Part 80 (2/2)

Jonnie meanwhile buried the feeder outside the dome in the ground. He had the pretext ready of ”looking for power cables” but he didn't need it. The world slept. He shoved in fuel cartridges to run it for half a year or more, wrapped it in waterproofing, buried it in the hole, pounded in the ground aerial, and restored the turf. n.o.body could detect the gra.s.s had even been touched- a hunter's skill in making deadfalls came in handy. Inside again, he checked. Every lead iris was working flawlessly. The readers were powered. They went on and off at the feeder. He let them run to give Angus and Ker a signal to set their recorders to, over at the Academy.

Jonnie busied himself with placing and armor-welding the desks and drawing board in place. No molecular cutter would ever dent those welds!

At eight o'clock Angus and Ker sauntered in as though just arriving for the day. They bolted the door and both turned huge grins on Jonnie.

”It works!” said Angus. ”We watched you laboring away and even read the serial number of your welding torch.

We got all fifteen readers on the screen!” He thrust out his hand. ”And here's the discs!”

They replayed them. They could even see the grain in material, much less read numbers!

They heaved a sigh of relief.

Then Angus took Jonnie by the shoulder and pointed to the door. ”We needed your skill and ideas up to now.

But from here on, it's just putting cream on the oatmeal to convince Terl. Every minute you stay here is a minute too long.”

Ker was already putting the rigged probe back in exactly the same place, arranging the cabinet just as it had been. ”When I took on this job and suspected you'd be coming,” he said as he worked, ”I fueled a plane. It 's the one exactly opposite the hangar door- 93 is the last of its serial numbers. All waiting for you. They don't want us, they want you!”

”It will take us only forty-five minutes or an hour to rig the rest,” said Angus. ”You get out of here and that's an order from Sir Robert- to get you gone the moment you can leave.”

Ker now had relocked the door of the cabinet and was prying at the corner with a jimmy to make it appear it had been unsuccessfully tampered with without being opened. ”Goodbye!” he said emphatically.

Yes, it was true. They could handle the rest and were in no danger. But it was also true that it had to be completed. He would get ready and stand by in the plane. ”Come down and tell me when it's all done,” he said.

”You got it!” said Angus.

Jonnie gave them a salute, and went out. They locked the door behind him. He went down the pa.s.sage to Char's room to get his kit. It was 8:23 in the morning. Already two hours too late.

Chapter 3.

By five o'clock that morning, Brown Limper Staffor knew he had found Tyler.

For days now he had been unable to sleep, to even sit down quietly or eat. Forgotten were all other cares of state, forgotten were all other tasks that ordinarily occupied his time. With a wild, intent glare in his eyes, for nearly twenty-four hours a day, he had concentrated only upon closing the trap which had been set. Crime must be punished! A malefactor must be brought to book. The safety and integrity of the state must be given priority. Almost every text he had studied on government, all advice he had been given, proved to him only one thing: he had to get Tyler!

Victory had begun to beckon with a drone picture he took off the machine at 3:00 A.M. He had trouble with these machines. Ever since these recorders had been moved to the capital, he had been irritated by their incomprehensible complexity, and he often hit them when they failed to spit out what was wanted. It made him feel martyred having to do all this work with so little help. But he had been scanning the tray of drone takes that were rolling out from Scotland. The pilot who handled drone control and these machines was not here at this time of day. A nuisance.

And there was Tyler! Dancing one of those insane prances the Highlanders did. By bonfire with half a dozen others. Although the pictures were silent, a pain went through his ears as he imagined the crazy pipe music that must have been playing. Yes! Hunting s.h.i.+rt and all, it was Tyler.

The machine gave him a lot of trouble trying to backtrack its trace. He never could tell one Psychlo number from another. But he managed it and got a blown-up view.

It wasn't Tyler! He realized then he was not being logical. Tyler would not be dancing and flinging his arms about. The last time he had seen him down at the compound, Tyler had been limping heavily on a cane and had no use of his right arm.

But at 4:48 A.M. a picture from another drone, then overflying the Lake Victoria area, spewed out and showed a man by the lake throwing rocks in the water. A man with a hunting s.h.i.+rt, same hair, same beard. Tyler! But it couldn't be Tyler because he was using his right arm to throw and as he drew back it was obvious he had no limp.

He had no more than thrown the picture down on the floor when Lars Th.o.r.enson rushed in as though he had news. Brown Limper let him have it but . What were two Tylers doing visible on two different drones in such a short time apart, yet so widely separated on the Earth's surface?

