A Tourist Named Death

Dan Redman walked swiftly and quietly down the broad hallway toward a door lettered:

A SECTION

J. KIELGAARD

DIRECTOR

As Dan opened the door, his trained glance caught the brief reflection of a strange, strong-featured face, and a lithe, powerful, and unfamiliar physique. Dan accepted this unfamiliar reflection of himself as an actor accepts makeup. What puzzled him was the peculiar silent smoothness with which his hand turned the knob, while his shoulder braced firmly and easily against the opening door. He stepped into the room in one sudden quiet motion.

The receptionist inside gave a visible start.

What kind of a job, Dan asked himself, did Kielgaard have for him this time?

The receptionist recovered her poise, to usher Dan into the inner office.

Kielgaard—big, stocky, and expensively dressed—glanced up from a sheaf of glossy photographs. He said bluntly, "Sit down. We've got a mess to straighten out."

"What's wrong?"

"A few years back, Galactic Enterprises discovered a totally undeveloped planet with no inhabitants. They claimed development rights and got to work to find an economical route to the planet, which is called Triax."

Kielgaard snapped a switch on the edge of his desk and the room lights dimmed out. Three stellar maps seemed to hang in space in front of Dan, one map directly above the other.

Kielgaard's voice said, "Galactic found a route to Triax that promised to be very economical. Watch."