The Status Civilization

"Well, if you ask me, it's a very good object lesson. One mustn't get out of practice." "And," the other man said, "one mustn't underestimate even a peon." He looked at Barrent. "Nice shooting, fellow." "Yes, very nice indeed," the other man said. "It's difficult to fire a handgun accurately while in motion." Barrent got to his feet shakily, still holding the girl's weapon, prepared to fire at the first suspicious movement from the Hadjis. But they weren't moving suspiciously. They seemed to regard the entire incident as closed. "What happens now?" Barrent asked. "Nothing," one of the Hadjis said. "On Landing Day, one kill is all that any man or hunting party is allowed. After that, you're out of the hunt." "It's really a very unimportant holiday," the other man said. "Not like the Games or the Lottery." "All that remains for you to do," the first man said, "is to go to the Registration Office and collect your inheritance." "My what?" "Your inheritance," the Hadji said patiently. "You're entitled to the entire estate of your victim. In Draken's case, I'm sorry to say, it doesn't amount to very much." "He never was a good businessman," the other said sadly. "Still, it'll give you a little something to start life with. And since you've made an authorized kill--even though a highly unusual one--you move upward in status. You become a Free Citizen." People had come back into the streets, and shopkeepers were unlocking their steel shutters. A truck marked BODY DISPOSAL UNIT 5 drove up, and four uniformed men took away Draken's body. The normal life of Tetrahyde had begun again. This, more than any assurances from the Hadjis, told Barrent that the moment for murder was over. He put the girl's weapon in his pocket.