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Few would deny that having the right tool for the job is the ideal situation. But still, it is possible to be too dependent on tools, particularly in an emergency . . . 


Clothes Make the Man

Ron Goulart


Lynn Pettiford was enjoying the surrey ride from the spaceport. It was the first time she had seen a horse. The afternoon sun, shining through softly rustling leaves, made fluttering patterns on the dirt road. Off in the yellow fields bright birds sang and insects hummed. Lynn stretched her legs out and lit a cigarette.

The stooped old driver turned his head and touched the visor of his faded black cap. “Young ladies aren’t allowed to smoke out of doors in Scattergood Territory, miss,” he said, smiling apologetically.

“Sorry,” Lynn said, dropping the cigarette to the surrey floor and grinding it out with her foot. She inhaled deeply and leaned back.

A flock of blackbirds rose out of the field to the left and swirled up into the sky. Lynn watched them until the surrey top cut off her view. Then she shifted a little on her seat and closed her eyes.

Far in the distance a cowbell rang slowly and stopped, a wooden fence creaked.

“Trouble,” said the old driver, reining up. “Looks like trouble, miss.”

Lynn sat up, blinking.

“What?”

The old man pointed to a cloud of dust growing on the road ahead. “Might just be highwaymen.”

“Oh,” said Lynn, sliding her purse behind her and kicking her tan suitcase into the shadows at her feet.

The driver pulled at the peak of his cap and squinted. “Three masked men on horseback heading this way.”

Lynn could see them now, too. Their clothes were black, their heads covered with scarlet hoods. “My fiancé’s with Detective Central here in Scattergood,” she said. “I don’t suppose that would discourage them.”

“Might just make them nastier. You never can tell with highwaymen.” The old man stiffened as the horsemen came closer. “Wait now. What’s that they’re carrying?”

Lynn frowned. “Looks like canvas sacks.”

The driver sighed. “We’re safe then. Those are bank robbers, not highwaymen. It’s hard to tell them apart sometimes.”

Lynn unclenched her hands. “They might still be dangerous.”

The three robbers turned off the road about fifteen yards ahead of the surrey and galloped across a field. In a clutter of low trees there was a dark stone cottage.

“Hideout,” said the driver, nodding at the cottage.

“Shouldn’t we be getting on?”


The driver slapped his freckled hands together a few times and jumped down to the road. He shaded his eyes and looked up into the clear sky. “Yessir, yessir.” He grabbed off his cap and waved it in jerky circles, hopping as he did.

“What is it now?” Lynn asked, wondering if the excitement of seeing the bandits up close had produced some kind of nervous attack in the old man.

“DC’s coming. There’s their flyer.”

Lynn leaned out. Overhead a sparkling rectangle was descending. “Detective Central?”

“Of course. They’re the only ones can fly in Scattergood. They’re going to get those badmen.”

“Won’t we be in the way?”

The driver flattened his cap back on. “Foolish to try a daylight robbery anyhow. DC always gets them.” He turned to Lynn. “We have a saying around here, miss. Crime never pays. Watch.” He chuckled and spun to watch the silver flyer land silently in the grass across the road.

The flyer had hardly stopped quivering when its hatch popped open, and two men shot out. They seemed to be tall, well-developed men, with good tans. The first man, holding what looked like a blaster pistol, ran in great strides toward the bandits’ cottage. He sparkled and glittered in the sun. His scarlet uniform was trimmed in gold and silver and his boots reflected the yellow grass as he ran. His silver helmet threw a glare suddenly into Lynn’s eyes and she looked away. But she said, with surprise, “Alec.”

When she had rubbed her eyes and looked again the first DC patrolman was sailing through the air, his hands at his sides. One of the bandits threw a spear out of a small window. The spear hit the man who resembled Lynn’s fiancé in the left shoulder and bounced off. The DC man’s head hit the stone wall at this point and Lynn screamed, “Alec, you’ll dislocate something!”

He went through the cottage wall, sending stone and mortar off in jagged arcs. The thatched roof came down as though it had been sucked from within.

The second DC man was standing halfway to the collapsing hideout, a black suitcase in his hand. A blaster spun slowly in his other hand.

The man who looked like Alec Harker rose out of the ruins, carrying two unconscious robbers by their collars. He dropped them near his partner and dived back into the rubble. This time he came out with the loot and the third bandit, who was trying to pull his tattered scarlet hood back on.

Lynn stood up, then swung out of the surrey and ran across the dusty road. She raised one gloved hand and called, “Alec. Is that you?”

The patrolman was stuffing bandits into the DC flyer. He looked up, a wide smile growing on his tanned face. “Take over here, Gil.” Then he walked toward the girl.


