Red Planet

CHAPTER NINE

Politics

TTffiy WERE IN a large enclosed courtyard, such as characterizes many Martian buildings. They could make out the tops of the towers of the city, or some of them, but their view was much restricted.

"What do you think we ought to do?" asked Frank.

"Mmm... try to find a native and see if we can find out where we've landed. I wish I hadn't let the old fellow get away from us," Jim added. "He spoke Basic."

"You still harping on that?" said Frank. "Anyway I don't think our chances are good; this place looks utterly deserted. You know what I think? I think they've just dumped us."

" 'I think they've just dumped us,'" agreed Willis.

"Shut up. They wouldn't do that," Jim went on to Frank in worried tones. He moved around and stared over the roof of the building. "Say, Frank-"

"Yeah?"

"You see those three little towers, just alike? You can just make out their tips."

"Yeah? What about them?"

"I think I've seen them before."

"Say, I think I have, too!"

They began to run. Five minutes later they were standing on the city wall and there was no longer any doubt about it; they were in the deserted part of Charax. Below them and about three miles away were the bubble domes of South Colony.

Forty minutes of brisk walking, varied with dog-trotting, got them home.

They split up and went directly to their respective homes. "See you later!" Jim called to Frank and hurried away to his father's house. It seemed to take forever for the pressure lock to let him through. Before the presssure had equalized he could hear his mother, echoed by his sister, inquiring via the announcing speaker as to who was at the door, please?-he decided not to answer but to surprise them.

Then he was inside, facing Phyllis whose face was frozen in amazement-only to throw herself around his neck while shouting, "Mother! Mother! Mother! It's Jim! It's Jim!" and Willis was bouncing around the floor and chorusing "It's Jim! It's Jim!" and his mother was crowding Phyl aside and hugging him and getting his face wet with her tears and Jim himself wasn't feeling any too steady.

He managed to push them away presently. His mother stood back a little and said, "Just let me look at you, darling. Oh, my poor baby! Are you all right?" She was ready to weep again.

"Sure, I'm all right," Jim protested. "Why shouldn't I be? Say, is Dad home?"

Mrs. Marlowe looked suddenly apprehensive. "No, Jim, he's at work."

"I've got to see him right away. Say, Mom, what are you looking funny about?"

"Why, becauseUh, nothing. I'll call your father right away." She went to the phone and called the ecological laboratory. He could hear her guarded tones: "Mr. Marlowe? Dear, this is Jane. Could you come home right away?" and his father's reply, "It wouldn't be convenient. What's up? You sound strange."

His mother glanced over her shoulder at Jim, "Are you alone? Can I be overheard?" His father answered, "What's the matter? Tell me." His mother replied, almost in a whisper, "He's home."

There was a short silence. His father answered, "I'll be there right away."

In the meantime Phyllis was grilling Jim. "Say, Jimmy, what in the world have you been doing?"

Jim started to answer, thought better of it. "Kid, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"I don't doubt that. But what have you been doing? You've sure got folks in a stew."

"Never mind. Say, what day is it?"

"Saturday."

"Saturday the what?"

"Saturday the fourteenth of Ceres, of course."

Jim was startled. Pour days? Only four days since he had left Syrds Minor? Then as he reviewed it in his mind, he accepted it. Granting Frank's assertion that the time he had spent down under Cynia was only three hours or so, the rest added up. "Gee! I guess I'm in time then."

"What do you mean, 'in time'?"

"Huh? Oh, you wouldn't understand it. Wait a few years."

"Smarty!"

Mrs. Marlowe came away from the phone. "Your father will be right home, Jim."

"So I heard. Good."

She looked at him. "Are you hungry? Is there anything you would like?"

"Sure, fatted calf and champagne. I'm not really hungry, but I could stand something. How about some cocoa? I've been living on cold stuff out of cans for days."

"Cocoa there shall be."

"Better eat what you can now," put in Phyllis. "Maybe you won't get what you want to eat when-"

"Phyllis!"

"But, Mother, I was just going to say that-"

"Phyllis-keep quiet or leave the room."

Jim's sister subsided with muttering. Shortly the cocoa was ready and while Jim was drinking it his father came in. His father shook hands with him soberly as if he were a grown man. "It's good to see you home. Son."

"It feels mighty good to be home. Dad." Jim gulped the rest of the cocoa. "But look. Dad, I've got a lot to tell you and there isn't any time to waste. Where's Willis?" He looked around. "Anybody see where he went?"

"Never mind Willis. I want to know-"

"But Willis is essential to this. Dad. Oh, Willis! Come here!" Willis came waddling out of the passageway; Jim picked him up.

"All right; you've got Willis," Mr. Marlowe said. "Now pay attention. What is this mess you are in, son?"

Jim frowned. "It's a little hard to know where to start."

"There's a warrant out for you and Frank!" blurted out Phyllis.

Mr. Marlowe said, "Jane, will you please try to keep your daughter quiet?"

"Phyllis, you heard what I said before!"

