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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/20121-8.txt b/20121-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c6cb15e --- /dev/null +++ b/20121-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4313 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lone Star Planet +by Henry Beam Piper and John Joseph McGuire + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Lone Star Planet + +Author: Henry Beam Piper and John Joseph McGuire + +Release Date: January 3, 2007 [EBook #20121] +[This file was first posted on December 16, 2006] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LONE STAR PLANET *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Malcolm Farmer, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + LONE STAR PLANET + + by + + H. Beam Piper and John J. McGuire + + + + +Transcriber's Note: +This etext was prepared from a 1979 reprint of the 1958 original. There is +no evidence that the copyright on this publication was renewed. +Obvious typesetting errors in the source text have been corrected + + + + + + + +Lone Star Planet + +SF + +ace books + +A Division of Charter Communications Inc. + +A GROSSET & DUNLAP COMPANY + +360 Park Avenue South + +New York, New York 10010 + +LONE STAR PLANET + +Copyright © 1958 by Ace Books, Inc. + +Originally published as A PLANET FOR TEXANS + +All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form +or by any means, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a +review, without permission in writing from the publisher. + +All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual +persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. + +This Ace Printing: April 1979 + +Printed in U.S.A. + + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +They started giving me the business as soon as I came through the door +into the Secretary's outer office. + +There was Ethel K'wang-Li, the Secretary's receptionist, at her desk. +There was Courtlant Staynes, the assistant secretary to the +Undersecretary for Economic Penetration, and Norman Gazarin, from +Protocol, and Toby Lawder, from Humanoid Peoples' Affairs, and Raoul +Chavier, and Hans Mannteufel, and Olga Reznik. + +It was a wonder there weren't more of them watching the condemned man's +march to the gibbet: the word that the Secretary had called me in must +have gotten all over the Department since the offices had opened. + +"Ah, Mr. Machiavelli, I presume," Ethel kicked off. + +"Machiavelli, Junior." Olga picked up the ball. "At least, that's the +way he signs it." + +"God's gift to the Consular Service, and the Consular Service's gift to +Policy Planning," Gazarin added. + +"Take it easy, folks. These Hooligan Diplomats would as soon shoot you +as look at you," Mannteufel warned. + +"Be sure and tell the Secretary that your friends all want important +posts in the Galactic Empire." Olga again. + +"Well, I'm glad some of you could read it," I fired back. "Maybe even a +few of you understood what it was all about." + +"Don't worry, Silk," Gazarin told me. "Secretary Ghopal understands what +it was all about. All too well, you'll find." + +A buzzer sounded gently on Ethel K'wang-Li's desk. She snatched up the +handphone and whispered into it. A deathly silence filled the room while +she listened, whispered some more, then hung it up. + +They were all staring at me. + +"Secretary Ghopal is ready to see Mr. Stephen Silk," she said. "This +way, please." + +As I started across the room, Staynes began drumming on the top of the +desk with his fingers, the slow reiterated rhythm to which a man marches +to a military execution. + +"A cigarette?" Lawder inquired tonelessly. "A glass of rum?" + + +There were three men in the Secretary of State's private office. Ghopal +Singh, the Secretary, dark-faced, gray-haired, slender and elegant, +meeting me halfway to his desk. Another slender man, in black, with a +silver-threaded, black neck-scarf: Rudolf Klüng, the Secretary of the +Department of Aggression. + +And a huge, gross-bodied man with a fat baby-face and opaque black eyes. + +When I saw him, I really began to get frightened. + +The fat man was Natalenko, the Security Coördinator. + +"Good morning, Mister Silk," Secretary Ghopal greeted me, his hand +extended. "Gentlemen, Mr. Stephen Silk, about whom we were speaking. +This way, Mr. Silk, if you please." + +There was a low coffee-table at the rear of the office, and four easy +chairs around it. On the round brass table-top were cups and saucers, a +coffee urn, cigarettes--and a copy of the current issue of the _Galactic +Statesmen's Journal_, open at an article entitled _Probable Future +Courses of Solar League Diplomacy_, by somebody who had signed himself +Machiavelli, Jr. + +I was beginning to wish that the pseudonymous