Lynn stepped into the grass, wondering what she’d say if this wasn’t Alec. She knew he was on duty someplace and hadn’t been able to meet her. Still, she wasn’t sure. “Alec?” The yellow grass was rough against her ankles.

“Lynn,” said Alec, pulling off his silver helmet. “What a great damned surprise.”

He didn’t sound like Alec, his voice was deeper. But he seemed to be Alec. “Hello,” Lynn said. “Do you take risks like this often?”

“No risk.” He caught her in his arms, laughing. He kissed her.

Lynn relaxed a moment, then pulled back. “Glad to see me?” She frowned, studying his face. “My, that’s some tan.”

Alec grinned and let her go. He ran a forefinger down his cheek, leaving a light line. “Part of it’s makeup. Look, I’ve got to turn these crooks in, but I’m off at six. I’ll pick you up at the Old Scattergood House and take you to dinner around seven.” He took her shoulders. “Six months is a long time.”

Lynn made a white line down his other cheek with her thumb. She nodded and turned toward the surrey.


Alec Harker whistled as he washed up, keeping time with his bare foot on the tile floor. After he’d passed through the drying chamber, he got his clothes out of his closet. He noticed a spot of tarnish on his uniform epaulet and rubbed at it with his moistened finger. In a way it was too bad you could only wear your uniform on duty. Alec pulled on his gray trousers and sealed the fly seam. Striped blazers were in style in Scattergood now and Alec had two conservative ones. He put on the green blazer and snapped on a bow tie. He walked to the wall mirror and studied himself, smoothing out his crewcut. He always looked shorter in street clothes.

Gil Miley, Alec’s partner in Detective Central, came out of the dry room. “That’s Lynn, huh?”

“Yeah,” said Alec, straddling a straight metal chair.

“Pretty. Nice legs. I prefer blondes, though.”

“Lynn’s a blonde. Well, auburn I guess is the color.”

“I mean blonde like—oh, like those stag show dancers we brought in last month.”

“Dyed,” said Alec.

Miley shrugged and put on a pair of work denims. “Tough being separated from her for so long.”

“Sure was. I told you Lynn was a stewardess for Transpace, didn’t I? Well, when the chance came up for a long haul, she took it. Double pay. That was about the time Uncle Jake said he could get me on here if I wanted to earn some money before I went back to Mars Grad for my masters.”

Miley took a yellow blazer out of his closet. “So now you’ve got a pile and’ll settle down by a quiet canal?”

“I guess. I sort of like it on Metro though. I mean, here in Scattergood.”

“Good Lord,” said Miley. “I’d rather get a hardship post on Pluto.”

“I enjoy the work is the thing.” Alec looked up at the wall clock. “Going toward the Old Scattergood House?”

“No. I got a tip there’s a bordello going in the Quaker Quarter. With a live piano player.”

“Going to raid it?”

“Eventually.”

Alec smiled and went out. The soda fountain next to Detective Central headquarters was full of laughing couples. Old Pop Arnold waved at Alec as he passed.

Alec stopped at the corner to let an ice cream truck clatter by. The scarlet plumes of the horses flickered brightly. Too bad you had to pass through the fringes of the Cropper Quarter to get to the Old Scattergood House. Alec didn’t like to go through there out of uniform and with none of his equipment. Off duty you could only carry one small blaster in a shoulder holster.

The swinging doors of the Green Lama, a known hangout of Zen Buddhists, flapped wide and three bearded men tumbled out into the street. One of them swung a buggy whip in his hand. The man on the bottom of the pile crawled to the curb and broke his beer bottle into a jagged weapon.

Alec, a block away from the brawl, slowed his pace slightly. Trouble would delay him. And he always felt a lack of authority in plain clothes. He stopped and looked in the window of a bicycle repair shop, trying not to hear the crack of the whip.

Two more bearded men joined the fight, waving stools and shouting.

Alec took a deep breath. Maybe he would have to stop this. But then out of the twilight came a DC flyer. And two patrolmen flew into the fight.

Smiling, Alec crossed the street and took a shortcut to the hotel. It would be good to be with Lynn again. Even though he would have to tell her he wanted to stay on with Detective Central. Scattergood wasn’t a bad place to settle.


Coming down the wooden-railed stairs into the lobby of the Old Scattergood, Lynn Pettiford smiled. She recognized Alec at once this time. His quiet grin, the way he twisted his head to one side as if his collar were too tight. He always did that when waiting in a public place.

She squeezed the hand he held out to help her down the last step. “You look much more yourself now.”

Alec nodded. “Lynn, I’ve got a hansom cab out front. Thought we’d go out to the Weary Traveler’s Haven Inn on the outskirts of town.”