"Aw, Mother, everybody knows it!"

"Possibly Jim did not know it."

Jim said, "Oh, I guess I did. They had cops chasing us all the way home."

"Frank came with you?" asked his father.

"Oh, sure! But we gave 'em the slip. Those Company cops are stupid."

Mr. Marlowe frowned. "See here, Jim-I'm going to call up the Resident and tell him you are here. But I'm not going to let you surrender until something a lot more definite is shown to me than I have seen so far, and certainly not until we've had your side of the matter. When you do surrender, Dad will go along with you and stick by you."

Jim sat up straight. "Surrender? What are you talking about. Dad?"

His father suddenly looked very old and tired. "Marlowes don't run away from the law. Son. You know I'll stick by you no matter what you've done. But you've got to face up to it."

Jim looked at his father defiantly. "Dad, if you think Frank and I have beaten our way across better than two thousand miles of Mars just to give up when we get here-well, you've just got another think coming. And anybody that tries to arrest me is going to find it a hard job." His right hand, almost instinctively, was hovering around the place where his holster ordinarily hung. Phyllis was listening round-eyed; his mother was quietly dripping tears.

His father said, "Son, you can't take that attitude."

Jim said, "Can't I? Well, I do. Why don't you find out what the score is before you talk about giving me up?" His voice was a bit shrill.

His father bit his lip. His mother said, "Please, Jameswhy don't you wait and hear what he has to say?"

"Of course I want to hear what he has to say," Mr. Marlowe answered irritably. "Didn't I say that? But I can't let my own son sit there and declare himself an outlaw."

"Please, James!"

"Speak your piece. Son."

Jim looked around. "I don't know as I'm so anxious to, now," he said bitterly. "This is a fine homecoming. You all act like I was a criminal or something."

"I'm sorry, Jim," his father said slowly. "Let's keep first things first. Tell us what happened."

"Well... all right. But wait a minutePhyllis said there was a warrant out for me. For what?"

"Well... truancy-but that's not important. Actions to the prejudice of good order and discipline at the school and I myself don't know what they mean by mat. It doesn't worry me. But the real charges are burglary and theft-and another one they tacked on a day later, escaping arrest."

"Escaping arrest? That's silly! They never caught us."

"So? How about the others?"

"Theft is silly, too. I didn't steal anything from himHowe, I mean. Headmaster Howe-he stole Willis from me. And then he laughed at me when I tried to get him back! I'll 'theft' him!" If he ever shows up around me, I'll burn him down!"

"Jim!"

"Well, I will!"

"Go on with your story."

"The burglary business has got something to it. I busted in to his office, or tried to. But he can't prove anything. I'd like to see him show how I could crawl through a ten-inch round hole. And we didn't leave any fingerprints." He added, "Anyhow, I had a right to. He had Willis locked up inside. Say, Dad, can't we swear out a warrant against Howe for stealing Willis? Why should he have it all his own way?"

"Wait a minute, now. You've got me confused. If you have a cause for action against the headmaster, I'll certainly back you up in it. But I want to get things straight. What hole? Did you cut a hole in the headmaster's door?"

"No, Willis did."

"Willis! How can he cut anything?"

"Darned if I know. He just grew an arm with a sort of a claw on the end and cut his way out. I called to him and out he came."

Mr. Marlowe rubbed his forehead. "This gets more confusing all the time. How did you boys get here?"

"By subway. You see-"

"By subway!"

Jim looked thwarted. His mother put in, "James dear, I think perhaps he could tell his story better if we just let him tell it straight through, without interrupting."

"I think you are right," Mr. Marlowe agreed. "I'll reserve my questions. Phyllis, get me a pad and pencil."

Thus facilitated, Jim started over and told a reasonably consecutive and complete story, from Howe's announcement of military-school inspections to their translation via Martian "subway" from Cynia to Charax. When Jim had done, Mr. Marlowe pulled his chin. "Jim, if you didn't have a life-time reputation for stubborn honesty, I'd think you were romancing. As it is, I have to believe it, but it is the most fantastic thing I ever heard."

"You still think I ought to surrender?"

"Eh? No, no-this puts it in a different light. You leave it up to Dad. I'll call the Resident and-"

"Just a second, Dad."

"Eh?"

"I didn't tell you all of it."

"What? You must. Son, if I am to-"

"I didn't want to get my story fouled up with another issue entirely. I'll tell you, but I want to know something. Isn't the colony supposed to be on its way by now?"

"It was supposed to have been," agreed his father. "Migration would have started yesterday by the original schedule. But there has been a two-week postponement."

"That's not a postponement, Dad; that's a frame-up. The Company isn't going to allow the colony to migrate this year. They mean to make us stay here all through the winter."

"What? Why, that's ridiculous, Son; a polar winter is no place for terrestrials. But you are mistaken, it's just a postponement; the Company is revamping the power system at North Colony and is taking advantage of an unusually late winter to finish it before we get there."