Machiavelli, Jr. had never +been born, or, at least, had stayed on Theta Virgo IV and been a +wineberry planter as his father had wanted him to be. + +As I sat down and accepted a cup of coffee, I avoided looking at the +periodical. They were probably going to hang it around my neck before +they shoved me out of the airlock. + +"Mr. Silk is, as you know, in our Consular Service," Ghopal was saying +to the others. "Back on Luna on rotation, doing something in Mr. +Halvord's section. He is the gentleman who did such a splendid job for +us on Assha--Gamma Norma III. + +"And, as he has just demonstrated," he added, gesturing toward the +_Statesman's Journal_ on the Benares-work table, "he is a student both +of the diplomacy of the past and the implications of our present +policies." + +"A bit frank," Klüng commented dubiously. + +"But judicious," Natalenko squeaked, in the high eunuchoid voice that +came so incongruously from his bulk. "He aired his singularly accurate +predictions in a periodical that doesn't have a circulation of more than +a thousand copies outside his own department. And I don't think the +public's semantic reactions to the terminology of imperialism is as bad +as you imagine. They seem quite satisfied, now, with the change in the +title of your department, from Defense to Aggression." + +"Well, we've gone into that, gentlemen," Ghopal said. "If the article +really makes trouble for us, we can always disavow it. There's no +censorship of the _Journal_. And Mr. Silk won't be around to draw fire +on us." + +_Here it comes_, I thought. + +"That sounds pretty ominous, doesn't it, Mr. Silk?" Natalenko tittered +happily, like a ten-year-old who has just found a new beetle to pull the +legs out of. + +"It's really not as bad as it sounds, Mr. Silk," Ghopal hastened to +reassure me. "We are going to have to banish you for a while, but I +daresay that won't be so bad. The social life here on Luna has probably +begun to pall, anyhow. So we're sending you to Capella IV." + +"Capella IV," I repeated, trying to remember something about it. Capella +was a GO-type, like Sol; that wouldn't be so bad. + +"New Texas," Klüng helped me out. + +_Oh, God, no!_ I thought. + +"It happens that we need somebody of your sort on that planet, Mr. +Silk," Ghopal said. "Some of the trouble is in my department and some of +it is in Mr. Klüng's; for that reason, perhaps it would be better if +Coördinator Natalenko explained it to you." + +"You know, I assume, our chief interest in New Texas?" Natalenko asked. + +"I had some of it for breakfast, sir," I replied. "Supercow." + +Natalenko tittered again. "Yes, New Texas is the butcher shop of the +galaxy. In more ways than one, I'm afraid you'll find. They just +butchered one of our people there a short while ago. Our Ambassador, in +fact." + +That would be Silas Cumshaw, and this was the first I'd heard about it. + +I asked when it had happened. + +"A couple of months ago. We just heard about it last evening, when the +news came in on a freighter from there. Which serves to point up +something you stressed in your article--the difficulties of trying to +run a centralized democratic government on a galactic scale. But we have +another interest, which may be even more urgent than our need for New +Texan meat. You've heard, of course, of the z'Srauff." + +That was a statement, not a question; Natalenko wasn't trying to insult +me. I knew who the z'Srauff were; I'd run into them, here and there. One +of the extra-solar intelligent humanoid races, who seemed to have been +evolved from canine or canine-like ancestors, instead of primates. Most +of them could speak Basic English, but I never saw one who would admit +to understanding more of our language than the 850-word Basic +vocabulary. They occupied a half-dozen planets in a small star-cluster +about forty light-years beyond the Capella system. They had developed +normal-space reaction-drive ships before we came into contact with +them, and they had quickly picked up the hyperspace-drive from us back +in those days when the Solar League was still playing Missionaries of +Progress and trying to run a galaxy-wide Point-Four program. + +In the past century, it had become almost impossible for anybody to get +into their star-group, although z'Srauff ships were orbiting in on every +planet that the League had settled or controlled. There were z'Srauff +traders and small merchants all over the galaxy, and you almost never +saw one of them without a camera. Their little meteor-mining boats were +everywhere, and all of them carried more of the most modern radar and +astrogational equipment than a meteor-miner's lifetime earnings would +pay for. + +I also knew that they were one of the chief causes of ulcers and +premature gray hair at the League capital on Luna. I'd done a little +reading