Chapter 17

There were no bands or speeches when they came in this time. A lot of contragravity vehicles circled widely around the spaceport, but except for a few news-service cars, the police were keeping them back of a two-mile radius around the landing-pits. A couple of gunboats were making tight circles above, and on the dock were more vehicles and a horde of police and guards.

When Rodney Maxwell came across the bridge from the dock after they opened the airlocks, he was followed by a dozen Barton-Massarra private police, as villainous-looking a collection of ruffians as Conn had ever seen. He was wearing a new suit, with a waist-length jacket instead of the long coat he usually wore, and there was a holstered automatic on each hip. In Litchfield, he never carried more than one pistol, and Storisende was supposed to be an orderly place where nobody needed to go armed. More than anything else, that told Conn approximately what had been going on while he had been on Koshchei.

“Ship-guard,” his father told Yves Jacquemont. “All your crew can come off; they’ll take care of things. Get your people in that troop carrier over there. Everybody will stay at Interplanetary Building. None of the hotels are safe, not even the Ritz-Gartner. And be sure everybody’s well armed when they come off the ship.”

Jacquemont nodded. “I know the drill; I’ve been in Port Oberth on Venus and Skorvann on Loki. Any law we want, we make for ourselves.”

“That’s about it. I’ll see you there. Conn, I wish you’d come with me. Somebody here wants to talk to you.”

He wondered if his mother, or Flora, had come to Storisende. When he asked his father as they crossed onto the dock, there was a brief twinge of pain in Rodney Maxwell’s face.

“No, they’re not having anything to do--Duck; quick!“

Then his father was diving under a lifter-truck that stood empty on the dock. The private police were scattering for cover, and an auto-cannon began pom-pomming. Conn took one quick look in the direction in which it was firing, saw an aircar that had broken through the police line and was rushing toward them, and dived under the lifter after his father. As he did, he saw a missile flash out from one of the gunboats like a thrown knife. Then he huddled beside his father and put his arms over his head.

He felt the heat and shock of the explosion and, an instant later, heard the roar. When nothing immediately disastrous happened after he had counted fifteen seconds, he stuck his head out and looked up. The gunboat was struggling to regain her equilibrium, and the aircar had vanished in a fireball. They both emerged, straightening. His father was brushing himself with his hands and saying something about always having to duck under something when he had a new suit on.

“Robot control, probably; could have been launched from anywhere in town. Why, no; your mother and Flora aren’t speaking to either of us, any more. Pity, of course, but I’m glad they’re in Litchfield. It’s a little healthier there.”

They walked to the slim recon-car and climbed in, pulling the door shut after them. Wade Lucas was waiting for them at the controls.

“There, you see!” he began, as soon as he had the car lifting. “What I’ve been telling you. We’ll have to stop this.”

“Conn, meet our new partner. I told him everything you told me, out on the Mall, the day you came home. I had to,” his father hastened to add. “He’d figured most of it out for himself. The only thing to do was admit him to the lodge and give him the oath.”

“I didn’t know about General Travis; I didn’t even know he was still alive,” Lucas said. “But the rest of it was pretty obvious, once I stopped jumping to conclusions and did a little thinking. You know, ever since I came here I’ve been preaching to these people to stop looking for Merlin and do something to help themselves. You’re smarter than I am, Conn; instead of opposing them, you’re guiding them.”

“Did you tell Flora?”

Lucas shook his head. “I tried to explain what you’re trying to do, but she wouldn’t listen. She just told me I’d gotten to be as big a crook as you two.” He had the car up to fifty thousand; putting it into a wide circle around the city, he locked the controls and got out his cigarettes. “Rod, we’ve got to stop this. You were just lucky this time. Some of these days your luck’s going to run out.”

“How can we stop?” Conn demanded. “Tell them the truth? They’d lynch us, and then go on hunting for Merlin.”

“Worse than that; it’d be a smash worse than the one when the War ended. I was only ten then, but I can remember that very plainly. We can’t stop it, and we wouldn’t dare stop it if we could.”

“What’s been going on here in the last month?” Conn asked. “I’ve been too busy to keep in touch. I know there’s been rioting, and these crackpot sects, but...”

“I think this is personal to us. There have been some ugly things happening. There were four attempts to burglarize our offices. I told you about some of the other stuff, the microphones we found, and so on. The worst thing was Lucy Nocero, my secretary. She just vanished, a couple of weeks ago. Three days later, the police found her wandering in a park, a complete imbecile. Somebody who either didn’t know how to use one or didn’t care what happened had used a mind-probe on her. It’s twenty to one she’ll never recover.”

“It’s this Storisende financial crowd,” Wade Lucas said. “They had things all their own way till Alpha-Interplanetary was organized. Now they’re getting shoved into the background, and they don’t like it.”

“They’re making more money than they ever did, and they just love it,” Rodney Maxwell said. “I’d think it was either Jake Vyckhoven or Sam Murchison.”

“Murchison!” Lucas hooted. “Why, he’s nobody! Federation Minister-General; all the authority of the Terran Federation, and nothing to enforce it with. He doesn’t have a position, here; he has a disease. Sleeping sickness.”

“He certainly doesn’t believe there is a Merlin, does he?” Conn asked.

“I don’t know what he believes, but he’s getting to be Klem Zareff’s opposite number. He thinks this whole thing’s a plot against the Federation. It’s a good thing Klem didn’t get around to repainting his combat vehicles black and green, the way he did the Home Guard stuff at Litchfield.”

“I’d be more likely to think it was Vyckhoven.”

“Could be. Or it could be the Armageddonists, or Human Supremacy; I am ashamed to say that this heil-Merlin Cybernarchist gang are friendly to us. Or it could be some of the banking crowd, or some of these rival space-companies. Barton-Massarra is trying to find out. Well, we have some of Wade’s pet suspects at Interplanetary Building now. There’s been a meeting going for the last week to partition the Alpha Gartner System.”

The Interplanetary Building had been a medium-class residence hotel at the time of the War. Junior staff officers and civilian technicians and their families had lived there. It had been vacant ever since the disastrous outbreak of peace. Now it had a big new fluorolite sign, and housed the offices of all the Maxwell companies. There was a truculent display of anti-vehicle weapons on the top landing stage, and more Barton-Massarra private police. They looked even more villainous then the ones at the spaceport. Conn recalled having heard that most of the Blackie Perales gang had been discharged for lack of evidence; he wondered how many of them had hired with Barton-Massarra.