"I'm telling you. Dad, that's just a stall. The plan is to keep the colony here until it's too late and force you to stay here through the winter. I can prove it."

"How?"

"Where's Willis?" The bouncer had wandered off again, checking up on his domain.

"Never mind Willis. You've made an unbelievable charge. What makes you think such a thing?"

"But I've got to have Willis to prove it. Here, boy! Come to Jim." Jim gave a rapid summary of what he had learned through Willis's phonographic hearing, following which he tried to get Willis to perform.

Willis was glad to perform. He ran over almost all of the boys' conversation of the past few days, repeated a great amount of Martian speech that was incomprehensible out of context, and sang iQuien Es La Sefiorita? But he could not, or would not, recall Beecher's conversation.

Jim was still coaxing him when the phone sounded. Mr. Marlowe said, "Phyllis, answer that."

She trotted back in a moment. "It's for you. Daddy."

Jim shut Willis up; they could hear both ends of the conversation. "Marlowe? This is the Resident Agent. I hear that boy of yours has turned up."

Jim's father glanced over his shoulder, hesitated. "Yes. He's here."

"Well, keep him there. I'm sending a man over to pick him up."

Mr. Marlowe hesitated again. "That's not necessary, Mr. Kruger. I'm not through talking with him. He won't go away."

"Come, come, Marlowe-you can't interfere with orderly legal processes. I'm executing that warrant at once."

"You are? You just think you are." Mr. Marlowe started to add something, thought better of it, and switched off. The phone sounded again almost at once. "If that's the Resident," he said, "I won't speak to him. If I do, I'll say something I'll regret."

But it was not; it was Frank's father. "Marlowe? Jamie, this is Pat Sutton." The conversation showed that each father had gotten about to the same point with his son.

"We were just about to try to get something out of Jim's bouncer," Mr. Marlowe added. "It seems he overheard a pretty damning conversation."

"Yes, I know," agreed Mr. Sutton. "I want to hear it, too. Hold it till we get there."

"Fine. Oh, by the way-friend Kruger is out to arrest the kids right away. Watch out."

"How well I know it; he just called me. And I put a flea in his ear. 'Bye now!"

Mr. Marlowe switched off, then went to the front door and locked it. He did the same to the door of the tunnels. He was none too soon; the signal showing that someone had entered the pressure lock came on shortly. "Who is it?" called out Jim's father.

"Company business!"

"What sort of Company business and who is it?"

"This is the Resident's proctor. I've come for James Marlowe, Junior."

"You might as well go away again. You won't get him." There was a whispered exchange outside the door, then the lock was rattled.

"Open up that door," came another voice. "We have a warrant."

"Go away. I'm switching off the speaker." Mr. Marlowe did so.

The pressure lock indicator showed presently that the visitors had left, but shortly it indicated occupancy again. Mr. Marlowe switched the speaker back on. "If you've come back, you might as well leave," he said.

"What sort of a welcome is this, Jamie my boy?" came Mr. Sutton's voice.

"Oh, Pat! Are you alone?"

"Only my boy Francis and that's all."

They were let in. "Did you see anything of proctors?" Mr. Marlowe inquired.

"Yep, I ran into 'em."

"Pop told them that if they touched me he'd burn their legs off," Frank said proudly, "and he would, too."

Jim caught his father's eye. Mr. Marlowe looked away. Mr. Sutton went on, "Now what's this about Jim's pet having evidence for us? Let's crank him up and hear him talk."

"We've been trying to," Jim said. "I'll try again. Here, Willis-" Jim took him in his lap. "Now, look, Willis, do you remember Headmaster Howe?"

Willis promptly became a featureless ball.

"That's not the way to do it," objected Frank. "You remember what set him off before. Hey, Willis." Willis extended his eyes. "Listen to me, chum. 'Good afternoon. Good afternoon, Mark,' Frank continued in a fair imitation of the Agent General's rich, affected tones. " 'Sit down, my boy.'"

"'Always happy to see you,'" Willis continued in exact imitation of Beecher's voice. He went on from there, reciting perfectly the two conversations he had overheard between the headmaster and the Resident Agent General, and including the meaningless interlude between them.

When he had finished and seemed disposed to continue with all that had followed up to the present moment, Jim shut him off.

"Well," said Jim's father, "what do you think of it. Pat?"

"I think it's terrible," put in Jim's mother.

Mr. Sutton screwed up his face. "Tomorrow I am taking myself down to Syrtis Minor and there I shall take the place apart with my two hands."

"An admirable sentiment," agreed Mr. Marlowe, "but this is a matter for the whole colony. I think our first step should be to call a town meeting and let everyone know what we are up against."

"Humph! No doubt you are right but you'll be taking all the fan out of it."

Mr. Marlowe smiled. "I imagine there will be excitement enough to suit you before this is over. Kruger isn't going to like it-and neither is the Honorable Mr. Gaines Beecher."