on pre-spaceflight Terran history; I had been impressed by the +parallel between the present situation and one which had culminated, two +and a half centuries before, on the morning of 7 December, 1941. + +"What," Natalenko inquired, "do you think Machiavelli, Junior would do +about the z'Srauff?" + +"We have a Department of Aggression," I replied. "Its mottoes are, 'Stop +trouble before it starts,' and, 'If we have to fight, let's do it on the +other fellow's real estate.' But this situation is just a little too +delicate for literal application of those principles. An unprovoked +attack on the z'Srauff would set every other non-human race in the +galaxy against us.... Would an attack by the z'Srauff on New Texas +constitute just provocation?" + +"It might. New Texas is an independent planet. Its people are +descendants of emigrants from Terra who wanted to get away from the rule +of the Solar League. We've been trying for half a century to persuade +the New Texan government to join the League. We need their planet, for +both strategic and commercial reasons. With the z'Srauff for neighbors, +they need us as much at least as we need them. The problem is to make +them understand that." + +I nodded again. "And an attack by the z'Srauff would do that, too, sir," +I said. + +Natalenko tittered again. "You see, gentlemen! Our Mr. Silk picks things +up very handily, doesn't he?" He turned to Secretary of State Ghopal. +"You take it from there," he invited. + +Ghopal Singh smiled benignly. "Well, that's it, Stephen," he said. "We +need a man on New Texas who can get things done. Three things, to be +exact. + +"First, find out why poor Mr. Cumshaw was murdered, and what can be done +about it to maintain our prestige without alienating the New Texans. + +"Second, bring the government and people of New Texas to a realization +that they need the Solar League as much as we need them. + +"And, third, forestall or expose the plans for the z'Srauff invasion of +New Texas." + +_Is that all, now?_ I thought. _He doesn't want a diplomat; he wants a +magician._ + +"And what," I asked, "will my official position be on New Texas, sir? Or +will I have one, of any sort?" + +"Oh, yes, indeed, Mr. Silk. Your official position will be that of +Ambassador Plenipotentiary and Envoy Extraordinary. That, I believe, is +the only vacancy which exists in the Diplomatic Service on that planet." + +At Dumbarton Oaks Diplomatic Academy, they haze the freshmen by making +them sit on a one-legged stool and balance a teacup and saucer on one +knee while the upper classmen pelt them with ping-pong balls. Whoever +invented that and the other similar forms of hazing was one of the great +geniuses of the Service. So I sipped my coffee, set down the cup, took a +puff from my cigarette, then said: + +"I am indeed deeply honored, Mr. Secretary. I trust I needn't go into +any assurances that I will do everything possible to justify your trust +in me." + +"I believe he will, Mr. Secretary," Natalenko piped, in a manner that +chilled my blood. + +"Yes, I believe so," Ghopal Singh said. "Now, Mr. Ambassador, there's a +liner in orbit two thousand miles off Luna, which has been held from +blasting off for the last eight hours, waiting for you. Don't bother +packing more than a few things; you can get everything you'll need +aboard, or at New Austin, the planetary capital. We have a man whom +Coördinator Natalenko has secured for us, a native New Texan, Hoddy +Ringo by name. He'll act as your personal secretary. He's aboard the +ship now. You'll have to hurry, I'm afraid.... Well, _bon voyage_, Mr. +Ambassador." + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The death-watch outside had grown to about fifteen or twenty. They were +all waiting in happy anticipation as I came out of the Secretary's +office. + +"What did he do to you, Silk?" Courtlant Staynes asked, amusedly. + +"Demoted me. Kicked me off the Hooligan Diplomats," I said glumly. + +"Demoted you from the Consular Service?" Staynes asked scornfully. +"Impossible!" + +"Yes. He demoted me to the Cookie Pushers. Clear down to Ambassador." + +They got a terrific laugh. I went out, wondering what sort of noises +they'd make, the next morning, when the appointments sheet was posted. + + +I gathered a few things together, mostly small personal items, and all +the microfilms that I could find on New Texas, then got aboard the Space +Navy cutter that was waiting to take me to the ship. It was a four-hour +trip and I put in the time going over my hastily-assembled microfilm +library and using a stenophone to dictate a reading list for the +spacetrip. + +As I rolled up the stenophone-tape, I wondered what sort of secretary +they had given me; and, in passing, why Natalenko's department had +furnished him. + +Hoddy Ringo.... + +Queer name, but in a