Alan E. Nourse (18 page)

been
so hidebound and devoted to authority that
I've let it blind me. I'm truly sorry. Perhaps there's still time to salvage
something." He held out his hand to the colony leader. "I'll back you
to a man, Anson. I'll back this colony in every way I can. We'll have to stop
Cor
-tell, if the boys can lead us to him, and try to break
his plan right now. And then I think there'll be some changes for the Titan
colony. I don't know how I can do it—I'm only one man; they may never believe
me, but I'll fight for all I'm worth. I'll open their eyes, somehow, I'll get
your story before the legislative bodies back on Earth, get it to the ears
where it will do some good. And there will be some changes made, if it's the
last thing I do. This time, Earth won't let you down."

Ten minutes later the four of them were bent
excitedly over a huge map of the underground mining tunnel and a topographical
map of the region which David had made. "This is the place where the
entrance to the ship tunnel is,"
Torm
was
saying. "It's carefully concealed where it breaks from this main tunnel,
and
Cortell
will have it guarded. And this—" he
pointed beyond the area marked
radioactives
,
"is the location of the ship."

The
Colonel studied the picture. "We should approach from both ends, in case
they move faster than we anticipate," he said. "You know the colony,
Anson. Suppose you take David, get as many men as you can, and go in from the
colony side. We're closer to the ship right here, so
Tuck
and I can take the men from here and go in at that end." He looked up, and
Torm
nodded approval. "And we want to take him
alive, if we can," the Colonel added. "We've got to get the support
of the colony behind you again, and for good."

David
and his father left in the
Snooper.
The
Colonel and Tuck and four crewmen from the Earth ship clambered into the
half-track that stood on the ground below, and plunged up the rim of rocks
along the route David had charted for them. The trip took almost an hour; Tuck
sat forward, watching the compass, directing the driver of the 'track from
time to time. He hardly dared to breathe as he peered ahead for the first sign
of the ruined camouflage, seeking the bright glint of the star-ship's pointed
nose rising above the rocks. A thousand fears crept slyly through his mind—
what if the ship had been sealed up already, so that they would have to stumble
over it to find it? The cave-in would still be there, but even that would be
invisible until they stumbled upon it. And what if
Cor
-tell
changed his plans, tried a break with the ship before they arrived to stop him?
The minutes passed, and tension mounted; then suddenly Tuck let out a shout,
and pointed beyond the next ridge of rocks.

And
they saw it—the pointed nose of the ship, gleaming in the sunlight, sticking
up from the protecting rim of the crevice. The half-track moved cautiously, approaching
within thirty yards of the crevice. Then the Colonel signaled to the driver to
stop. "Better go on foot," he said. "We're sitting ducks in this
thing."

They clambered out of the vehicle—the four
men

from
the crew armed with projectile guns, the
Colonel with his own service automatic gripped in his suited hand. Tuck carried
a small Barnet shocker, his finger curled against the release stud. Slowly the
men fanned out, moving toward the crevice, their boots clanking on the rocks as
they advanced over the
coarse
terrain—

A
shot rang out, and one of the men clutched his side, toppled forward on the
rocks. "Cover!" the Colonel snapped, and they dived for the rocks as
shots began raining on them from the ship. There were two men there, armed with
the homemade automatics that Tuck had seen before, but these men were more
deadly in their aim. The bullets whizzed by Tuck's ears, striking the rocks
around him as the men slowly slid forward toward the ship. Then the Colonel
eased around a rock, let go four quick shots, and they heard one of the men
groan and crash to the ground. Like a flash, two of the crewmen raced forward
ten feet through a hail of fire,
then
dropped again,
panting. A thought occurred to
Tuck
; he started for
an outcropping of rock to the right as another volley of shots came from the
ship. The gunman's attention was held by the crewmen sneaking up on him, and
he was too well-concealed for them to get in a shot. Tuck quickly moved in to
flank the ship,
then
clambered slowly up on the high,
jagged ridge that overhung the crevice. Far below he saw the glint of sunlight
on a pressure helmet, and with all his strength he ripped off a huge chunk of
rock, and hurled it downward—

The
rock struck the helmet a crashing blow, and the man reeled, firing savagely up
toward Tuck. Too late he realized that he had revealed himself; the Colonel's
gun chattered sharply, and the gunman gripped his side, trying to scramble
back. For a long second he teetered; then his footing slipped, and he fell
crashing into the crevice, down between the ship's wall and the protecting
rock, and struck with a sickening thud at the bottom—

The three crewmen and the Colonel met Tuck at
the edge of the crevice. One of the crewmen was dispatched to care for the man
who had been hit; the rest of them jumped for the ship's scaffolding, and began
to clamber down like monkeys. In a moment they were moving down the tunnel,
over the rocks and debris that had been torn down by the
Murexide
explosion, and then into the blackness that led to
Cortell's
hideout.

