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       Harry Harrison

      The Collected Works of Harry Harrison (Illustrated Edition)

      Deathworld, The Stainless Steel Rat, Planet of the Damned, The Misplaced Battleship

       Illustrator: Frank Kramer, John Schoenherr, H. R. Van Dongen, Kelly Freas, Brey, Summers

      e-artnow, 2020

       Contact: [email protected]

      ISBN 4064066058678

      Table of Contents

       Deathworld

       The Stainless Steel Rat

       Planet of the Damned

       The Repairman

       The Misplaced Battleship

       The Ethical Engineer

       Toy Shop

       Arm of the Law

       The Velvet Glove

       The K-Factor

       Navy Day

      DEATHWORLD

       Table of Contents

       I

       II

       III

       IV

       V

       VI

       VII

       VIII

       IX

       X

       XI

       XII

       XIII

       XIV

       XV

       XVI

       XVII

       XVIII

       XIX

       XX

       XXI

       XXII

       XXIII

       XXIV

       XXV

       XXVI

       XXVII

       XXVIII

      I

       Table of Contents

      Jason din Alt sprawled in soft luxury on the couch, a large frosty stein held limply in one hand. His other hand rested casually on a pillow. The gun behind the pillow was within easy reach of his fingers. In his line of work he never took chances.

      It was all highly suspicious. Jason didn't know a soul on this planet. Yet the card sent by service tube from the hotel desk had read: Kerk Pyrrus would like to see Jason dinAlt. Blunt and to the point. He signaled the desk to send the man up, then lowered his fingers a bit until they brushed the gun butt. The door slid open and his visitor stepped through.

      A retired wrestler. That was Jason's first thought. Kerk Pyrrus was a gray-haired rock of a man. His body seemingly chiseled out of flat slabs of muscle. Then Jason saw the gun strapped to the inside of the other man's forearm, and he let his fingers drop casually behind the pillow.

      "I'd appreciate it," Jason said, "if you'd take off your gun while you're in here." The other man stopped and scowled down at the gun as if he was seeing it for the first time.

      "No, I never take it off." He seemed mildly annoyed by the suggestion.

      Jason had his fingers on his own gun when he said, "I'm afraid I'll have to insist. I always feel a little uncomfortable around people who wear guns." He kept talking to distract attention while he pulled out his gun. Fast and smooth.

      He could have been moving in slow motion for all the difference it made. Kerk Pyrrus stood rock still while the gun came out, while it swung in his direction. Not until the very last instant did he act. When he did, the motion wasn't visible. First his gun was in the arm holster — then it was aimed between Jason's eyes. It was an ugly, heavy weapon with a pitted front orifice that showed plenty of use.

      And Jason knew if he swung his own weapon up a fraction of an inch more he would be dead. He dropped his arm carefully and Kerk flipped his own gun back in the holster with the same ease he had drawn it.

      "Now," the stranger said, "if we're through playing, let's get down to business. I have a proposition for you."

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