Mr. Sutton wanted Dr. MacRae to examine Frank's throat and Jim's father decided, over Jim's protest, that it would be a good idea to have him examine Jim as well. The two men escorted the boys to the Doctor's house. There Mr. Marlowe instructed them, "Stay here until we get back, kids. I don't want Kruger's proctors picking you up."

"I'd like to see them try!"

"Me, too."

"I don't want them to try; I want to settle the matter first. We're going over to the Resident's office and offer to pay for the food you kids appropriated and, Jim, I'll offer to pay for me damage Willis did to Headmaster Howe's precious door. Then-"

"But, Dad, we oughn't to pay for that. Howe shouldn't have locked him up."

"I agree with the kid," said Mr. Sutton. 'The food, now, that's another matter. The boys took it; we pay for it."

"You're both right," agreed Mr. Marlowe, "but it's worth it to knock the props out of these ridiculous charges. Then I'm going to swear out a warrant against Howe for attempting to steal, or enslave, Willis. What would you say it was. Pat? Steal, or enslave?"

"Call it 'steal'; you'll not be raising side issues, then."

"All right. Then I shall insist that he consult the planet office before taking any action. I think that will stop his clock for the time being."

"Dad," put in Jim, "you aren't going to tell the Resident that we've found out about the migration frame-up, are you? He would just turn around and call Beecher."

"Not just yet, though he's bound to know at the town meeting. He won't be able to call Beecher then; Deimos sets in two hours." Mr. Marlowe glanced at his watch. "See you later, boys. We've got things to do."

Doctor MacRae looked up as they came in. "Maggie, bar the door!" he called out. "We've got two dangerous criminals."

"Howdy, Doc."

"Come in and rest yourselves. Tell me all about it."

It was fully an hour later that MacRae said, "Well, Frank, I suppose I had better look you over. Then I'll have a look at you, Jim."

"There's nothing wrong with me. Doc."

"How would like a clout in the head? Start some more coffee while I take care of Frank." The room was well stocked with the latest diagnostic equipment, but MacRae did not bother with it. He tilted Frank's head back, told him to say aaaah!, thumped his chest, and listened to his heart. "You'll live," he decided. "Any kid who can hitchhike from Syrtis to Charax will live a long time."

"'Hitchhike'?" asked Frank.

"Beat your way. It's an expression that was used way back when women wore skirts. Your turn, Jim." He took even less time to dispose of Jim. Then the three friends settled back to visit.

"I want to know more about this night you spent in the cabbage head," Doc announced. "Willis I can understand, since any Martian creature can tuck his tail in and live indefinitely without air. But by rights you two laddie bucks should have smothered. The plant closed up entirely?"

"Oh, yes," Jim assured him, then related the event in more detail. When he got to the point about the flashlight MacRae

stopped him.

"That's it, that's it. You didn't mention that before. The flashlight saved your lives, son."

"Huh? How?"

"Photosynthesis. You shine light on green leaf and it can no more help taking in carbon dioxide and giving off oxygen than you can help breathing." The doctor stared at the ceiling, his lips moving while he figured. "Must have been pretty stuffy, just the same; you were short on green leaf surface. What kind of a torch was it?"

"A G.E. 'Midnight Sun.' It was stuffy, terribly."

"A 'Midnight Sun' has enough candle power to do the trick. Hereafter I'll carry one if I'm going further than twenty feet from my front stoop. It's a good dodge."

"Something that still puzzles me," said Jim, "is how I could see a movie that covered every bit of the time I've had Willis, minute by minute, without missing anything, and have it turn out to be only three or four hours."

"That," Doc said slowly, "is not nearly so mysterious as the other matter, the matter of why you were shown this."

"Huh?"

"I've wondered about that, too," put in Frank. "After all, Willis is a pretty insignificant creature-take it easy, Jim! What was the point in running over his biography for Jim? What do you think. Doc?"

"The only hypothesis I've got on that point is so wildly fantastic that I'll keep it to myself, thank you. But on the point of time, Jim-can you think of any way to photograph a person's memories?"

"Uh, no."

"I'll go further and state flatly that it is impossible. Yet you described seeing what Willis remembered. That suggest anything to you?"

"No," admitted Jim, "it's got me stumped. But I did see it."

"Sure, you did-because seeing takes place in the brain and not in the eye. I can close my eyes and 'see' the Great Pyramid shimmering in the desert heat. I can see the donkeys and hear the porters yelling at the tourists. See 'em? Shucks, I can smell 'em-but it's just my memory.

Jim looked thoughtful but Frank looked incredulous. "Say, Doc, what are you talking about? You never saw the Great Pyramid; it was blown up in World War III." Frank was, of course, correct as to his historical facts; the eastern allies should never have used the Pyramid of Cheops as a place to stockpile atom bombs.

Doctor MacRae looked annoyed. "Can't you permit a man a figure of speech? You tend to your own business. Now back to what I was saying, Jim. When only one hypothesis covers the facts, you've got to accept it. You saw what the old Martian wanted you to see. Call it hypnosis."

"ButBut-" Jim was wildly indignant; it felt like an attack on his very inner being. "But I did see it, I tell you. I was there."

