THE PROBLEM MAKERS
By ROBERT HOSKINS
Illustrated by MACK
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Magazine August 1963.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
They had only one mission in the Galaxy, with
its infinite problems—make more of 'em!
I
Clouds obscured the three moons as the men slipped into the village.They eased the double-bitted axes out of their belts and felt their waythrough the almost unrelieved blackness until their hands met the softyieldings of the door hangings. Waiting until the whisper of leathergliding over the ground stopped, telling him everyone was in position,Luke Royceton drew in a deep breath, then suddenly screamed:
"Aiieeeee!"
At his banshee signal, the other men took up the cry. Somebody kickedthe banked coals of the cooking fire into life and stuck in a handfulof twisted grass torches, then moved from man to man, handing them out.The men screamed again, touched their torches to the over-hanging ofthe huts, then tore down the hangings and leaped through the doors,torches flaming a path.
The interiors of the huts leaped to life. Forms hurtled by the men andinto the night as the pitch-caulked thatching blazed into an inferno.The rightful inhabitants of the huts crashed into the tall grass of thesurrounding plains, the sounds of their passage quickly dying away asfear lent wing to their rapidly fleeing heels.
The fires quickly burned through the thatching, sending little fingersof flame dancing along the lashed saplings that supported the roofs.Luke took one last look around the interior of his hut and started toleave, when he spotted something wriggling under a pile of skins.
Crossing the room in three strides, he tore away the coverings andgrabbed the native child by the scruff of its neck. He wheeled on oneheel and retraced his passage. He got out of the door just as thesaplings gave up the ghost and the fiery mass crashed to the ground.
Luke whistled and wiped sweat from his brow. The bronze head of the axecaught and reflected the fires from its myriad beaten facets. Using thehead, he beat out several sparks that had landed on his clothes, thenturned his attention to the child who still dangled from his other hand.
The child's eyes were rolled nearly into his head with his fright. Lukegrinned, baring his teeth. He brought the child up until their noseswere less than an inch apart. The fetid smell of the child's breathmade him choke. Yelping, the child twisted free and ran after itsalready-departed parents.
Luke laughed and turned his attention to his team.
The men were all out now, watching the huts crack under the intenseheat within. One shuddered, then collapsed inward, sending up chokingclouds of dust as it smothered the flames. After a moment, Lukewhistled. Half of the men melted into the grass and followed thenatives, while the others gathered around him, squatting and restingtheir axes on the ground. Luke waited until the others returned toreport no further sign of the villagers, then he squatted himself, andaccepted a canteen from someone. He drank his fill, gasped, wiped theback of his hand across his mouth and handed the canteen back.
"It's hot," he said, conversationally.
"It'll be hotter before we're done," said one of the team. They wereall dressed in rough-cured skins and leather moccasins. The axes werethe only tool they carried. Faces thick with war pain