87th Century Earth, entombed in a relentless,
mile-thick coat of ice—its buried cities groaning
in slow-congealing despair—still dreaded far more a
bestial horror, known only as The Bear. For that monster
with a human brain was threatening to steal the world!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Winter 1947.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The searchlights playing across the building's dark windows, the policecordon holding back the crowd—the telenews cameras ate it up.
The telenewsmen never seemed to care whether they got in the way of astray shot or not. They had the video cameras set up right out in themiddle of the icy street. The announcer was talking rapidly into hisportable mike.
"They've got the building surrounded now, folks! For those who fadedin late, this is your teletabloid reporter bringing you an on-the-spotpicture...."
The picture was being reproduced on television screens throughoutthe ice-bound world, in London, Moscow, Singapore, New York—in NewYork's buried city in particular. It was happening there. New Yorkerscrowded around their screens in the bright plastic salons deep in thevita-lamped society levels, in the tidy middle-class apartments severalmiles nearer the surface, even in a dingy hovel just under the earth'sfrozen crust, a few blocks from where the scene was being enacted, asallow-faced tenement family was gathered around an ancient EightiethCentury television set.
"It's one of The Bear's gang, folks! Although the rest of the gang gotaway after this morning's Radium Bank stick-up, the police wounded oneof them. They've trailed him to this vacant building high in the upperlevels and—Wait! What's this! A plainclothes man just went in thebuilding! He went in there alone...."
... It was dark inside.
Johnny Steel flashed his light on the stairs. There was the same redtrail that had brought them here—blood, frozen as it fell. He cutthe light off again instantly, pausing till his eyes got used to thedarkness again. The heavy pistol was cold in his hand.
Perhaps he was crazy, coming in here alone! The Homicide Squad hadcertainly thought so when he'd ordered them to wait outside.
The stairs were a vague outline slanting up into the desertedbuilding's gloom. At the top, a corridor cut off to the right.
"Floyd ..." Steel called softly. He'd told no one that he knew the manthey were hunting down. "Floyd, this is Johnny Steel. I'm coming upalone...."
His voice echoed through the chill corridor above. There was no answer.
He moved slowly up the stairs. He was a big man, tall and heavy withmost of the weight in his arms and shoulders. Near the corner at thetop, he paused, listening in the darkness.
"Afraid to come up, Johnny?"
Steel jumped. He flattened against the wall. The hoarse voice wasn'tthree feet from his ear. His finger took up the slack in his pistol'strigger.
"Your boys got in some pretty good target practice on me thisafternoon, didn't they, Johnny?" The voice came from just around thecorner. Steel felt the sweat trickling down his neck despite the cold."You wouldn't tell 'em to take it easy, huh—that I was an old chum ofyours?"
Steel finally found his voice. "Floyd, you killed two guards in thatRadium Bank. I came up here to try to reason with you—because you usedto be my best friend. Tell me who The Bear is—and I'll do my best tohelp you at the trial."
A husky laugh echoed in the dark corridor. "You know I'm no squealer,Johnny." But now there was