galactic civilization, you find all sorts of names +and all sorts of people bearing them, so I was prepared for anything. + +And I found it. + +I found him standing with the ship's captain, inside the airlock, when I +boarded the big, spherical space-liner. A tubby little man, with +shoulders and arms he had never developed doing secretarial work, and a +good-natured, not particularly intelligent face. + +_See the happy moron, he doesn't give a damn_, I thought. + +Then I took a second look at him. He might be happy, but he wasn't a +moron. He just looked like one. Natalenko's people often did, as one of +their professional assets. + +I also noticed that he had a bulge under his left armpit the size of an +eleven-mm army automatic. + +He was, I'd been told, a native of New Texas. I gathered, after talking +with him for a while, that he had been away from his home planet for +over five years, was glad to be going back, and especially glad that he +was going back under the protection of Solar League diplomatic immunity. + +In fact, I rather got the impression that, without such protection, he +wouldn't have been going back at all. + +I made another discovery. My personal secretary, it seemed, couldn't +read stenotype. I found that out when I gave him the tape I'd dictated +aboard the cutter, to transcribe for me. + +"Gosh, boss. I can't make anything out of this stuff," he confessed, +looking at the combination shorthand-Braille that my voice had put onto +the tape. + +"Well, then, put it in a player and transcribe it by ear," I told him. + +He didn't seem to realize that that could be done. + +"How did you come to be sent as my secretary, if you can't do +secretarial work?" I wanted to know. + +He got out a bag of tobacco and a book of papers and began rolling a +cigarette, with one hand. + +"Why, shucks, boss, nobody seemed to think I'd have to do this kinda +work," he said. "I was just sent along to show you the way around New +Texas, and see you don't get inta no trouble." + +He got his handmade cigarette drawing, and hitched the strap that went +across his back and looped under his right arm. "A guy that don't know +the way around can get inta a lotta trouble on New Texas. If you call +gettin' killed trouble." + +So he was a bodyguard ... and I wondered what else he was. One thing, it +would take him forty-two years to send a radio message back to Luna, and +I could keep track of any other messages he sent, in letters or on tape, +by ships. In the end, I transcribed my own tape, and settled down to +laying out my three weeks' study-course on my new post. + +I found, however, that the whole thing could be learned in a few hours. +The rest of what I had was duplication, some of it contradictory, and it +all boiled down to this: + +Capella IV had been settled during the first wave of extrasolar +colonization, after the Fourth World--or First Interplanetary--War. +Some time around 2100. The settlers had come from a place in North +America called Texas, one of the old United States. They had a lengthy +history--independent republic, admission to the United States, secession +from the United States, reconquest by the United States, and general +intransigence under the United States, the United Nations and the Solar +League. When the laws of non-Einsteinian physics were discovered and the +hyperspace-drive was developed, practically the entire population of +Texas had taken to space to find a new home and independence from +everybody. + +They had found Capella IV, a Terra-type planet, with a slightly higher +mean temperature, a lower mass and lower gravitational field, about +one-quarter water and three-quarters land-surface, at a stage of +evolutionary development approximately that of Terra during the late +Pliocene. They also found supercow, a big mammal looking like the +unsuccessful attempt of a hippopotamus to impersonate a dachshund and +about the size of a nuclear-steam locomotive. On New Texas' plains, +there were billions of them; their meat was fit for the gods of Olympus. +So New Texas had become the meat-supplier to the galaxy. + +There was very little in any of the microfilm-books about the politics +of New Texas and such as it was, it was very scornful. There were such +expressions as 'anarchy tempered by assassination,' and 'grotesque +parody of democracy.' + +There would, I assumed, be more exact information in the material which +had been shoved into my hand just before boarding the cutter from Luna, +in a package labeled _TOP SECRET: TO BE OPENED ONLY IN SPACE, AFTER THE +FIRST HYPERJUMP._ There was also a big trunk that had been placed in my +suite, sealed and bearing the same instructions. + +I got Hoddy out of the suite as soon as the ship had passed out of the +normal space-time continuum, locked the door of my cabin and opened the +parcel. + +It