Mack Reynolds

“ He turned and faced me. "I am willing to wager a thousand credits that you can't capture a zloor."
"How big are they?"
"About the size of a rabbit."
I glowered at him. "They very fast, or very poisonous, or what?"
He shrugged. "They can't run quite as fast as a common Terran hare, and I understand they're quite gentle."
"Then why haven't they been captured?"
"Among other things, Napoleon," he rolled my name over his tongue as though he got a big laugh from it, "there have been only a few hundred persons in all that have gone to Mars. ”

“ What makes it nice for him is that he's on a cost plus basis. If he never succeeds, it'll still be money in his pocket; if he does, he gets a whopping big bonus. Every time he sends another man up here to take a crack at getting a zloor, he makes money. No doubt the way he told you the story, you'd think you were the only one trying."
I snorted, "He told me I'd been picked because I was the smallest pro hunter in the game."
Mike Holiday grinned. "He picked me because I was so big.—I could stand the rigors of life on Mars, he said." ”

“ Nap, that animal can eat anything organic and thrive on it. Evidently, no poison that nature has ever produced affects it. At least, none of us have been able to dream one up."
"How about narcotics, something to dope it?"
He shook his head. "To begin with, some of these Martian plants produce narcotic effects that make the products of our poppy look like food for babes; but the zloor takes them in its stride. It's really got a cast iron stomach. We've never been able to locate anything it won't eat and enjoy eating."
I didn't say anything for a long time. Then, "A Bazook-rifle would kill one." ”

“ On thorough reading, the contract didn't seem too bad. All my expenses to and from Mars were paid by Marks. I also got five credits a month in the way of salary—no fortune, but average pay for a Terran worker. If I caught a zloor and brought it back alive, I got a five hundred credit bonus; if I brought two back alive, a seven hundred credit bonus. If I brought a dead one back, I got a three hundred bonus. Westley Marks didn't seem to be interested in getting more than one dead one since there wasn't any provision for a larger number. ”

“ Every guy that Westley Marks sends up here asks the same questions. Sure you could lift it with a derrick if the derrick was big enough. Do you have any idea of what it'd cost to bring a derrick of that size to Mars?
"And that's not the only thing, either. These zloors are gentle as lambs, but they hate to be confined against their will. That derrick'd have to have some awfully strong equipment to keep the zloor from breaking loose and ambling off. There's other angles there, too. Suppose your derrick did lift him into the shuttle. ”

“ I told him. "There was no other way of getting a zloor on board an earth bound rocket, so I made pets of a couple of them. They love peach pits—regular delicacy for them." I added reflectively. "You'd be surprised how well trained I've got Frankie and Johnny; I'll hate to give them up."
I tapped the ash of the cigar off on his heavy carpet and said, "However, business is business. Let's see, by our contract you owe me five credits for each month I've been gone, plus a seven hundred credit bonus for bringing back two live zloors, then there's that thousand credit wager we made." ”

“ When you got the shuttle up to the space station, how'd you move the zloor from the shuttle to the station and then from the station to the rocket for Terra?"
He go up from the bed and went over to a little table to return with a bottle and a couple of glasses. He poured two drinks and handed me one. "Here," he said, "you look like you could use a quick one. Have a hair of a dog that's going to bite kert out of you before you ever leave Mars."
I grated, "I could stand the rest of it, but what burns me up is that makron Westley Marks. Here he is getting rich on the project. ”

“ I told him, "you're asking for a bust yourself. Why don't you run along? I'm busy."
He ignored me, found a chair that had nothing but a few magazines on it, tossed them to the floor and sat down. "Your name was brought up because you're the smallest professional hunter on Earth. It'd save a few thousand credits in getting you to Mars and back."
That stopped me. "What in kert are you talking about?" I growled.
"The government wants a specimen, at least one, of a zloor."
"A what?"
"A zloor," he repeated. "A small Martian animal."
I scowled at him. "And just why does the government want a zloor?" ”

“ The trouble was that when the zloor felt like moving he walked right through the side of the steel box like you or I'd walk through a wall of tissue paper."
"How about poisoning one?" I rapped. "You could get a dead one back a lot easier than—"
"They don't poison," he said, "and from what we can figure they're practically immortal. We have never found a dead one." ”

“ Mike was grinning down at me. "You'll get used to woji," he said.
"I should live so long," I moaned. Then I sat up suddenly in the bed. "You guys wouldn't tell me anything last night," I said. He was still grinning. "That's part of the initiation into the Zloor Club. What'd'ya want to know, Nap?"
I swung my feet over the side of the bed and came to a sitting position. I groaned and shook my head in an attempt to clear it.
"What are half the professional hunters I know doing on Mars?" ”

“ At first I was careful in my approach, slipping from cover to cover; but as I got closer it became evident that the zloor wasn't particularly timid and that as far as it was concerned I could come as near as I wanted.
I stood off about five feet and watched it for a long time. Once it looked up and over at me, but then went back to the tree in which it was making a respectable hole.
I tried once again with the rifle, aiming carefully right behind its ear. The gun snapped, and the bullet thudded—but the zloor ignored it.
"Holy Wodo," I snorted. "He's really bulletproof." ”

“ Besides what he makes from the government, he's bet every one of us so much that we'll all be out our life savings when we go back."
"Brother Nap, you have said it," Mike Holiday said feelingly. He tilted the glass to his lips and drank deeply. I was right behind him.
It was more than two years later when I walked into the office of Westley Marks. I noted with pleasure that he still looked as aristocratic as ever. ”

“ I said, "Was there something I could do for you?"
"I wanted to hire you for a rather lengthy period," he told me.
"I'm all booked up for the next six months."
"This is something rather special."
"It always is when somebody wants you to cancel a job with a regular client." ”

“ Few of them, to my knowledge, have been interested in the life forms there. The expense of freight in space is much too high for Terran zoos to transport Martian life forms—particularly alive—considering the cost of duplicating in the space craft the living conditions necessary to—"
"All right," I snapped, "just a minute." I picked up the viso-phone and dialed rapidly. In seconds, Jerry Mason's friendly pan lit up the screen.
"Listen, Jerry," I said, "Have you ever heard of a Martian zloor?" ”