Four-Day Planet

Four-Day Planet, by Henry Beam
Piper

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Title: Four-Day Planet
Author: Henry Beam Piper
Release Date: October 6, 2006 [EBook #19478]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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FOUR-DAY PLANET ***

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Transcriber's Note:
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
copyright on this publication was renewed. The attribution is not a part

of the original book.
Four-Day Planet
by H. Beam Piper

SF ace books A Division of Charter Communications Inc. A
GROSSET & DUNLAP COMPANY 360 Park Avenue South New
York, New York 10010

Copyright © 1961 by H. Beam Piper
Cover art by Michael Whelan
* * * * *
DEDICATION
For Betty and Vall, with loving remembrance
* * * * *

CONTENTS
1. The Ship from Terra
2. Reporter Working
3. Bottom Level
4. Main City Level
5. Meeting Out of Order
6. Elementary, My Dear Kivelson

7. Aboard the Javelin
8. Practice, 50-MM Gun
9. Monster Killing
10. Mayday, Mayday
11. Darkness and Cold
12. Castaways Working
13. The Beacon Light
14. The Rescue
15. Vigilantes
16. Civil War Postponed
17. Tallow-Wax Fire
18. The Treason of Bish Ware
19. Masks Off
20. Finale
* * * * *

Four-Day Planet
1
THE SHIP FROM TERRA
I went through the gateway, towing my equipment in a contragravity
hamper over my head. As usual, I was wondering what it would take,

short of a revolution, to get the city of Port Sandor as clean and tidy
and well lighted as the spaceport area. I knew Dad's editorials and my
sarcastic news stories wouldn't do it. We'd been trying long enough.
The two girls in bikinis in front of me pushed on, still gabbling about
the fight one of them had had with her boy friend, and I closed up
behind the half dozen monster-hunters in long trousers, ankle boots and
short boat-jackets, with big knives on their belts. They must have all
been from the same crew, because they weren't arguing about whose
ship was fastest, had the toughest skipper, and made the most money.
They were talking about the price of tallow-wax, and they seemed to
have picked up a rumor that it was going to be cut another ten centisols
a pound. I eavesdropped shamelessly, but it was the same rumor I'd
picked up, myself, a little earlier.
"Hi, Walt," somebody behind me called out. "Looking for some news
that's fit to print?"
I turned my head. It was a man of about thirty-five with curly brown
hair and a wide grin. Adolf Lautier, the entertainment promoter. He and
Dad each owned a share in the Port Sandor telecast station, and split
their time between his music and drama-films and Dad's newscasts.
"All the news is fit to print, and if it's news the Times prints it," I told
him. "Think you're going to get some good thrillers this time?"
He shrugged. I'd just asked that to make conversation; he never had any
way of knowing what sort of films would come in. The ones the
Peenemünde was bringing should be fairly new, because she was
outbound from Terra. He'd go over what was aboard, and trade one for
one for the old films he'd shown already.
"They tell me there's a real Old-Terran-style Western been showing on
Völund that ought to be coming our way this time," he said. "It was
filmed in South America, with real horses."
That would go over big here. Almost everybody thought horses were as
extinct as dinosaurs. I've seen so-called Westerns with the cowboys

riding Freyan oukry. I mentioned that, and then added:
"They'll think the old cattle towns like Dodge and Abilene were awful
sissy places, though."
"I suppose they were, compared to Port Sandor," Lautier said. "Are you
going aboard to interview the distinguished visitor?"
"Which one?" I asked. "Glenn Murell or Leo Belsher?"
Lautier called Leo Belsher something you won't find in the dictionary
but which nobody needs to look up. The hunters, ahead of us, heard
him and laughed. They couldn't possibly have agreed more. He was
going to continue with the fascinating subject of Mr. Leo Belsher's
ancestry and personal characteristics, and then bit it off short. I
followed his eyes, and saw old Professor Hartzenbosch, the principal of
the school, approaching.
"Ah, here you are, Mr. Lautier," he greeted. "I trust