Part 13 (1/2)
The idea of Marsport rebelling against Earth seemed ridiculous. Even with guns, they wouldn't have a chance if Earth sent a force of any strength to back Security. But it was the only explanation.
Gordon took the next day off to look for Sheila Corey, but n.o.body would admit having seen her.
He had seen crowds beginning to a.s.semble all afternoon, but had paid no attention to them. Now he found the way back to Corey's blocked by a mob. Then he saw that the object of it all was the First Marsport Bank.
It was only toward that that the shaking fists were raised. Gordon managed to get onto a pile of rubble where he could see over the crowd.
The doors of the bank were locked shut, but men were attacking it with an improvised battering ram. As he watched, a pompous little man came to the upper window over the door and began motioning for attention. The crowd quieted almost at once, except for a single yell. ”When do we get our money?”
”Please. Please.” The voice reached back thinly as the bank president got his silence. ”Please. It won't do you any good. Not a bit. We're broke. Not a cent left! And don't go blaming me. _I_ didn't start the rush. Your friends did that. They took all the money, and now we're cleaned out. You can't--”
A rope rose from the crowd and settled around him. In a second, he was pulled down, and the crowd surged forward.
Gordon dropped from the rubble, staring at the bank. He'd played it safe this time--he'd put his money away, to make sure he'd have it!
A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and he turned to see Mother Corey.
”That's the way a panic is, cobber,” the man said. ”There's a run, then everything is ruined. I tried to get you when I first heard the rumor, but you were gone. And when this starts, a man has to get there first.”
He patted his side, where a bulge showed. ”And I just made it, too.”
The mob was beginning to break up now, but it was still in an ugly mood.
”But what started it?”
”Rumors that Mayor Wayne got a big loan from the bank--and why not, seeing it was his bank! n.o.body had to guess that he'd never pay it back, so--”
Gordon found Izzy organizing the bouncers from the joints and some of the citizens into a squad. Every joint was closed down tightly already.
Gordon began organizing his own squad.
Izzy slipped over as he began to get them organized. ”If we hold past midnight, we'll be set, gov'nor,” he said. ”They go crazy for a while, but give 'em a few hours and they stop most of it. I figure you know where all the scratch went?”
”Sure--guns from Earth! The d.a.m.ned fools!”
”Yeah. But not fools. Just b.l.o.o.d.y well-informed, gov'nor. Earth's sending a fleet--got official word of it. No way of telling how big, but it's coming.”
It gave Gordon something to think about while they patrolled the beat.
But he had enough for a time without that. The mobs left the section alone, apparently scared off by the organized group ready and waiting for them. But every street and alley had to be kept under constant surveillance to drive out the angry, desperate men who were trying to get something to hang onto before everything collapsed. He saw stores being broken into, beyond his beat; and brawls as one drunken, crazed crowd met another. But he kept to his own territory, knowing that there was nothing he could do beyond it.
By midnight, as Izzy had promised, the people had begun to quiet down, however. The anger and hysteria were giving way to a sullen, beaten hopelessness.
Honest Izzy finally seemed satisfied to turn things over to the regular night men. Gordon waited around a while longer, but finally headed back to Mother Corey's place.
Mother Corey put a cup of steaming coffee into his hands. ”You look worse than I do, cobber. Worse than even that granddaughter of mine. She was looking for you!”
”Sheila?” Gordon jerked the word out.
”Yeah. She left a note for you. I put it up in your room.” Mother Corey chuckled. ”Why don't you two get married and make your fighting legal?”
”Thanks for the coffee,” Gordon threw back at him. He was already mounting the stairs.