[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Thrilling Wonder Stories, April 1947.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
CHAPTER I
Soft Assignment
Captain Alfred Weston entered the room and nodded curtly to the men atthe conference table. Doctor Edwards, holding forth at the head of thetable, nodded as though he had not seen the over-polite greeting. Hewaved the newcomer to an empty seat on the opposite side of the table,and Weston went around to sit down.
Edwards had been talking on some other subject, obviously, but now hedropped it. "Captain Weston," he said, "you are still classified asconvalescent."
"Rank foolishness," grumbled Weston.
"Unfortunately," smiled Edwards, "it is the Medical Corps that makesthe decision. A bit of rest does no man any harm. But, Weston, despitethe convalescent classification, we have a job that seems to be rightup your alley. Want it?"
"You're asking?" said Weston quizzically. "This is no order?"
"As an official convalescent, we cannot order you to duty."
Weston scowled. "I see no choice," he said. His tone was surly, hiswhole attitude inimical.
"Nevertheless, the choice is your own," said Edwards. As psychiatristfor the Medical Corps, Edwards was treading on thin ground. But heknew he must force this disagreement into the open and blast it out ofWeston's mind.
It was a common enough block, but it needed elimination.
"Certainly the choice is mine," said Weston bitterly. "Hobson's Choice.Either I take the job and do it, or I refuse to take it and gain thedisrespect of the entire Corps. I see no choice and therefore I willtake your job—sight unseen!"
"We shall offer the job," said Edwards flatly. "After which you willmake your decision."
"Very well," answered Weston sullenly.
Edwards ignored the tone of the answer. "Weston, you are a rankingofficer. This job requires a ranking officer because it demands someonewhose authority to investigate will not be questioned, scoffed ator ignored. You are now a Captain. We intend to raise your rank toSenior Captain—which is due you and has been withheld only until yourconvalescence is complete.
"We shall offer you a roving order and a four-mark commissioneddirective which will give you authority to requisition whatever itemsyou may need to complete your project. Experimental Spacecraft NumberXXII will be assigned to you."
"You make it very attractive. Shall I now quote the ancient one about'Beware of Greeks bearing gifts'?"
"There is no need for insolence, Weston. You are in excellent positionto do us a service. If you accept it will not be necessary to createa hole in the Corps by removing some other ranking officer from hiscommand. This job will also give you the swing of space once again.You've been out of space now for about a year—"
"Ever since the First Directive attack," said Weston bitterly.
"Right. But look, Weston. Regardless of what opinion the world mayhave, we in this room have reason to believe that there is somethinghidden behind the Jordan Green legend. We want you to get to the bottomof it. Will you do this?"
Weston grunted. He looked across the room to the door beside the blankwall beside the doorframe. On the space above the chair-rail were thescrawled words Jordan Green was here!
They were written in space-chart chalk, which Weston understood to bethe case with the uncounted thousands of such scrawlings sprinkled allover the Solar System. It looked like a hurried scrawl at first glance,