Henry Slesar

“ They were kids, all of them, banded together for mutual defense and in common antagonism toward the world. When he clambered out of the copter, his rescuer grinned and said:
"This is it, pal. This is where the gang meets."
"The Red Rockets?"
"Yeah. This is Shock's house. He's the leader."
They had to descend by stairs; there was no building elevator. When they reached the second floor, the boy put a finger to his lips, and rapped one-two, two-two on the apartment door.
A boy no older than Ron's new body opened it. His dark pinched face grew smaller and darker when he saw the stranger. ”

“ So if you want to join the Rockets, you'll know where your orders come from."
Shock helped him to his feet. "Right, Ronnie boy?"
Ron shook his head, still bewildered.
"Good deal," Shock said. "Now let's finish that game. You play, kid?"
"No," Ron said. He staggered towards a wooden chair on the side of the room and dropped on it heavily. "No," he repeated, still trying to regain his breath.
Play the game....
His rescuer sat beside him. "Don't mind that guy," he whispered. "He does that to everybody. He got some kind of a power in his hands. But he's not a bad guy. Honest." ”

“ Larkin, the athletic director."
Ron hesitated. "Mr. Larkin, I—where am I?"
"Don't you know?" Even the man's smile was half a frown. "You're at Roverwood Home for Boys. Didn't they tell you that?"
"No," Ron said carefully. "I—I don't seem to remember very much. How I got here, I mean."
"Dr. Minton brought you in last evening. He's one of our directors."
"Oh." Ron laced on the tiny scuffed shoes. "And where's Dr. Minton now?"
"Gone back to the city. He's a busy man. Hear they've got him working on some big government project. Well, come on, Ronnie. Breakfast's waiting." ”

“ Another Evens man, a burly youth of fourteen, took command of it, neatly getting the airball in the sight of his airjet and cork-screwing it towards the goalpost. Ron had grown too old before the game of airball had become popular with the nation's youngsters, but he had seen enough action to have learned some tricks. He pointed his PF directly for the Even machine, and kept coming. The burly youth looked up, startled at the onslaught, and pulled his Flyer away. ”

“ Shock said slowly. "But if you're pullin' something—" He balled his hands menacingly.
They went down to the lower level together. Shock bought himself a public locker, and shoved the gun inside. Then he held up the key.
"Here it is, pal. Two hundred bucks worth."
Ron handed him the money. Shock whistled at the sight of the bills.
"Now," Ron said. "Would you like to make a hundred more?"
He looked at Ron with respect. "Okay. What's the pitch?"
"I want you to make a phone call for me."
"Yeah, sure." Shock looked bewildered. Then Ron explained. ”

“ Because you're a menace to homo sapiens? Because of your contempt for us ordinary mortals? Hell, no, Scholar! I'm too ordinary myself. I'm killing you for me, for Ron Carver! Because I'm sore! Just plain sore!"
He raised the gun.
For a moment, Ron didn't know what had happened. Something else blurred his vision, a fast-moving figure bulking up in front of his target. It was only when he heard the voice that he recognized the intruder as Dr. Minton, and he saw then that the doctor had rescued the Scholar from certain death.
"Stop, Ron—"
"Doctor! ”

“ This body—"
"Yes, Ron. It's his, of course. He grew angry with it; wanted to discard it, like everything else which doesn't fit his conception of the fitness of things. It was awkward—a giant's brain in a child's body. So he developed a solution—an operation, involving the total transference of electrical energy...."
The doctor's shaggy head bowed. "He needed human help for that. That's when I was brought in as assistant. And it was my function to select the perfect body as a temporary house for his ego...."
"Temporary?"
"When this body ages and grows feeble, there will be another. ”

“ He's staying at the Government Medical Center in Washington." She smiled. "That's a long way for a little boy...."
"Thank you," Ron said curtly, and walked off.
His mind was racing, tripping over his thoughts. A year ago! But that was impossible! It seemed only days since he had returned from Andromeda, after a five-year absence. One of his first visits had been to Dr. Minton's office—not just to renew an old friendship, but to allow the physician to examine him thoroughly for traces of the varied and deadly diseases that man was subject to on alien worlds. ”

“ Ron said weakly.
"We get a lot of kicks," the boy said eagerly. "You'll see. We have dogfights with the other gangs. With copters. We only got one, that ain't so much. But we're figurin' on gettin' some PF's next year, if we can collect enough dough in the treasury...."
"That'll be great," Ron said. Then he dropped his hand on the other's arm. "Listen—is there any chance of takin' a trip? In the copter?"
"Yeah, sure," the boy said warily. "Only you gotta ask for it in advance. I mean, it's Rocket property, and you gotta sign for it. And even then, if Shock wants to use it—well...." ”

“ Ron stared back wordlessly.
"You sick or something?" the boy said, edging into the room.
"No." His own voice, strange and reedy, frightened him. "No, I'm all right."
"Andy!" A tall man with a frowning face appeared behind the boy. "Come on, fella. Let's not waste any time." He looked at Ron. "You the new chap?"
"Yes."
"Feel well enough for some breakfast?"
"I guess so."
"Fine. Then get some clothes on and come along."
"Hoy," the freckle-faced boy said curiously. "You play airball?"
"That's enough of that." The man paddled the boy's rump. "Get along, Andy. ”

“ Then the Ron-body turned and was about to leave.
"Stay awhile," Ron said.
He stood up, revealing the weapon, holding it in both of his small hands for firm control of the trigger.
"Well," his voice said.
"Yes, well," Ron answered. "Very well, thanks. Only I won't speak for you, Scholar. Because I don't think you're well at all. I think you're out of your mind...."
The Ron-lips curled.
"Naturally. Genius is akin to madness. It's one of the deep-rooted convictions of the human ego. It reflects their suspicion, their distrust of the superintelligent ... I understand you, Mr. ”

“ Minton."
She sat down again, limply. Then she studied his face, and for a moment, Ron thought she was seriously considering his predicament. But then the laugh started again, the same slightly off-key laugh Ron remembered.
"Adrian, you must believe me! I can prove it! Just listen to me for a moment!"
She stopped the laugh and grew serious, her eyes caught by the intensity of his own. "All right," she whispered. "I'll listen...."
"My name is Ronald Carver. I'm thirty years old. I'm a Captain of the Walder Space Transport Company. I have been in the Andromeda system for the past five years. ”

“ The room was a study in decay. Someone had once wallpapered it in an optimistic pink pattern that was now sardonic in the surroundings. The furniture was rudimentary, and there were no working light fixtures. A battery lamp was sitting in the middle of a wooden table, and three youngsters were playing with a ragged deck of cards. ”

“ Larkin released the first airball, and the two teams streamed up after it. Andy gunned the engine and reached the ball first. He sent it scooting thirty yards ahead of him with the blast of the airjet pipe, but a member of the Evens team was there to veer it off to the left. ”