For a long while there was silence, broken
only by the plodding of their feet, echoing and re-echoing weirdly from the
rocky walls of the tunnel. Then up ahead they heard shots and shouts. At a signal
from the Colonel they stopped, then moved forward cautiously. Quite suddenly,
they saw a bobbing light up ahead, then another. The Colonel hissed, and they
crouched along the walls, their own lights out, and waited, panting, as the
frantic footfalls came closer. And then two figures materialized behind the
bobbing lights; one of the crewmen pounced on the first man, and the lights
went crashing to the ground. The second man made a break, tripped on an
outstretched leg, and tumbled down, skidding on the ground. The tunnel exploded
into a crashing uproar of scuffling and curses; then, like a knife, a bright
light snapped on, a battle lamp one of the men had carried, and they saw their
prizes, panting, caught like rats in a trap.

Dan
Carver was whimpering, his face a mask of fear as he peered up at his captors.
"Don't tell them," he was babbling, "Don't tell them—take us
back to Earth, do anything, but don't let them know—" He collapsed into
frightened tears, sobbing like a baby. But John
Cortell
just stared around him as though he didn't believe what he saw, and then sank
to the ground, a snarl on his lips. "If you want me back in the
colony," he rasped, "you'll carry me—"

The
Colonel stared down in contempt at the traitor, then jerked a thumb at him, and
nodded to two of the crewmen. "Carry him," the Colonel said.

_{Chapter
17
\ Fearful Choice}

iTE
air
was
heavy with bloodshed. It hung in the huge underground meeting hall of
the Titan colony; it echoed from the dark walls, and dripped from the dead rock
carved generations before; it hung on every face, every grim-faced man and
woman in the hall. Bloodshed hovered in the room like a ghost as the men and
women gathered, muttering to each other in low tones. The faces were bitter
faces, with their violence barely repressed; the mutterings were the noises of
an angry crowd, driven to its limit, and when Colonel Benedict and Anson
Torm
walked down the center aisle to the front of the room,
the muttering rumbled at their heels like a gathering storm. Their eyes were
turned toward
Torm
and the Colonel, sullen eyes that
carried the savage gleam of desperation and hatred.

And
then the guards entered with John
Cortell
—a
surly-faced
Cortell
, face red with anger, eyes that
carried an underlying tinge of fear. The colonists saw him, half-dragged to
the front of the room, and the angry muttering broke into an uproar that
drowned words in a fever of cries and gestures. Fists were shaken in

Anson
Torm's
face.
A
voice cried out, "Let him go!" and a hundred shouts of approval rose
like a tide in the tension-laden room.

Then
Anson
Torm
stood up, his face grim, sweat standing
out on his forehead as he faced the angry crowd. "I want every man and
woman in the colony down here," he shouted above the tumult. "Is
everybody here?"

Somebody
shouted, "Everybody's here—get on with it!"

"Then
let's have it quiet!" The uproar stilled slightly, as all eyes turned to
Torm's
face. "The Colonel from Security told us to
have
Cortell
in his hands by sundown,"
Torm
cried.
"All right.
Cortell
is in his hands, as directed." He turned cold
eyes to
Cor-tell's
face as a pandemonium of protest
broke loose from the crowd. "Let's have it quiet!" he cried again.
"
Cortell
has some things to tell you—before he's
turned over to Earth courts on charges of treason!"

The
uproar burst out again, angrily. A man jumped up in the back of the room,
shaking his fist in the air. "Anson
Torm
is the
only traitor in this room—"

A
cheer went up, and for an instant it looked as if the colonists would rise up
and mob the colony leader. The crewmen around
Cortell
turned to face the crowd, guns raised defensively. And then, like a cat,
Cortell
caught the nearest guard a brutal blow to the side
of the neck, wrenched his gun from his hand as he fell.
Cortell
jumped up on a chair, gun raised above his head, and a cheer went up from the
crowd as the gun lowered straight for Colonel Benedict's head.

