women passed around the loose circle of men, carrying wooden trays full of fruit, young birds, the shrimp-like insects. Magnus Ridolph ate sparingly of the fruit, tasted the birds, dismissed the dish of insects.

A tray came by with cups of native wine. Magnus Ridolph sipped, watching Mellish, as he talked and made jocose gesticulations near the king. Now the king arose and passed out into the darkness and Mellish occupied himself with his wine.

A great flare like a meteor - down from the darkness hurtled a great cloud of flame, past Magnus Ridolph's head, smashing into the ground at his feet in a great crush of sparks.

Magnus Ridolph relaxed - only a torch had fallen. But how close to his head! Negligence, reprehensible negligence! Or - and he looked around for his suitcases - was it negligence? The suitcases were gone. Perhaps the element of chance was lacking from the episode.

Magnus Ridolph sat back. Gone not only were the articles of the wager but also all his fresh clothes, his papers, his careful work on the contiguous-opposed programs.

King Kanditter presently stepped forward into the light, vented a short shrill scream. The banqueters immediately became quiet.

Kanditter pointed to Mellish. "This man is friend. He give good things to Kanditter, to all Men-men. He give merry-go-round, he give five-dime store, he build big water that shoot into the air - right here in Challa. Mellish is good. Tomorrow Kanditter, king of Men-men, give telex to Mellish."

Kanditter sat down, and the normal chitter and clatter was resumed. Mellish sidled on his short legs around behind the stiffly formal Magnus Ridolph.

"You see, my friend," said Mellish hoarsely, "that's how I do things. I get what I go after."

"Remarkable, remarkable."

"By the way," and Mellish pretended to be searching around Magnus Ridolph's feet. "Where are your suitcases? Don't tell me they're gone! Stolen? What a pity! But then - a mere fifty thousand munits - what's that, eh, Ridolph?"

Magnus Ridolph turned Mellish a deceptively mild glance. "You have a negligent attitude toward money."

Mellish swung his long arms vigorously, looked across the pavilion at Kanditter. "Money means very little to me, Ridolph. With the telex concession - or without it for that matter - I can arrange that things happen the way I want them to happen."

"Let us hope," said Magnus Ridolph, "that events continue to respond so facilely to your wishes. Excuse me, I think I hear the copter."

He hurried to the clearing. The pilot was climbing out of the cabin. He waved to Magnus Ridolph. "Got your package."

"Excellent." He reached in his pocket. "Ho! The blackguards have even picked my pocket!" He turned a rueful look to the pilot. "I'll pay you your fee in the morning - with a bonus. Now - would you assist me with this parcel to my room?"

"Sure thing." The pilot lifted one end of the long package, Magnus Ridolph the other, and they set off along the avenue.

Halfway they met King Kanditter, who eyed the bundle with a great deal of interest. "What that?"

"Ah," said Magnus Ridolph, "it's a wonderful new machine - very fine."

"Ch-ch-ch," said the king, gazing after them.

At his room Magnus Ridolph paused, mused a moment. "Now lastly," he said, "may I borrow your flash-lamp till tomorrow?"

The pilot handed him the article. "Just don't let those little devils snitch it."

Magnus Ridolph made a noncommittal remark, bade the pilot goodnight. Alone, he snapped loose the tapes, tore aside the fabric, pulled a can from out the case, then a large alumin box with a transparent window.

Magnus Ridolph peered within, chuckled. The box seemed full of moving flitting shapes - gauzy things only half visible. In a corner of the box lay a rough black pitted sphere, three inches in diameter. Magnus Ridolph opened the can which had come with the parcel, poured a few drops of its contents over the flash-lamp, set the lamp on his bed. Then, carrying the box outside, he sat and waited. Five - ten minutes passed.

He looked inside, nodded in satisfaction. The flash-lamp had disappeared. He returned within, rubbed his beard. Best to make sure, he thought. Looking outside, he saw the pilot lounging in front of Mellish's room, talking to Tomko. Magnus Ridolph called him over.

"Would you be kind enough to watch my box till I get back? I'll be gone only a moment."

"Take your time," said the pilot. "No hurry."

"I won't be long," said Magnus Ridolph. He poured some of the oil from the can upon his handkerchief, while the pilot watched curiously, then set off back down the street to the king's quarters.

He found Kanditter in the pavilion, quaffing the last of the wine. Magnus Ridolph made him a courteous greeting.

"How is your machine?" inquired Kanditter.

"In good condition," said Magnus Ridolph. "Already it has produced a cloth which makes all metal shine like the sun. As a sign of my friendship, I want you to have it."

Kanditter took the handkerchief gingerly. "Make shine, you say."

"Like gold," said Magnus Ridolph. "Like telex crystal."