contained only two loose-leaf notebooks, both labeled with the Solar +League and Department seals, both adorned with the customary +bloodthirsty threats against the unauthorized and the indiscreet. They +were numbered _ONE_ and _TWO_. + +_ONE_ contained four pages. On the first, I read: + + +_FINAL MESSAGE +OF THE FIRST SOLAR LEAGUE AMBASSADOR +TO +NEW TEXAS +ANDREW JACKSON HICKOCK_ + +_I agree with none of the so-called information about this planet on +file with the State Department on Luna. The people of New Texas are +certainly not uncouth barbarians. Their manners and customs, while +lively and unconventional, are most charming. Their dress is graceful +and practical, not grotesque; their soft speech is pleasing to the ear. +Their flag is the original flag of the Republic of Texas; it is +definitely not a barbaric travesty of our own emblem. And the underlying +premises of their political system should, as far as possible, be +incorporated into the organization of the Solar League. Here politics is +an exciting and exacting game, in which only the true representative of +all the people can survive._ + + +_DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM_ + +_After five years on New Texas, Andrew Jackson Hickock resigned, married +a daughter of a local rancher and became a naturalized citizen of that +planet. He is still active in politics there, often in opposition to +Solar League policies._ + + +That didn't sound like too bad an advertisement for the planet. I was +even feeling cheerful when I turned to the next page, and: + + +_FINAL MESSAGE +OF THE SECOND SOLAR LEAGUE +AMBASSADOR TO +NEW TEXAS +CYRIL GODWINSON_ + +_Yes and no; perhaps and perhaps not; pardon me; I agree with everything +you say. Yes and no; perhaps and perhaps not; pardon me; I agree..._ + + +_DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM_ + + +_After seven years on New Texas, Ambassador Godwinson was recalled; +adjudged hopelessly insane._ + +And then: + + +_FINAL MESSAGE +OF THE THIRD SOLAR LEAGUE +AMBASSADOR TO NEW TEXAS +R. F. GULLIS_ + +_I find it very pleasant to inform you that when you are reading this, I +will be dead._ + + +_DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM_ + +_Committed suicide after six months on New Texas._ + + +I turned to the last page cautiously, found: + + +_FINAL MESSAGE +OF THE FOURTH SOLAR LEAGUE +AMBASSADOR TO NEW TEXAS +SILAS CUMSHAW_ + +_I came to this planet ten years ago as a man of pronounced and +outspoken convictions. I have managed to keep myself alive here by +becoming an inoffensive nonentity. If I continue in this course, it will +be only at the cost of my self-respect. Beginning tonight, I am going to +state and maintain positive opinions on the relation between this planet +and the Solar League._ + + +_DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM_ + +_Murdered at the home of Andrew J. Hickcock. (see p. 1.)_ + + +And that was the end of the first notebook. Nice, cheerful reading; +complete, solid briefing. + +I was, frankly, almost afraid to open the second notebook. I hefted it +cautiously at first, saw that it contained only about as many pages as +the first and that those pages were sealed with a band around them. + +I took a quick peek, read the words on the band: + +_Before reading, open the sealed trunk which has been included with your +luggage._ + +So I laid aside the book and dragged out the sealed trunk, hesitated, +then opened it. + +Nothing shocked me more than to find the trunk ... full of clothes. + +There were four pairs of trousers, light blue, dark blue, gray and +black, with wide cuffs at the bottoms. There were six or eight shirts, +their colors running the entire spectrum in the most violent shades. +There were a couple of vests. There were two pairs of short boots with +high heels and fancy leather-working, and a couple of hats with +four-inch brims. + +And there was a wide leather belt, practically a leather corset. + +I stared at the belt, wondering if I was really seeing what was in front +of me. + +Attached to the belt were a pair of pistols in right- and left-hand +holsters. The pistols were seven-mm Krupp-Tatta Ultraspeed automatics, +and the holsters were the spring-ejection, quick-draw holsters which +were the secret of the State Department Special Services. + +_This must be a mistake_, I thought. _I'm an Ambassador now and +Ambassadors never carry weapons._ + +The sanctity of an Ambassador's person not only made the carrying of +weapons unnecessary, so that an armed Ambassador was a contradiction of +diplomatic terms, but it would be an outrageous insult to the nation to +which he had been accredited. + +Like taking a poison-taster to a friendly dinner. + +Maybe I was supposed to give the belt and the holsters to Hoddy +Ringo.... + +So I tore the sealed band off