"One
move,
and the Earth spy will be dead!"
Cortell
shouted above the uproar.

A
hush fell on the room, a sudden, breathless stillness. The sullenness died on
the colonists' faces, and a cheer went up. "You tell '
em
,
John! You tell '
em
who the traitor is!"

Cortell's
voice was an angry rasp as his eyes shot
around to one of the Earth ship's crewmen who was moving slowly back behind
him.
"Not a move!
I warn you! Even if you could shoot me, your
precious Colonel would never escape this room. And as for our fine colony
leader—" He turned his eyes to
Torm
, jubilantly.
"The shoe is on the other foot
now,
and you'd
better not forget it. You're through with your yellow-bellied deals and your
lies,
Torm
—as of now!"

The
room was full of cheers now. Some of the men were on their feet, ready to move
forward at a glance from
Cortell
. But others
hestitated
, and waited—

And
then, very slowly, Anson
Torm
walked to the table,
and leaped up on top of it, high above the group, so that every man in the room
could see him. "He's a very brave man with a gun—yes, a very brave
man."
Torm's
eyes flashed about the room.
"Well, I have no gun. Take a look—my hands are empty. But I've got
something to say, and you're going to listen—"

"Nobody
wants to hear you," somebody snarled, and there were cheers and
threatening fists.
Cortell's
face darkened with anger; he started to speak, and then caught
Torm's
eye.
And something held him. He sneered, and
stuck his hand in his pocket as Anson
Torm
started to
speak.

"
Cortell
talks
about yellow deals—well, listen to the deal I've made. We've won our fight—do
you hear that? The Colonel came here as an enemy of all of us—he's sitting here
now as a friend. We've asked for equality—he'll fight to give us equality.
We've fought for representation, for education, for the right to go back to
Earth as men, to be regarded as men—all right, he'll fight to give us those
rights."
Torm's
voice rose sharply. "We've
fought against the lies and propaganda that have reduced us to the level of
slaves— he'll stop that propaganda, and tell the truth about Titan to the ends
of the Earth! The Colonel has pledged us these things, and he'll keep his promises."

A
mutter went up from the crowd, but
Torm
cut them off
sharply. "But
Cortell
here has told you that
these things will never happen. No Earthman can be trusted, he says, the time
for rebellion has come, the best solution to our problems is to go aboard the
ship which waits for us, leave Titan, leave our homes, leave the Solar System,
take what providence will offer us and our great-great-grandchildren who remain
at the end of such a voyage. This is what
Cortell
has
been telling you, isn't it? It wouldn't be suicide, he says, there would be
freedom for all of us, he says—isn't that what he says?"
Torm's
eyes turned to
Cortell
,
bitterly.
Cortell's
face had gone dead
white,
and a smile appeared on
Torm's
lips.
"How about that, John?
Did you mean freedom
for everybody?
Or for just a few of your friends?
Tell
them about your plan, John! Tell them how you figured that the fewer people who
embarked on the journey, the greater the chances for success. Tell them why you
planned to leave secretly, to gather your four close friends and their wives
together and leave. Why don't you speak up, John? Why don't you tell them how
you planned to blast off with the ship and leave them here to die when you
ignited the mines—
"

There
was bewilderment on the faces of the crowd now, and disbelief. Eyes were wide,
turned to John
Cortell
. They turned, and saw
Cortell's
face, a white, frightened mask, and realization
began to dawn—

"It's
a lie!"
Cortell
screamed. "Don't listen to
him! He's afraid, he's cornered and he knows it, and he's lying-"

"Well, who are you going to
believe?"
Torm
cried to the colonists. He
pointed an accusing finger at
Cortell
. "Look at
him! And then look at me. Think back, and try to remember the last time I've
lied to you in the last thirty years—think!
Cortell
says I'm afraid—well,
look
at him,
and
then look at me, and see who's afraid—and then remember how many times you've
seen me afraid—"
Torm's
eyes were blazing now,
and his head was high. "Count the times you've seen me cower and cringe
and go white with fear—go ahead, name the times! Name the times you've seen me
a coward. Count the lies you've heard from my lips—and then
look at the man who accuses me!"

The
faces were turned to John
Cortell
now, white faces,
faces with the truth dawning in them. A hundred faces turned to him, two
hundred, and voices began to rise. "Listen!"
Torm
cried. "I told you he's betrayed you—that he planned to leave in secret
with

Carver
and Taggart and
Strang
and
Yeakel
,
to take your ship and leave you behind. He was all ready to go when we caught
him—* He glanced narrowly at the rear of the room, and said, "Well, we can
prove it! Look around you!
Who is missing from the room right now?"