”That's what I am trying to say,” cried Lars. ”There are three Scots who look like Tyler. But that isn't it. You know what Terl told us to look for? Scars on Tyler's neck from the collar he wore so long. I couldn't understand why Stormalong was wearing his scarf so high around his neck. He never did before. And just five minutes ago I woke up with the whole thing plain as daylight! He's hiding those scars! Tyler is down in that compound right now posing as Stam Stavenger! Stormalong!”

For all the wrong reasons, they had reached the right conclusions.

Brown Limper went into immediate action. Time and time again Lars had told him about this great military hero Hitler and his faultless campaigns. Terl had impressed foresight upon him. He had been ready for this moment.

Two days before, he had finalized the contract with General Snith. One hundred credits a day per man was a lot to pay, but Snith was worth it.

Two commandos had gone by truck to the village in the high meadow. There was no town meeting. The villagers had been swept up regardless of any protest. They had been hastily relocated in the distant village on the other side of the mountain Tyler had once chosen for them. The five youths who might have said something were at the Academy, three of them learning machine operation and how to keep the pa.s.ses open in winter with blade sc.r.a.pers, the other two learning to be pilots. Old people and young children didn't have to be listened to and their pleas that their preparations for the coming winter were now ruined could be ignored. As a concession to political sagacity, they had been told they were being moved so the old tactical mines could be dug up and disposed of. These mines- they knew now that they were explosives buried long ago and Brown Limper had shown them this was just another instance of Tyler's lies- had their own role to play in this clever strategy.

Tyler's old home had then been b.o.o.by-trapped with grenades and blasting caps and Brown Limper had been a.s.sured by the Brigante explosive experts that all Tyler would have to do was open a door and he would be blown to bits.

The story would be that Tyler had gone to his house despite warnings about the old mines and that one had blown up. In this way there could not possibly be any outcry or blame attached to Brown Limper. The Senior Mayor Planet was a bit hazy on whether this had been his own idea or Terl's. But no matter, it was brilliant political thinking. The state and nation must be freed of the scourge, the arch-criminal Tyler, and with a minimum of repercussion to the body politic. Also Brown Limper had read someplace that the end justifies the means and this seemed to be a sound basic policy. Brown Limper realized, when he thought about it, that he was becoming a statesman ranked with the most stellar figures of ancient man.

At 6:00 A.M. he ordered General Snith to begin changing the guard at the compound. The cadets were to be permanently relieved on the grounds they didn't like the duty and it interrupted their studies, and the state now had a proper standing army. Brigantes were to be on guard duty there by 8:00 A.M.

A hasty call had ascertained that the other two with ”Stormalong” had left some time ago for the Academy and it was so logged by the duty officer at the compound.

Thompson submachine guns had been issued to the Brigante commando. Somehow a.s.sault rifles were not available but Thompsons were all right for this duty.

Lars had been briefed. He had been given two picked men armed with submachine guns. He was to go to the compound. He was to lie in wait inside until ”Stormalong” appeared and then, with a minimum of disturbance, was to take him in custody. Lars was to bring him here to the courtroom. He was not to alarm Tyler into combat. When Tyler had been formally charged, he would be told his case would be tried by the World Court to be formed in a couple of weeks, and then taken to the old village. ”House arrest” and ”awaiting trial” were terms Brown Limper had looked up. He would inform Tyler that he was under house arrest. Then it was up to Lars to get him to the meadow. There must be no chance taken of alerting cadets or some Russians holding out at the old tomb.

Lars had said, ”I think I should grab him while he's still in Terl's office.”

Brown Limper said, ”No. Terl has a.s.sured me that he can undo any mischief Tyler may get up to if he gets in the office. He has probably remained behind to do something criminal after the others finished. You want to take him alone. The other two might help him. We are after the criminal Tyler. We must get him here smoothly, charge him, and get him up to the meadow. Be polite. Grant any ordinary request. Be smooth. Cause no disturbance. And don't damage the office. That is a request Terl made.”

It all seemed a bit muddy and out of sequence to Lars in the briefing, but he got the essential points. He got his two Brigantes, made sure they had their submachine guns, got an executive armored ground car, and left.

Brown Limper told General Snith, ”Keep your mercenaries out of sight at the compound, but be alert for trouble this morning. Tell them not to start shooting unless they are attacked.”

General Snith got it. His men were ready to earn their pay.

Brown Limper had found the pattern of judicial robes judges used to wear and he had one made for this occasion. He got into it, hopping over to the window and looking out between times, and finally gazed at himself in an old cracked mirror.

The time of reckoning for a lifetime of abuse and insult was at hand!

Chapter 4.

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