the second notebook and read through it. + +I was to wear the local costume on New Texas. That was something +unusual; even in the Hooligan Diplomats, we leaned over backward in +wearing Terran costume to distinguish ourselves from the people among +whom we worked. + +I was further advised to start wearing the high boots immediately, on +shipboard, to accustom myself to the heels. These, I was informed, were +traditional. They had served a useful purpose, in the early days on +Terran Texas, when all travel had been on horseback. On horseless and +mechanized New Texas, they were a useless but venerated part of the +cultural heritage. + +There were bits of advice about the hat, and the trousers, which for +some obscure reason were known as Levis. And I was informed, as an +order, that I was to wear the belt and the pistols at all times outside +the Embassy itself. + +That was all of the second notebook. + +The two notebooks, plus my conversation with Ghopal, Klüng and +Natalenko, completed my briefing for my new post. + +I slid off my shoes and pulled on a pair of boots. They fitted +perfectly. Evidently I had been tapped for this job as soon as word of +Silas Cumshaw's death had reached Luna and there must have been some +fantastic hurrying to get my outfit ready. + +I didn't like that any too well, and I liked the order to carry the +pistols even less. Not that I had any objection to carrying weapons, +_per se_: I had been born and raised on Theta Virgo IV, where the +children aren't allowed outside the house unattended until they've +learned to shoot. + +But I did have strenuous objections to being sent, virtually ignorant of +local customs, on a mission where I was ordered to commit deliberate +provocation of the local government, immediately on the heels of my +predecessor's violent death. + +The author of _Probable Future Courses of Solar League Diplomacy_ had +recommended the use of provocation to justify conquest. If the New +Texans murdered two Solar League Ambassadors in a row, nobody would +blame the League for moving in with a space-fleet and an army.... + +I was beginning to understand how Doctor Guillotin must have felt while +his neck was being shoved into his own invention. + +I looked again at the notebooks, each marked in red: _Familiarize +yourself with contents and burn or disintegrate._ + +I'd have to do that, of course. There were a few non-humans and a lot of +non-League people aboard this ship. I couldn't let any of them find out +what we considered a full briefing for a new Ambassador. + +So I wrapped them in the original package and went down to the lower +passenger zone, where I found the ship's third officer. I told him that +I had some secret diplomatic matter to be destroyed and he took me to +the engine room. I shoved the package into one of the mass-energy +convertors and watched it resolve itself into its constituent protons, +neutrons and electrons. + +On the way back, I stopped in at the ship's bar. + +Hoddy Ringo was there, wrapped up in--and I use the words literally--a +young lady from the Alderbaran system. She was on her way home from one +of the quickie divorce courts on Terra and was celebrating her marital +emancipation. They were so entangled with each other that they didn't +notice me. When they left the bar, I slipped after them until I saw them +enter the lady's stateroom. That, of course, would have Hoddy +immobilized--better word, located--for a while. So I went back to our +suite, picked the lock of Hoddy's room, and allowed myself half an hour +to search his luggage. + +All of his clothes were new, but there were not a great many of them. +Evidently he was planning to re-outfit himself on New Texas. There were +a few odds and ends, the kind any man with a real home planet will hold +on to, in the luggage. + +He had another eleven-mm pistol, made by Consolidated-Martian +Metalworks, mate to the one he was carrying in a shoulder-holster, and a +wide two-holster belt like the one furnished me, but quite old. + +I greeted the sight and the meaning of the old holsters with joy: they +weren't the State Department Special Services type. That meant that +Hoddy was just one of Natalenko's run-of-the-gallows cutthroats, not +important enough to be issued the secret equipment. + +But I was a little worried over what I found hidden in the lining of one +of his bags, a letter addressed to Space-Commander Lucius C. Stonehenge, +Aggression Department Attaché, New Austin Embassy. I didn't have either +the time or the equipment to open it. But, knowing our various Departments, +I tried to reassure myself with the thought that it was only a +letter-of-credence, with the real message to be delivered orally. + +About the real message I had no doubts: _arrange the murder of +Ambassador Stephen Silk in such a way that it looks like