“That would be appropriate.”

The night was warm and clear, still darkening. The long ride to the inn was smooth and soothing. Six months was a long time, and they didn’t talk much on the way out, except early in the journey when Alec pointed out DC headquarters and Lynn made an admiring remark.

In the shadowy hansom Alec was much more like the Alec Lynn had fallen in love with in her senior year at Mars Union University. Lynn felt that sighing was something you got out of your system by your second term in your sorority. Still, she allowed herself to sigh twice.


The inn was run by a round bald man known as Pop Bachtold. He greeted them warmly and led them to a secluded, candle lit table near one of the dining room’s stained-glass windows. Something was singing beneath the window and Lynn assumed it was a nightingale, although she had never heard one.

“I love to see young people eat soup,” said Pop Bachtold, clasping his hands over his aproned stomach and smiling as they began the first course. He chuckled and tiptoed away from them.

Lynn took three courses to tell Alec about the long haul with Transpace. The touch down ports, the blue man who’d made a pass at her during a fireworks display in a Plutonian bazaar. Then over her apple pie she said, “And how’s Detective Central? I suppose you’ll be glad to get back to Mars. Not that this hasn’t been the practical thing to do.” She smiled. “I’m proud of us, being able to do the practical things the universe requires. Now we have a nest egg and can settle down on Mars.”

Alec coughed and the candle went out. “Excuse me.” He got out the lighter Lynn had given him for graduation and re-lit the fat blue candle. “Funny thing, Lynn.”

“What?” She set down her fork.

“Well, when I first got out here, I expected to dislike police work. Even though 97% of the testing machines at VocVac said I had an aptitude. But it turns out I enjoy my job. I actually do.” He met her eyes briefly.

“Enjoy it? Oh. And I’ve been feeling sorry for you. You actually like doing things like that business this afternoon?”

He grinned. “Yes. I do. And we’ll get a bonus, besides helping the cause of justice.”

“By the way,” Lynn said, searching in her purse for cigarettes. “How did you do that this afternoon? I meant to ask. Fly and bust through a stone wall.”

“Well, Lynn. The set-up here in Scattergood is different than some.” He had his napkin wrapped around his fist now and he started untwisting it. “The settlers in this part of Metro went in for a simple sort of life. A semirural, small town life. Of course, some of the mineral strikes later on let in a rougher element. But through the years Detective Central has been quite successful in keeping Scattergood a simple, fairly honest territory.” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t smoke here. It’s considered improper. The way DC does it is by not allowing development beyond a certain point. That follows the principles of the founding fathers and makes law enforcing a little easier. See, we’re the only ones with flying machines or any kind of advanced weapon. What you saw today is a pretty good example of how we work. A lot of it is showmanship. Gil, that’s my partner—Gil Miley, a great guy—had a disassembler in that back box and a stun beam under his hat. That’s what got the house and dazed the robbers. I had a flying belt on. It’s, you know, just applied science. But we make it look like DC guys are pretty much invincible. Fear is the strongest weapon a police force can have. It keeps all but the rowdiest element in line.”

“Why did you have makeup on?” Lynn dropped her cigarette absently back into her purse.

“Look, Lynn, most of it is makeup of one sort or another. Trappings, stage effects. The people are sort of simple here. They’ve been kept that way. They simply go in for a little color. DC likes us to have an outdoorsy look. I never did tan well. You remember that week on the Left Bank.”

“Seems like a silly way to run a police force.”

“Police work varies from territory to territory, from planet to planet. Detective Central is adaptable. Anyway, the Universe Combine sets DC policy.” Alec grinned. “Anyhow, I enjoy the work here. And I’d like to stay on.”

“I thought we wanted to settle on Mars. Have our children grow up there. Now you say you want to run around out here and act like some school boy hero.”

Alec rolled his napkin into a ball along the table edge. “But in these last few months I really think I’ve become a more mature person, Lynn. I don’t want to give that up.”

“Maturity is something you can take with you.”

“I’m not sure. It’s more a way I feel on duty, Lynn. I’m afraid if I quit DC now, I’ll just go back to being the kind of person I was.”

“You don’t want that?”

“How about some steaming coffee, ground fresh from Earth-grown beans?” asked Pop Bachtold, smiling down at them.

“Fine,” said Alec.

Pop chuckled and withdrew, humming to himself.

“You just want to stay here and fly through the air and poke your head through stone walls. It’s childish.”

“No, Lynn. I feel more confident, more at ease with DC. I’m reluctant to lose that.” He looked across at her. “I feel—well—safe in a way.”

“My God, didn’t you feel safe in college? That is sure as hell a safe place.”