"Ah." Kanditter turned away.

"Good night," said Magnus Ridolph, and returned to his quarters. The pilot departed and Magnus Ridolph, with a brisk rub of his hands, opened the alumin box, reached within, took the pitted black ball out, laid it on his bed. Flipping, running, flowing out of the box came two - four-six - a dozen filmy creatures, walking, gliding, flitting on gossamer legs, merging into shadows, sometimes glimpsed, for the most part barely sensed.

"Be off with you," said Magnus Ridolph. "Be off and about, my nimble little friends. You have much work to do."

Twenty minutes later a ghostly flickering shape scuttled in through the door, up upon the bed, laid a powerpack tenderly beside the rough black sphere.

"Good," said Magnus Ridolph. "Now off again - be off!"

Ellis B. Mellish was wakened the next day by an unusual hubbub from the pavilion. He raised his head from the pillow, peered out through puffed red eyes.

"Shut off that racket," he grunted.

Tomko, who slept spread-eagled across Mellish's luggage, sat up with a jerk, rose to his feet, stumbled to the door, squinted up the street.

"There's a big crowd up by the pavilion. They're yelling something or other - can't make it out."

A slender purple-brown face looked in the door. "King say come now." He waited expectantly.

Mellish made a rasping noise in his throat, turned over in his bed. "Oh - all right. I'll come." The native left. "Officious barbarians," muttered Mellish.

He rose, dressed, rinsed his face in cold water. "Confounded glad to be leaving," he told Tomko. "Just as soon live back in the Middle Ages."

Tomko expressed his sympathy, handed Mellish a fresh towel.

At last Mellish stepped out in the street, ambled up toward the palace. The crowd in the pavilion had not dwindled. Rather it seemed thicker - rows of Men-men, squatting, rocking, chattering.

Mellish paused, looked across the narrow purple-brown backs. His mouth dropped as if a weight had jerked his chin down.

Good morning, Mellish," said Magnus Ridolph.

"What are you doing there?" barked Mellish. "Where's the king?"

Magnus Ridolph puffed at his cigarette, flicked the ashes, crossed his legs. "I'm the king now - the King of Thieves."

"Are you crazy?"

"In no respect," was the reply. "I wear the coronet - ergo, I am king." He nudged with his foot a native squatting beside him. "Tell him, Kanditter."

The ex-monarch turned his head. "Magnus now king. He steal crown - he king. That is law of the Men-men. Magnus he great thief."

"Ridiculous!" stormed Mellish, taking three steps forward. "Kanditter, what about our deal?"

"You'll have to dicker with me," came Magnus Ridolph's pleasant voice. "Kanditter has been removed from the situation."

"I'll do no such thing," declared Mellish, black eyes glittering. "I made a bargain with Kanditter - "

"It's no good," said Magnus Ridolph. "The new king has annulled it. Also - before we get too far astray - in the matter of that fifty-thousand munit bet I find that I have all my own gear except my watch and, I believe, a large proportion of yours also. Stolen honestly, you understand - not confiscated by royal decree."

Mellish chewed his lip. He looked up suddenly. "Do you know where the telex lode is?"

"Exactly."

"Well," said Mellish bluffly, coming forward, "I'm a reasonable man."

Magnus Ridolph bent his head, became interested in the heatgun he had extricated from his pocket. "Another one of Kanditter's treasures - you were saying?"

"I'm a reasonable man," stuttered Mellish, halting.

"Then you will agree that five hundred thousand munits is a fair value to set on the telex concession. And I'd like a small royalty also - one percent of the gross yield is not exorbitant. Do you agree?"

Mellish swayed. He rubbed his hand across his face.

"In addition," said Magnus Ridolph, "you owe me a hundred thousand for looting my property on Ophir and fifty thousand on our wager."

"I won't let you get away with this!" cried Mellish.

"You have two minutes to make up your mind," said Magnus Ridolph. "After that time I will send an ulrad message filing the concession in my own name and ordering equipment."

Mellish sagged. "King of thieves - king of bloodsuckers-extortioners - that's a better name for you! Very well, I'll meet your terms."

"Write me a check," suggested Magnus Ridolph. "Also a contract stipulating the terms of the agreement. As soon as the check is deposited and a satisfactory entry made in my credit book the required information will be divulged."

Mellish began to protest against the unexpected harshness of Magnus Ridolph's tactics - but, meeting the mild blue eyes, he halted in mid-sentence. He looked over his shoulder.

"Tomko! Where are you, Tomko?"

"Right here, sir."

"My checkbook."

Tomko hesitated.

^Well?"

"It has been stolen, sir."

Magnus Ridolph held up a hand. "Hush, Mr. Mellish, if you please. Don't rail at your subaltern. If I'm not mistaken I believe I have that particular checkbook among my effects."

