Hellflower by George O. Smith
This 1953 novel is a decent enough space adventure with some good ideas which are central to the story. Modern readers will likely find the dialog and mode of expression rather dated. Since the story takes place in the future, I am a little surprised that the author did not try harder to use a less contemporary manner of speech, but the fact is that many of the conversations feel as though they belong in a 1940s spy or gangster movie.
Nevertheless, the story about a wronged and exiled spaceship captain (Farradyne) being recruited by a law enforcement agency in order to bring the leaders of a notorious narcotics ring to justice and thereby win back his place in society was sufficiently interesting to keep me reading until the end. The nature of the narcotic involved (the hellflower) is pretty original (although, strangely, it only works on women), and the truth about the power which lies behind the criminals ensures that everyone gets much more than they bargain for.
Hellflower is primarily an action adventure with little depth of introspection or characterization, and is pretty typical of the pulp fiction of the era. As such, in my opinion, it cannot compare with Smith’s 1959 novel The Fourth “R” (AKA The Brain Machine) in quality, as the latter work exhibits a more mature writing style, and is much more thought-provoking and philosophical.
Here are some representative quotations from the book:
“Funny how a guy gets out of his kid-habits,” mused Cahill. “And even funnier how he wants to go and do it all over again but never quite makes it the same.”
“Cahill was always a damned fool,” nodded Niles. “He was a dame-crazy idiot and it served him right. Some men prefer money, power or model railroads. Women are poison.”
Farradyne burned with resentment at any proposition whereby he, who had not committed anything more than a few misdemeanors and some rather normal fun and games which are listed on the books but are likely to be overlooked, should be less cultured, less successful and less poised than this family of low-grade vultures. If anything, the attitude of Mrs. Niles shocked him more than the acts of her husband.
In the background was the muted sibilant of the reaction motor, a sound like the shush of a distant seashore. Farradyne heard these sounds unconsciously. They were as pleasant to the ears of the spaceman as the sounds of a sailing ship were to the oldtime seaman.
The Lancaster made one more complex turn as the end of the punched tape entered the autopilot.
Coldly and calmly Farradyne scanned the skies. Providing they had not travelled more than forty or fifty light years, the constellations before and behind the direct line of flight should be reasonably undistorted,
Man’s inhumanity to man was a pale and insignificant affair compared to the animal ferocity of a woman about to settle up a long-standing account with another woman.
The warp generator permits a top speed of about two light years per hour in Terran figures.
Excitement would carry a person through a lot of trials.
The law of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth is only good when there is a higher authority to see that it goes no further.