another New +Texan job...._ + + +Starting that evening--or what passed for evening aboard a ship in +hyperspace--Hoddy and I began a positively epochal binge together. + +I had it figured this way: as long as we were on board ship, I was +perfectly safe. On the ship, in fact, Hoddy would definitely have given +his life to save mine. I'd have to be killed on New Texas to give +Klüng's boys their excuse for moving in. + +And there was always the chance, with no chance too slender for me to +ignore, that I might be able to get Hoddy drunk enough to talk, yet +still be sober enough myself to remember what he said. + +Exact times, details, faces, names, came to me through a sort of hazy +blur as Hoddy and I drank something he called superbourbon--a New Texan +drink that Bourbon County, Kentucky, would never have recognized. They +had no corn on New Texas. This stuff was made out of something called +superyams. + +There were at least two things I got out of the binge. First, I learned +to slug down the national drink without batting an eye. Second, I +learned to control my expression as I uncovered the fact that everything +on New Texas was supersomething. + +I was also cautious enough, before we really got started, to leave my +belt and guns with the purser. I didn't want Hoddy poking around those +secret holsters. And I remember telling the captain to radio New Austin +as soon as we came out of our last hyperspace-jump, then to send the +ship's doctor around to give me my hangover treatments. + +But the one thing I wanted to remember, as the hangover shots brought me +back to normal life, I found was the one thing I couldn't remember. What +was the name of that girl--a big, beautiful blond--who joined the party +along with Hoddy's grass widow from Alderbaran and stayed with it to the +end? + +Damn, I wished I could remember her name! + + +When we were fifteen thousand miles off-planet and the lighters from New +Austin spaceport were reported on the way, I got into the skin-tight +Levis, the cataclysmic-colored shirt, and the loose vest, tucked my big +hat under my arm, and went to the purser's office for my guns, buckling +them on. When I got back to the suite, Hoddy had put on his pistols and +was practicing quick draws in front of the mirror. He took one look at +my armament and groaned. + +"You're gonna get yourself killed for sure, with that rig, an' them +popguns," he told me. + +"These popguns'll shoot harder and make bigger holes than that pair of +museum-pieces you're carrying," I replied. + +"An' them holsters!" Hoddy continued. "Why, it'd take all day to get +your guns outa them! You better let me find you a real rig, when we get +to New Austin...." + +There was a chance, of course, that he knew what I was using and wanted +to hide his knowledge. I doubted that. + +"Sure, you State Department guys always know everything," he went on. +"Like them microfilm-books you was readin'. I try to tell you what +things is really like on New Texas, an' you let it go in one ear an' out +the other." + +Then he wandered off to say good-bye to the grass widow from Alderbaran, +leaving me to make the last-minute check on the luggage. I was hoping +I'd be able to see that blond ... what _was_ her name; Gail +something-or-other. Let's see, she'd been at some Terran university, and +she was on her way home to ... to New Texas! Of course! + + +I saw her, half an hour later, in the crowd around the airlock when the +lighters came alongside, and I tried to push my way toward her. As I +did, the airlock opened, the crowd surged toward it, and she was carried +along. Then the airlock closed, after she had passed through and before +I could get to it. That meant I'd have to wait for the second lighter. + +So I made the best of it, and spent the next half-hour watching the disc +of the planet grow into a huge ball that filled the lower half of the +viewscreen and then lose its curvature, and instead of moving in toward +the planet, we were going down toward it. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +New Austin spaceport was a huge place, a good fifty miles outside the +city. As we descended, I could see that it was laid out like a wheel, +with the landings and the blast-off stands around the hub, and high +buildings--packing houses and refrigeration plants--along the many +spokes. It showed a technological level quite out of keeping with the +accounts I had read, or the stories Hoddy had told, about the simple +ranch life of the planet. Might be foreign capital invested there, and I +made a mental note to find out whose. + +On the other hand, Old Texas, on Terra, had been heavily industrialized; +so much so that the state itself could handle the gigantic project of +building enough spaceships to move almost the whole population into +space. + +Then the landing-field