The Venus Belt Read Online Free

twinkling of highly competent fingers, compliant to the six-shot rule (despite its basic stupidity—Webley mag a zines contain two hundred inch-long steel needles), and raked each target twice again. Time: 5.47 seconds, faster than I’d ever seen her; potential motherhood wasn’t slowing her down a bit. Score: the Telecom read fifty-six, four points shy of perfect.
    “ Oh, shit! ” observed my refined, genteel wife. “Win, you’re home!” To negate any possible connection between this pair of statements, she came running before I could caution her not to, and threw her arms around me. I felt her weapon bobble against my shoulder blades where it dangled from her fingers. Forsyth stared discreetly into the distance, a old-fashioned monkey if ever there was one.
    We came up for air, and I patted her well-rounded five-month tu m my. “I trust you’re skipping the obstacle course today?”
    “Who’s the Healer around here? Of course I’m skipping obstacles, silly, why do you think we’re over here on the baby course?” Before I could get in the obvious rejoinder, she added, “Now say hello to the Captain, and take your shot. We’ll average scores and spot you ten points.”
    “Better make it twenty, I’ve had a hard couple of days. How y’doing, Cap?” I shook hands with the pistol-champ emeritus of Greater Laporte, gin-rummy shark par excellence, and one of my oldest, closest friends. He’s also a fully qualified chimpanzee.
    “All right, I guess.” He didn’t really speak: chimpanzees can’t. Instead he used a wristwatch-size synthesizer that picked up subliminal muscular movements and translated them into speech. “Nobody told me retirement was such bloody hard work! Be glad to get rid of this arthritis, though. Sorry I left it so long. Win, as soon as I’m through rejuvenating, I’m thinking about going back into business on my own. Ceres, maybe Pa l las—need a partner, maybe.”
    “That does it. We’re going to have to emigrate if we ever want to see our friends again. How about it, sweetheart, once the baby comes?”
    “Why wait? Take your shot, and we’ll do it right now!”
    “In front of the Captain, here? It’s only been two days, honey, and he embarrasses so easily.” I waggled my cigar and did obscene things with my eyebrows.
    “Oh shut up and take your shot!”
    I like a girl who turns that color. I clamped the cigar firmly in my teeth, stepped up and waited through the instructions, back to the ta r gets, hands above my shoulders— Boop! —and turned, feet planted wide, elbows locked, left arm pulling back. The front sight rose to the 5-ring.
    Blam, Blam! Blam, Blam! Blam, Blam! I thumbed the cylinder open, wor k ing the ejector-rod with my left palm. My right hand found a loader at my belt and slammed the fresh rounds home. I gripped again and snapped the weapon closed. Blam, Blam! Blam, Blam! Blam, Blam! Score: a perfect sixty. Time...
    Eight and a half seconds ? Well, you can’t have everything.
    I reloaded once again, scrounging up my precious hand-imported brass, and stepped to the line to join my companions, who still had their hands over their ears.
    “You ever gonna trade that plague-eaten noise-maker off?” Forsyth gave me the sourest of looks. “If muzzle-blast was stopping-power, son, you’d be the deadliest gunman in North America!” He stepped forward, limbering up his well-worn .476 Savage, and turned toward us, disregarding the instru c tions as he waited for the tone. “Bloody firecracker!”
    “He never listens on that subject, Cap, I’ve been trying for years to— Oops! The baby just moved—probably covering her ears, too!”
    I put a gentle arm around my mate. “Hush, the Captain’s trying to co n centrate.”
    “I’ll concentrate better when my ears stop ringing! Apologize to your daughter, Win, otherwise she may not want to come into the—”
    Boop! Forsyth spun around and drew his autopistol, ripping through six rounds so fast I could