Night had fallen in Challa and the village was quiet. A few fires still smouldered and cast red flickers along the network of stilts supporting the huts.

A pair of shadows moved along the leaf-carpeted lane. The bulkiest of these stepped to the side, silently swung open a door.

Crackle! Snap! "Ouch!" brayed Mellish. "Hoo!"

His lunges and thrashing broke the circuit. The current died and Mellish stood gasping hoarsely.

"Yes?" came a mild voice. "What is it?"

Mellish took a quick step forward, turned his hand-lamp on the blinking Magnus Ridolph.

"Be so good as to turn the light elsewhere," protested the latter. "After all, I am King of Thieves, and entitled to some small courtesy."

"Sure," said Mellish, with sardonic emphasis. "Certainly, Your Majesty. Tomko - fix the light."

Tomko set the light on the table, diffused the beam so as to illuminate the entire room.

"This is a late hour for a visit," observed Magnus Ridolph. He reached under his pillow.

"No you don't," barked Mellish, producing a nuclear pistol. "You move and I'll plug you."

Magnus Ridolph shrugged. "What do you wish?"

Mellish settled himself comfortably in a chair. "First I want that check and the contract. Second I want the location of that lode. Third I want that crown. Seems like the only way to get what you want around here is to be king. So I intend to be it." He jerked his head. "Tomko!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Take this gun. Shoot him if he moves."

Tomko gingerly took the gun.

Mellish leaned back, lit a cigar. "Just how did you get to be king, Ridolph? What's all this talk about ghosts?"

"I'd prefer to keep that information to myself."

"You talk!" said Mellish grimly. "I'd just as soon shoot you as not."

Magnus Ridolph eyed Tomko steadying the nuclear gun with both hands. "As you wish. Are you familiar with the planet Archaemandryx?"

"I've heard of it - somewhere in Argo."

"I have never visited Archaemandryx myself," said Magnus Ridolph. "However, a friend describes it as peculiar in many respects. It is a world of metals - mountain ranges of metallic silicon - "

"Cut the guff," snapped Mellish. "Get on with it!"

Magnus Ridolph sighed reproachfully. "Among the types of life native to this planet are the near-gaseous creatures which you call ghosts. They live in colonies, each centered on a nucleus. The nucleus serves as the energizer for the colony. The ghosts bring it fuel, it broadcasts energy on a convenient wavelength. The fuel is uranium and any uranium compound is eagerly conveyed to the nucleus.

"My friend thought to see commercial possibilities in this property - namely the looting of the Starport Bank. He accordingly brought a colony to New Acquitain, where he daubed a number of hundred-Munit notes with an aromatic uranium compound, deposited them at the bank. Then he opened the box and merely waited till the ghosts returned with millions in uranium-permeated banknotes.

"I chanced to be nearby when he was apprehended. In fact" - and Magnus Ridolph smoothed the front of his blue and white nightshirt - "I played a small part in the event. However, when the authorities thought to ask how he had perpetrated the theft the entire colony had disappeared."

Mellish nodded appreciatively. "I see. You just got the king to daub everything he owned with uranium and then let the things loose."

"Correct."

Mellish blew out a plume of smoke. "Now I want directions to get to the lode."

Magnus Ridolph shook his head. "That information will be given to you only when I have deposited your check."

Mellish grinned wolfishly. "You'll tell me alive - on I'll find out from Kanditter tomorrow with you dead. You have ten seconds to make up your mind."

Magnus Ridolph raised his eyebrows. "Murder?" He glanced at Tomko, who stood with beaded forehead holding the nuclear pistol.

"Call it that," said Mellish. "Eight - nine - ten! Are you going to talk?"

"I can hardly see my way clear to - "

Mellish looked at Tomko. "Shoot him."

Tomko's teeth chattered; his hand shook like a twig in a strong wind.

"Shoot him!" barked Mellish.

Tomko squeezed shut his eyes, pulled the trigger. Click!

"Perhaps I should have mentioned," said Magnus Ridolph, "that among the first of the loot my ghosts brought me was the ammunition of your pistol which as you know is uranium." He produced his own heat-gun. "Now, goodnight, gentlemen. It is late and tomorrow will be more convenient for levying the fifty-thousand munit fine your offenses call for."

"What offenses?" blustered Mellish. "You can't prove a thing."

"Disturbing the rest of the King of Thieves is a serious crime," Magnus Ridolph assured him. "However, if you wish to escape, the trail overland back to Gollabolla begins at the end of this lane. You would not be pursued."

"You're crazy. Why, we'd die in the jungle."

"Suit yourself," was Magnus Ridolph's equable reply. In any event, good night."