Lanyon wore out his welcome on both Hobson’s Planet and Catonia, the first two planets discovered by Earth, after some harrowing adventures. He now travels the second planetary system discovered by Earth, hiring himself out to people in need of his services and special skill-set. His pocketmailer message to the planets: LANYON, FOR HIRE: WITH RATOR.
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“Open the door,” said the taller Malcosian.
Lanyon placed his palm against the identicator and opened the door. The taller Malcosian pushed him up the first few steps.
What’s this all about? Lanyon asked himself as he opened the door to his room.
“Sit,” the taller Malcosian barked.
Lanyon sat on the edge of the bed.
“Who the hell—?”
The shorter Malcosian struck Lanyon across the face with the handle of his pistol. Lanyon tried to soften the blow by spinning to his right, but the Malcosian moved too quickly. After striking him, the Malcosian stepped next to the bed and placed the barrel of his pistol against Lanyon’s ear.
“We’re not going to kill you,” said the taller Malcosian asthe shorter one jabbed the pistol barrel sharply against Lanyon’s head. “We want you to know and tell others, especially Predamor and the over-minister, you will not return to Vermenia for any reason. If you do, we will kill you for sure. Julmon has seen enough of you.”
The shorter Malcosian’s translator beeped three times as he barked what sounded like siksukensin, an untranslatable epithet Lanyon had never heard before, and drew back his arm to pistol whip a stunning blow across Lanyon’s cheek. Lanyon slumped onto his side on the bed.
“We make ourselves clear, I hope,” the taller man said.
Lanyon blinked a few times and reminded himself to breath steadily. “You do,” he mumbled and clenched his muscles when he saw the shorter Malcosian adjust his pistol and fire.