"I'll string along with Doc," Frank told him. "You were still seeing things on the trip back."

"How would you like a punch in the nose? The old boy did so make the trip back with us; if you had kept your eyes open, you would have seen him."

"Easy, there," cautioned Doc, "if you lugs want to fight, go outside. Has it occurred to you that both of you might be right?"

"What? How could we be?" objected Frank.

"I don't like to put words to it, but I can tell you this: I've lived long enough to know that man does not live by bread alone and that the cadaver I perform an autopsy on is not the man himself. The most wildly impossible philosophy of ail is materialism. We'll leave it at that."

Frank was about to object again when the lock signalled visitors; the boys' patents were back. "Come in, come in, gentlemen," the doctor roared. "You're just in time. We were having a go at solipsism. Pull up a pulpit and take part. Coffee?"

"Solipsism, is it?" said Mr. Sutton. "Francis, pay no mind to the old heathen. You listen to what Father deary tells you."

"He'll pay no mind to me anyhow," MacRae answered.

"That's the healthy thing about kids. How did you make out with the Lord High Executioner?"

Mr. Marlowe chuckled. "Kruger was fit to be tied."

The called meeting of the colonists took place that evening in the town hall, central building of the star-shaped group. Mr. Marlowe and Mr. Sutton, having sponsored the meeting, arrived early. They found the meeting-room doors closed and Kruger's two proctors posted outside. Mr. Marlowe ignored the fact (hat they had been attempting to arrest Frank and Jim only a few hours ago; he offered them a civil good evening and said, "Let's get the place opened up. People will be arriving any minute now."

The proctors did not move. The senior of diem, a man named Dumont, announced, "There'll be no meeting tonight."

"What? Why not?"

"Mr. Kruger's orders."

"Did he say why?"

"No."

"This meeting," Mr. Marlowe told him, "has been properly called and will be held. Stand aside."

"Now, Mr. Marlowe, don't make things tough for yourself. I've got my orders and-"

Mr. Sutton crowded forward. "Let me handle him, Jamie." He hitched at his belt. Behind me men, Frank glanced at Jim with a grin and hitched at his belt. All four of them were armed, as were the proctors; the two fathers had decided not to depend on Kruger's self-restraint while waiting for instructions from Syrtis Minor about the warrant.

Dumont looked nervously at Sutton. The colony had no real police force; these two were clerks in the Company's office and proctors only by Kruger's deputization. "You people have got no call to be running around armed to the teeth, inside (he colony," he complained.

"Oh, so that's it?" Mr. Sutton said sweetly. "Well, this job calls for no gun. Here, Francis-hold my heater." With empty holster he advanced on them. "Now would you like to be tossed out gently or would you prefer to bounce?"

For years before coming to Mars Mr. Sutton had used something other than his engineering degree to dominate tough construction gangs. He was not much bigger than Dumont but immeasurably tougher. Dumont backed into his cohort and stepped on his toes. "Now see here, Mr. Sutton, you've noHey! Mr. Kruger!"

They all looked around. The Resident was approaching. He took in the scene and said briskly, "What's this? Sutton, are you interfering with my men?"

"Not a bit of it," denied Mr. Sutton. "They were interfering with me. Tell them to stand aside."

Kruger shook his head. "The meeting is canceled."

Mr. Marlowe stepped forward. "By whom?"

"Icanceled it."

"By what authority? I have the approval of all councilors and will, if necessary, get you the names of twenty colonists." Twenty colonists could call a meeting without permission from the council, under the colony's rules.

"That's beside the point. The rule reads that meetings are to consider matters 'of public interest'; it cannot be construed as 'of public interest' to agitate about criminal indictments in advance of trial-and I won't let you take advantage of the rules to do so. After all, I have the final word. I do not intend to surrender to mob rule and agitation."

A crowd was forming, colonists come to me meeting. Marlowe said, "Are you through?"

"Yes, except to say that these others and you yourself should return to your quarters."

"They will do as they please-and so will I. Mr. Kruger, I am amazed to hear you say that a civil-rights case is not of public interest. Our neighbors here have boys who are still under the care, if you call it that, of Headmaster Howe; they are interested in how their sons are treated. However, that is not the purpose of the meeting. I give you my word that neither Mr. Sutton nor I intend to ask the colony to take any action about the charges against our sons. Will you accept that and withdraw your proctors?"

"What is the purpose, then?"

"It's a matter of urgent interest to every member of the colony. I'll discuss it inside."

"Hummph!"

By this time several councilors were in the crowd. One of them, Mr. Juan Montez, stepped forward. "Just a minute. Mr. Marlowe, when you called me about this meeting, I had no notion that the Resident objected."

"The Resident has no option in the matter."

"Well, that's never come up before. He does have a veto over actions of meetings. Why don't you tell us what tire meeting is for?"

