Torm's eyebrows went up. "Come? Where?"
"To the Earth ship—now. Please, Dad, there's no time to waste!" There was an urgency in his son's voice, a frantic urgency Anson had never heard before. It struck a chord of hope in Anson's mind, but he shook his head wearily. "There's nothing we can gain at the Earth ship, son. There's no hope there or anywhere."
"Dad, we've found the star-ship—"
Anson Torm lurched to his feet as if he had been struck. "That's enough, David!" he snapped. "What kind of nonsense—"
David Torm shook his head, glancing at Tuck. "He already knows, Dad, there's no reason to be quiet. We were together, we couldn't have done it by ourselves, neither of us. We found the ship, and we know where Cortell is hiding."
Torm's face was gray. "David, David—"
"Dad, we've got to see Colonel Benedict. We found Cortell's hide-out, we heard what he was saying—" Swiftly he told his father what they had heard, Cortell's plan of treachery. The Colony leader's face grew darker as he listened; he began trembling so violently he could hardly control his hands. "There's no mistake, David? You couldn't have been wrong?"
"There was no mistake, believe me—"
And then Torm was on his feet, struggling into a pressure suit, his eyes haunted. "We'll have to get to the Earth ship," he said. "We can get a half-track—"
"There's not enough time for that. The Snooper will carry us, if we're lucky."
Approximately five minutes later the little jet plane was swooping up into the purple sky away from the colony, leaving a trail of snow in its wake, heading like a carefully aimed arrow for the rocket ship from Earth at the Rocket Landing—
o o o o o
Cortell had been sleeping when the guard burst into the hide-out from the ship tunnel, panting, clutching his side, dragging a leg after him as he walked. He staggered to a seat, gasping. "They ripped open the ship's camouflage," he choked, "broke the whole thing open, and they got away, I couldn't stop them—"
Cortell had the man by the throat, shaking him savagely. "Who? How did they find it? Who was it?"
"Torm's boy, and someone else, I don't know who. They jumped us—I don't know how they found us, I don't know where they came from. They blew up the Murexide and tried to cave in the tunnel, but the beams held—"
Cortell was on his feet, trembling like a wildman when Dan Carver returned. "Get the men," he snarled. "Get them, and get their women. The word will be out any minute—" He pointed silently to the guard.
Dan's jaw sagged, and his face went white. "I just saw Pete and Rog headed this way—"
"Well, get the others!" Cortell screamed. "There's no time—"
"But the leak-"
"Let it leak, let it leak forever. We'll use the supplies we've got, go aboard in suits. But we've got to go—" There was fear in his face now, fear that almost over-
shadowed the cunning, and as Dan started back for the colony, Cortell began packing a supply bag furiously, his eyes darting toward the tunnel, with the fear widening every minute—
Because he knew, coldly, that he was fighting against time now, and time was running out.
o o a « «
Colonel Benedict's face was white as the two boys and Anson Torm filed into the cabin. He didn't look at Tuck, but there was anger in his eyes, and a hurt that was more painful to Tuck than any anger could have been. He stared at them, and when he found his voice, he said, "Did you bring Cortell with you?"
And then the boys were talking, one after another, telling everything. So very much had happened that they could hardly contain themselves. They told him the whole story, and then of their stumbling upon Cor-tell's hiding place, and of the treachery they had heard as they waited, shivering, in the black tunnel outside.
And when they were finished, the anger was gone from the Colonel's eyes, the hurt was vanished. Instead, he looked stunned, shaken beyond belief. He sat down at the desk and stared at them as though they were ghosts, and twice when he tried to speak, words failed him. And then, finally, his voice was very low. "You found this—the two of you, together? David? Tuck?"
The boys nodded.
"It's incredible. Utterly incredible."
Anson Torm's blue eyes caught the Colonel's, held them bravely. "It's true. Every word of it."
"You're telling me that this colony of men and women have been working in secret for over a century —to build this ship?"
"I'm telling you that."
"At the risk of being caught at any time?"
Torm nodded. "They recognized that risk."
The Colonel shook his head numbly. "But there is no interstellar drive."
"Desperation and courage would be their interstellar drive."
"It would take them centuries! They could never return—"
"It would be better than to stay here as slaves."
"But not even knowing that they would find anything when they got there—"
"It would still be better." Anson Torm's voice trembled. "I fought against it—oh, how I fought against it. But I had to guard the secret, too. I couldn't tell you about it. I dared not tell you."
The Colonel shook his head like a man in a dream. "It's incredible. And yet, it's in the human tradition— to go to any length, if a chance of freedom lies at the end—"
He walked slowly across the room. Then he turned to Anson Torm, his eyes on the leader's careworn face. "You colonists must be proud and brave men," he said. He glanced at the boys, his eyes suddenly proud. "We've been fools—both of us. It's taken them to show us what fools, but I'm beginning to see things now that I'd never have believed." He looked up gravely at Anson Torm. "I—I just don't know what to say. I've
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, trie
d 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
t
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. H
e 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—
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