Eyes
looked around, wide, frightened eyes, eyes filling with sudden suspicion. There
was a hush over the room; then a woman let out a gasp and cried, "Their
wives!
Where
are their wives?"

There
was silence, as though a huge curtain had fallen over the room. Then
Torm
said, "Bring '
em
in,
Ned. Show the people who we found on board the star-ship!"

There
was a scuffle on the stairs, and then four figures were pushed down the center
aisle, figures still clad in pressure suits. The room was still as death as
they marched forward—Dan Carver's wife, Johnny Taggart's wife,
Rog
Strang's
wife, John
Cortell's
wife. They moved forward like people condemned,
their hands covering their faces—

And
then, as the crowd rose in fury,
Cortell
jumped down
from the chair with a roar, gun tight in his fist. Slowly he backed toward the
stairs, covered on either side by Pete
Yeakel
and
Rog
Strang
. His face was a mask
of fear now, and when he reached the stairs he broke and ran as the mob fell
upon his lieutenants. One of the Earth ship's crewmen was up the stairs in a
flash, jerking his gun from its holster as he ran.
Cortell
was heading for the main tunnels; his footfalls rang out on the cold rock
ground, until a shot rang out, and he fell, arms flung out, and lay kicking
helplessly, blood streaming from his leg. And then the crewmen were around him,
keeping back the colonists, waving down the bitter shouts, until
stretcher-bearers came from the infirmary, and Doc Taber took over, and
Cortell
was taken away. And then they turned again, and
went back to the hall.

o
    
o
    
o
    
o
    
e

It was much later when Ned Miller appeared at
the door to Anson
Torm's
cabin, just as the Colonel
and Tuck were finishing supper. He stood in the doorway, awkwardly, rubbing his
stubbled
chin, twisting his mining cap in his hands.
Then finally he stepped inside, nodded uncomfortably at the Earth Colonel.

"You
did a fine job, Ned," Anson
Torm
said. "The
timing was perfect—and I thought you'd find the women aboard the ship,
especially when I couldn't spot a one of them in the crowd—"

Ned
nodded uneasily. "Anson," he said, "I've got to say something—"

Torm
looked up. "What is it, Ned?"

The
little miner shifted from one foot to the other. "I've been
delegated," he blurted finally. "Some of the men got together, after
the meeting was over. They want me to talk for them—" He looked up, his
eyes unreadable.

Torm
stood up in alarm. "What's the
trouble?" "We want to go," said Ned Miller softly. "We want
to take the ship and go—"

Torm's
jaw sagged. "Ned! What are you
saying?"

"We mean it, Anson. The Colonel's given
us promises—I know that. But we've heard promises from Earthmen before.
Many promises, wonderful promises.
And always, in the end,
we were worse off than before—"

"Ned, this is
different now!"

"I
know
you believe that," the little man said doggedly. "We—we'd like to.
But we can't."

Torm's
face was white. "What are you trying to
say, Ned?"

"I'm saying we've worked on the ship for
years. I've worked on it, without knowing what I was working on—until today.
But I knew it was a hope against hope, something we could count on, something
we could build our faith into. There's nothing here for me, not any more, not
with my faith built into that ship. And there are a lot of men who feel the
same way. They're afraid the Earthman will go aboard his ship tomorrow and take
it up, and bomb our star-ship to smithereens. And then where would our hope be?
Then what would prevent him from coming back down, and throwing us all into
chains—even you?
Or if not this Earthman, then the next, or
the next after him.
It would be the end, the bitter end of four generations
of work—"

Torm
sat silent for a long time. Then he said,
"What do your men want to do, Ned?"

"There
are a hundred and forty of us—men, women and children. We talked, and we all
feel the same. We want to take the ship and go."

Torm's
face was gray. "You know the chances of
ever finding a landing—"

"We know. But it's a hope. We can have
faith in it. The star-ship is the only answer, for us. If the others want to
stay, take
their chances, that's
their choice. For us,
we want to take the ship while we can."

Torm
looked at him, the weariness of long years
written on his face. "I—I can't give you permission, Ned. That's the man
who can give you permission, or not, as he sees fit." He looked sadly at
Colonel Benedict.