"Don't give in, Jamie!" It was Doctor MacRae; he shouldered forward. "What kind of nincompoop are you, Montez? I'm sony I voted for you. We meet when it suits us, not when Kruger says we may. How about it, folks?"

There was a murmur of approval. Mr. Marlowe said, "I wasn't going to tell him. Doc. I want everybody here and the doors closed when I talk."

Montez went into a huddle with other councilors. Out of it came Hendrix, the chairman. "Mr. Marlowe, just to keep things regular, will you tell the council why you want this meeting?"

Jim's father shook his head. "You okayed the meeting. Otherwise I would have collected twenty signatures and forced a meeting. Can't you stand up to Kruger?"

"We don't need them, Jamie," MacRae assured him. He turned to the crowd, now growing fast. "Who wants a meeting? Who wants to hear what Marlowe has to tell us?"

"I do!" came a shout.

"Who's mat? Oh-Kelly. All right, Kelly and I make two. Are there eighteen more here who don't have to ask Kruger for permission to sneeze? Speak up."

There was another shout and another. "That's three-and four." Seconds later MacRae called off the twentieth; he turned to the Resident. "Get your stooges out of that doorway, Kruger."

Kruger sputtered. Hendrix whispered with him, then motioned the two proctors away. They were only too happy to treat this as a relayed order from Kruger; the crowd poured into the hall.

Kruger took a seat in the rear; ordinarily he sat on the platform.

Jim's father found that none of the councilors cared to preside; he stepped to the platform himself. "Let's elect a chairman," he announced.

"You run it, Jamie," It was Doc MacRae.

"Let's have order, please. Do I hear a nomination?"

"Mr. Chairman-"

"Yes, Mr. Konski?"

"I nominate you."

"Very well. Now let's have some others." But there were none; he kept the gavel by unanimous consent.

Mr. Marlowe told them that news had come to him which vitally affected the colony. He then gave the bald facts about how Willis had come into Howe's hands. Kruger stood up. "Marlowe!"

"Address the chair, please."

"Mr. Chairman," Kruger acceded sourly, "you said this meeting was not to stir up sympathy for your son. You are simply trying to keep him from having to take his medicine. You-"

Mr. Marlowe pounded his gavel. "You're out of order. Sit down."

"I won't sit down. You had the bare-faced gall to-"

"Mr. Kelly, I appoint you sergeant-at-anns. Keep order. Pick your own deputies."

Kruger sat down. Mr. Marlowe went on, "This meeting has nothing to do with the charges against my son and Pat Sutton's boy, but the news I have came through them. You've all seen Martian roundheads-bouncers, the kids call them, and you know their amazing ability to repeat sounds. Probably most of you have heard my son's pet perform. It happened that this particular roundhead was within hearing when some things were discussed that we all need to know about. Jim-bring your pet here."

Jim, feeling self-conscious, mounted the platform and sat Willis on the speaker's table. Willis looked around and promptly battened down all hatches. "Jim," his father whispered urgently, "snap him out of it."

"I'll try," agreed Jim. "Come on, boy. Nobody's going to hurt Willis. Come out; Jim wants to talk to you."

His father said to the audience, "These creatures are timid. Please be very quiet," then, "How about it, Jim?"

"I'm trying."

"Confound it, we should have made a recording."

Willis chose this minute to come out of hiding. "Look, Willis boy," Jim went on, "Jim wants you to talk. Everybody is waiting for Willis to talk. Come on, now. 'Good afternoon. Good afternoon. Mark.'"

Willis picked it up. " 'Sit down, my boy. Always happy to see you.'" He went on, reeling off the words of Howe and Beecher.

Somebody recognized Beecher's voice; there was a muffled exclamation as he passed his knowledge on. Mr. Marlowe made frantic shushing signs.

Presently, as Beecher was expounding by proxy his theory of "legitimate graft," Kruger got up. Kelly placed hands on his shoulders and pushed him down. Kruger started to protest;

Kelly placed a hand over Kruger's mouth. He then smiled; it was something he had been wanting to do ever since Kruger had first been assigned to the colony.

The audience got restless between the two significant conversations; Mr. Marlowe promised by pantomime that the best was yet to come. He need not have worried; Willis, once wound up, was as hard to stop as an after-dinner speaker. There was amazed silence when he had finished, then a murmur mat became a growl. It changed to uproar as everyone tried to talk at once. Marlowe pounded for order and Willis closed up. Presently Andrews, a young technician, got the floor.

"Mr. Chairman... we know how important this is, if it's true-but how reliable is that beastie?"

"Eh? I don't think it's possible for one of them to repeat other than verbatim. Is there a psychological expert present who might give us an opinion? How about you, Dr. Ibanez?"

"I agree, Mr. Marlowe. A roundhead can originate speech on its mental level, but a speech such as we just heard is something it has listened to. It repeats parrot-fashion exactly what it has heard. I doubt if such a 'recording,' if I may call it that, may be modified after it has been impressed on the animal's nervous system; it's an involuntary reflex-complicated and beautiful, but reflex nevertheless."

"Does that satisfy you, Andy?"

