Citizen of the Galaxy by Robert A. Heinlein

“I’d like to prove it isn’t true. But somebody builds their ships, somebody maintains them. Slavers are not engineers; they’re parasites.”

“I still have trouble believing that there is such a thing as slavery.”

He shrugged. “Ten lashes will convince anybody.”

“Thor! You don’t mean they whipped you?”

“I don’t remember clearly. But the scars are on my back.”

She was very quiet on the way home.

Thorby saw Garsch once more, then they headed for the Yukon, in company with the elderly aunt, who had somehow attached herself. Garsch had papers for Thorby to sign and two pieces of information. “The first action has to be at Rudbek, because that was the legal residence of your parents. The other thing is, I did some digging in newspaper files.”

“Yes?”

“Your grandfather did give you a healthy block of stock. It was in stories about the whoop-te-do when you were born. The Bourse Journal listed the shares by serial numbers. So we’ll hit ’em with that, too — on the same day. Don’t want one to tip off the other.”

“You’re the doctor.”

“But I don’t want you in Rudbek until the clerk shouts ‘Oyez!’ Here’s a mail drop you can use to reach me . . . even phone through, if you have to. And right smartly you set up a way for me to reach you.”

Thorby puzzled over that requirement, being hemmed in as he was by bodyguards. “Why don’t you, or somebody — a young man, maybe — phone my cousin with a code message? People are always phoning her and most of them are young men. She’ll tell me and I’ll find a place to phone back.”

“Good idea. He’ll ask if she knows how many shopping days left till Christmas. All right — see you in court.” Garsch grinned. “This is going to be fun. And very, very expensive for you. G’bye.”

Chapter 22

“Have a nice vacation?” Uncle Jack smiled at him. “You’ve led us quite a chase. You shouldn’t do that, boy.”

Thorby wanted to hit him but, although the guards let go his arms when they shoved him into the room, his wrists were tied. Uncle Jack stopped smiling and glanced at Judge Bruder. “Thor, you’ve never appreciated that Judge Bruder and I worked for your father, and for your grandfather. Naturally we know what’s best. But you’ve given us trouble and now we’ll show you how we handle little boys who don’t appreciate decent treatment. We teach them. Ready, Judge?”

Judge Bruder smiled savagely and took the whip from behind him. “Bend him over the desk!”

Thorby woke up gasping. Whew, a bad one! He looked around the small hotel room he was in and tried to remember where he was. For days he had moved daily, sometimes half around the planet. He had become sophisticated in the folkways of this planet, enough not to attract attention, and even had a new ID card, quite as good as a real one. It had not been difficult, once he realized that underworlds were much the same everywhere.

He remembered now — this was America de Sud.

The bed alarm sounded — just midnight, time to leave. He dressed and glanced at his baggage, decided to abandon it He walked down the backstairs, out the back way.

Aunt Lizzie had not liked the Yukon cold but she put up with it. Eventually someone called and reminded Leda that there were few shopping days to Christmas, so they left. At Uranium City Thorby managed to return the call Garsch grinned. “I’ll see you in the district court in-and-for the county of Rudbek, division four, at nine-fifty-nine the morning of January fourth. Now get lost completely.”

So at San Francisco Thorby and Leda had a tiff in the presence of Aunt Lizzie; Leda wanted to go to Nice, Thorby insisted on Australia. Thorby said angrily, “Keep the car! I’ll go by myself.” He flounced out and bought a ticket for Great Sydney.

He pulled a rather old washroom trick, tubed under the Bay, and, convinced that his bodyguard had been evaded, counted the cash Leda had slipped him as privately as they had quarreled publicly. It came to a little under two hundred thousand credits. There was a note saying that she was sorry it wasn’t more but she had not anticipated needing money.

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