“They don’t like to hear girls use harsh language in public out here, Lynn,” Alec said, lowering his voice. “Sure, I felt secure in college. But with DC I have a little more authority, prestige. I know I was Senior Class Treasurer, but it’s not quite the same.”

After Pop Bachtold had left the coffee Lynn said, “I don’t think I want my coffee. May we go back now?”

Alec stopped his cup halfway to his mouth. “I thought you claimed to understand me?”

“I do,” she said, gathering up her purse and gloves and standing. She walked carefully across the dining room, hoping Alec would follow her. He did.


Applying his makeup Alec said, “It’s okay now, Gil. Patched up.”

Gil Miley pulled on a boot, frowning at the scuffed toe. “So what are you going to do?”

“Well, Lynn’s going to try to get based here and we’ll both keep on working for possibly another year.”

Miley rubbed saliva on his boot toe. “You like this routine that much?”

“Sure.” Alec buttoned his blouse and squinted out the window. “Kind of overcast. Think I’ll wear my cape.”

“I’m only staying in because you can retire at forty. Then I think I’ll settle on one of those bordello satellites.”

“This is my first real job, of course, but I like it.” Alec brushed the scarlet lining of his cape and then flapped it twice in the air.

Miley strapped on his helmet and flipped his cigarette into the floor dispozer. “Well, let’s go.”

“I’ve got a new routine worked out for breaking up unlawful rallies, Gil,” Alec said, fastening his cape. “Indoor ones. See, you’d come in through the wall and then I’d follow through the ceiling. Or if we’re lucky the building might have a skylight. All that shattering glass makes a nice effect.”

“Most secret meetings are held in basements,” said Miley. He grinned briefly and went out the door to the landing lot.


Old Pop Donner at the livery stable gave Alec and Lynn the best horse and buggy he had. It was, he said, his gesture to young love.

Alec concentrated on controlling the horse until they were out of town and on the straight road that led to Old Lovers’ Point. Nobody went there much anymore, but it would be a fine spot for a picnic. “I’m glad things are settled,” Alec said after a while.

Lynn twisted her hand over the handle of the basket on the seat between them. “If you think staying with Detective Central another year is such a good thing, well, I guess I can’t object. Oh, and I stopped at the Transpace office this morning.”

“And?”

“There’s a pretty good chance I’ll be able to work out of here. Or at least out of Metro.”

“Great. After the picnic we can drive by the new development and look around at cottages.” He put his hand over Lynn’s. “Maybe we could lease one for a year.” He slid his hand under hers and took the handle of the picnic basket. He lifted the basket into the back of the buggy and drew Lynn over nearer to him. “Sound okay?”

“Fine.” Lynn rested her head on his shoulder, her auburn hair fluttering in the warm breeze. “Much more comfortable without epaulets.”

Old Lovers’ Point was deserted and the yellow grass high. Alec tethered the horse and he and Lynn wandered downhill. “I’ve never been out here before,” Alec said.

“I’m glad,” Lynn said. A sign hung askew on a dead tree. Lynn stopped in front of it and straightened it with her hand. “Old Lovers’ Point,” she read. “This is the place all right.” Paint flakes stuck to her finger as she let go and the sign swung back to its old position.

“People used to come out here often. Place has a big reputation. But I guess things go out of style, even in a controlled society. Gil, that’s my partner, comes out here now and then.”

Hand in hand they moved down a gradual slope. Lynn spotted another faded sign. “Old Lovers’ Bridge. Let’s find that.”

“I think that’s the wood bridge over Old Lovers’ Canyon. Not much of a canyon. Only a half mile or so deep.”


They climbed over a rise and then were in front of an ancient wooden bridge about a thousand feet long. Beyond the bridge was a cool, shadowy forest. “Let’s eat lunch over there,” Lynn said. “I bet we can find a clearing and maybe a pool.”

“Lunch,” said Alec. “Left it in the buggy. Wait now and I’ll get it.” He touched Lynn’s cheek with his fingertips and ran back to the buggy.

He had the basket in his hand when he heard the splintering and Lynn’s cry. “My Lord,” he said, dropping the basket.

When he got near the edge of the small canyon there was no Lynn. No bridge. He knelt at the rim and stared over.

Lynn was hanging a hundred feet down, her arms locked around a bridge cable that was still secured. “Pull me up, Alec,” she shouted. “Pull.”

Alec tried to stand and suddenly his legs went numb. His hands turned cold and wet and he almost pitched forward. Finally, he found his voice. “I can’t like this,” he yelled down. “Hold on till I get my stuff.”

By the time he got into his uniform and back out to the edge of the canyon Lynn was gone.


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