"Uh, no. Everybody knows that a bouncer is just a superparrot and not smart enough to lie. But is that the Resident General's voice? It sounds like it, but I've only heard him over the radio."

Someone called out, "It's Beecher. I had to listen to his drivel often enough, when I was stationed at Syrtis."

Andrews shook his head. "Sure, it sounds like him, but we've got to know. It could be a clever actor."

Kruger had been quiet, in a condition resembling shock. The revelation had come as a surprise to him, too, as Beecher had not dared trust anyone on the spot. But Kruger's conscience was not easy; there were tell-tale signs in his own despatch file that Willis's report was correct; migration required a number of routine orders from the planet office. He was uncomfortably aware that none of the proper groundwork had been laid if, as was the official claim, migration were to take place in less than two weeks.

But Andrews's comment gave him a straw to clutch. Standing, he said, "I'm glad somebody has sense enough not to be swindled. How long did it take you to teach him that, Marlowe?"

Kelly said, "Shall I gag him, chief?"

"No. This has to be met. I suppose it's a matter of whether or not you believe my boy and his chum. Do any of you wish to question them?" A long, lean, lanky individual unfolded himself from a rear seat. "I can settle it."

"Eh? Very well, Mr. Toland, you have the floor."

"Got to get some apparatus. Take a few minutes." Toland was an electronic engineer and sound technician.

"OhI think I see what you mean. You'll need a comparison model of Beecher's voice, won't you?"

"Sure. But I've got all I need. Every time Beecher made a speech, Kruger wanted it recorded."

Volunteers were found to help Toland, then Marlowe suggested that it was time for a stretch. At once Mrs. Pottle stood up. "Mr. Marlowe!"

"Yes, Mrs. Pottle. Quiet, everybody."

"I for one will not remain here one minute longer and listen to this nonsense! The idea of making such charges against dear Mr. Beecher! To say nothing of what you let that awful man Kelly do to Mr. Kruger! And as for that beast-" She pointed to Willis. "It is utterly unreliable, as I know full well." She paused to snort, then said, "Come, dear," to Mr. Pottle, and started to flounce out.

"Stop her, Kelly!" Mr. Marlowe went on quietly, "I had hoped that no one would try to leave until we reached a decision. If the colony decides to act it may be to our advantage to keep it as a surprise. Will the meeting authorize me to take steps to see that no scooter leaves the colony until you have made up your minds about the issue?"

There was just one "no," from Mrs. Pottle. "Conscript some help, Mr. Kelly," Marlowe ordered, "and carry out the will of the meeting."

"Right, chief!"

"You can go now, Mrs. Pottle. Not you, Mr. Kruger." Mr. Pottle hesitated in bewilderment, then trotted after his wife.

Toland returned and set up his apparatus on the platform. With Jim's help, Willis was persuaded to perform again, this time into a recorder. Shortly Toland held up his hand. "That's enough. Let me find some matching words." He selected "colony," "company," "afternoon," and "Martian" because they were easy to find in each recording, Willis's and an identified radio speech of the Resident General. Each he checked with care, throwing complex standing waves on the bright screen of an oscilloscope, waves that earmarked the peculiar timbre of an individual's voice as certainly as a fingerprint would identify his body.

At last he stood up. "It's Beecher's voice," he said flatly.

Jim's father again had to pound for order. When he had got it, he said, "Very well-what is your pleasure?"

Someone shouted, "Let's lynch Beecher." The chairman suggested that they stick to practical objectives.

Someone else called out, "What's Kruger got to say about it?"

Marlowe turned to Kruger. "Mr. Resident Agent, you speak for the Company. What about it?"

Kruger wet his lips. "If one assumes that that beast is actually reporting statements of the Agent General-"

"Quit stalling!"

"Toland proved it!"

Kruger's eyes darted around; he was faced with a decision impossible for a man of his temperament. "Well, it's really no business of mine," he said angrily. "I'm about to be transferred."

MacRae got up. "Mr. Kruger, you are custodian of our welfare. You mean to say you won't stand up for our rights?"

"Well, now, Doctor, I work for the Company. If this is its policy-and I'm not admitting it-you can't expect me to go against it."

"I work for the Company, too," the Doctor growled, "but I didn't sell myself to it, body and soul." His eyes swept the crowd. "How about it, folks? Shall we throw him out on his ear?"

Marlowe had to bang for order. "Sit down. Doctor. We haven't time to waste on trivia."

"Mr. Chairman-"

"Yes, Mrs. Palmer?"

"What do you think we ought to do?"

"I would rather that suggestions came from the floor."

"Oh, nonsense-you've known about it longer than we have; you must have an opinion. Speak up."

Marlowe saw that her wish was popular. "Very well, I speak for myself and Mr. Sutton. By contract we are entitled to migrate and the Company is obligated to let us. I say go ahead and do so, at once."

"I so move!"

"I second!"

"Question!"-"Question!"

"Is there debate?" asked Marlowe.

"Just a moment, Mr. Chairman-" The speaker was one Humphrey Gibbs, a small precise individual. "-we are acting hastily and, if I may say so, not in proper procedure. We have not exhausted our possible reliefs. We should communicate with Mr. Beecher. It may be that there are good reasons for this change in policy-"

"How are you going to like a hundred below!"

"Mr. Chairman, I really must insist on order."

"Let him have his say," Marlowe ordered.

"As I was saying, there may be good reasons, but the Company board back on Earth is perhaps not fully aware of conditions here. If Mr. Beecher is unable to grant us relief, then we should communicate with the board, reason with them. But we should not take the law into our own hands. If worst comes to worst, we have a contract; if forced to do so, we can always sue." He sat down.

MacRae got up again. "Anybody mind if I talk? I don't want to hog the proceedings." Silence gave approval; he went on, "So this pantywaist wants to sue! With the temperature outside a hundred and thirty below by the time he has 'exhausted his means'-and us!-and with the rime frost a foot deep on the ground he wants it put on some judge's calendar, back on Earth, and hire a lawyer!

"If you want a contract enforced, you have to enforce it yourself. You know what lies behind this; it showed up last season when the Company cut down on the household allowance and started charging excess baggage. I warned you then -but the board was a hundred million miles away and you paid rather than fight. The Company hates the expense of moving us, but more important they are bloody anxious to move more immigrants in here faster than we can take them; they think they see a cheap way out by keeping both North Colony and South Colony filled up all the time, instead of building more buildings. As Sister Gibbs put it, they don't realize the conditions here and they don't know that we can't do effective work in the winter.

"The question is not whether or not we can last out a polar winter, the Eskimo caretakers do that every season. It isn't just a matter of contract; it's a matter of whether we are going to be free men, or are we going to let our decisions be made for us on another planet, by men who have never set foot on Mars!

"Just a minute-let me finish! We are the advance guard. When the atmosphere project is finished, millions of others will follow. Are they going to be ruled by a board of absentee owners on Terra? Is Mars to remain a colony of Earth? Now is the time to settle it!"

There was dead silence, then scattered applause. Marlowe said, "Is there more debate?"

Mr. Sutton got up. "Doc has something there. It was never in my blood to love absentee landlords."

Kelly called out, "Right you are. Pat!"

Jim's father said, "I rule that subject out of order. The question before the house is to migrate, at once, and nothing else. Are you ready for the question?"

They were-and it was carried unanimously. If any refrained from voting, at least they did not vote against. That matter settled, by another ballot they set up an emergency committee, the chairman to hold power subject to review by the committee, and the committee's decisions to be subject to review by the colony.

James Marlowe, Senior, was elected chairman. Dr. MacRae's name was proposed but he refused to let it be considered. Mr. Marlowe got even with him by sticking him on the committee.

South Colony held at the time five hundred and nine persons, from the youngest baby to old Doc MacRae. There were eleven scooters on hand; enough but barely enough to move everyone at one time, provided they were stacked almost like freight and each person was limited to a few pounds only of hand baggage. A routine migration was usually made in three or more sections, with extra scooters provided from Syrtis Minor.

Jim's father decided to move everyone at once and hope that events would permit sending back for personal possessions. The squawks were many, but he stood by his guns, the committee ratified and no one tried to call a town meeting. He set dawn Monday as the zero hour.

Kruger was allowed to keep his office; Marlowe preferred to run the show from his own. But Kelly, who remained a sort of de facto chief of police, was instructed to keep a constant watch over him. Kelly called Marlowe Sunday afternoon. "Hey, chief, what do you know? A couple of Company cops just arrived by scooter to take your boy and the Sutton kid back to Syrtis."

Marlowe considered it. Kruger must have phoned Beecher the moment he heard that the boys were home, he decided. "Where are they now?"

"Right here, in Kruger's office. We arrested them."

"Bring them over. I'd like to question them."

"Right."

They showed up shortly, two very disgruntled men, disarmed and escorted by Kelly and an assistant. "That's fine, Mr. Kelly. No, no need to stay-I'm armed."

When Kelly and his deputy had left, one of the Company men said, "You can't get away with this, you know."

"You're not hurt," Marlowe said reasonably, "and you'll get your guns back presently. I just want to ask you some questions." But all he had gotten out of them, several minutes later, was a series of begrudged negative answers. The intracolony phone sounded again; Kelly's face appeared on the screen. "Chief? You wouldn't believe it-"

"Wouldn't believe what?"

"That old fox Kruger has skipped in the scooter those two birds came in on. I didn't even know he could drive."

Marlowe's calm face concealed his feelings. After a short time he answered, "Departure time is stepped up to sundown, today. Drop everything and get the word around." He consulted a chart. "That's two hours and ten minutes from now."

The squawks were louder even than before; nevertheless as the Sun touched the horizon, the first scooter got underway. The rest followed at thirty second intervals. As the Sun disappeared the last one shoved off and the colony was headed north on its seasonal migration.