was rushing up at us, with the nearer ends of the +roadways and streets drawing close and the far ends lengthening out away +from us. The other lighter was already down, and I could see a crowd +around it. + +There was a crowd waiting for us when we got out and went down the +escalators to the ground, and as I had expected, a special group of men +waiting for me. They were headed by a tall, slender individual in the +short black Eisenhower jacket, gray-striped trousers and black homburg +that was the uniform of the Diplomatic Service, alias the Cookie +Pushers. + +Over their heads at the other rocket-boat, I could see the gold-gleaming +head of the girl I'd met on the ship. + +I tried to push through the crowd and get to her. As I did, the Cookie +Pusher got in my way. + +"Mr. Silk! Mr. Ambassador! Here we are!" he was clamoring. "The car for +the Embassy is right over here!" He clutched my elbow. "You have no idea +how glad we all are to see you, Mr. Ambassador!" + +"Yes, yes; of course. Now, there's somebody over there I +have to see, at once." I tried to pull myself loose from his grasp. + +Across the concrete between the two lighters, I could see the girl push +out of the crowd around her and wave a hand to me. I tried to yell to +her; but just then another lighter, loaded with freight, started to lift +out at another nearby stand, with the roar of half a dozen Niagaras. The +thin man in the striped trousers added to the uproar by shouting into my +ear and pulling at me. + +"We haven't time!" he finally managed to make himself heard. "We're +dreadfully late now, sir! You must come with us." + +Hoddy, too, had caught hold of me by the other arm. + +"Come on, boss. There's gotta be some reason why he's got himself in an +uproar about whatever it is. You'll see her again." + +Then, the whole gang--Hoddy, the thin man with the black homburg, his +younger accomplice in identical garb, and the chauffeur--all closed in +on me and pushed me, pulled me, half-carried me, fifty yards across the +concrete to where their air-car was parked. By this time, the tall +blond had gotten clear of the mob around her and was waving frantically +at me. I tried to wave back, but I was literally crammed into the car +and flung down on the seat. At the same time, the chauffeur was jumping +in, extending the car's wings, jetting up. + +"Great God!" I bellowed. "This is the damnedest piece of impudence I've +ever had to suffer from any subordinates in my whole State Department +experience! I want an explanation out of you, and it'd better be a good +one!" + +There was a deafening silence in the car for a moment. The thin man +moved himself off my lap, then sat there looking at me with the +heartbroken eyes of a friendly dog that had just been kicked for +something which wasn't really its fault. + +"Mr. Ambassador, you can't imagine how sorry we all are, but if we +hadn't gotten you away from the spaceport and to the Embassy at once, we +would all have been much sorrier." + +"Somebody here gunnin' for the Ambassador?" Hoddy demanded sharply. + +"Oh, no! I hadn't even thought of that," the thin man almost gibbered. +"But your presence at the Embassy is of immediate and urgent necessity. +You have no idea of the state into which things have gotten.... Oh, +pardon me, Mr. Ambassador. I am Gilbert W. Thrombley, your chargé +d'affaires." I shook hands with him. "And Mr. Benito Gomez, the +Secretary of the Embassy." I shook hands with him, too, and started to +introduce Mr. Hoddy Ringo. + +Hoddy, however, had turned to look out the rear window; immediately, he +gave a yelp. + +"We got a tail, boss! Two of them! Look back there!" + +There were two black eight-passenger aircars, of the same model, +whizzing after us, making an obvious effort to overtake us. The +chauffeur cursed and fired his auxiliary jets, then his rocket-booster. + +Immediately, black rocket-fuel puffs shot away from the pursuing +aircars. + +Hoddy turned in his seat, cranked open a porthole-slit in the window, +and poked one of his eleven-mm's out, letting the whole clip go. +Thrombley and Gomez slid down onto the floor, and both began trying to +drag me down with them, imploring me not to expose myself. + +As far as I could see, there was nothing to expose myself to. The other +cars kept coming, but neither of them were firing at us. There was also +no indication that Hoddy's salvo had had any effect on them. Our +chauffeur went into a perfect frenzy of twisting and dodging, at the +same time using his radiophone to tell somebody to get the goddamn +gate open in a hurry. I saw the blue skies and green plains of New +Texas replacing one another above, under, in front of and behind us. +Then the car set down on a broad stretch of concrete, the wings were +retracted, and we went whizzing down a city street. + +We whizzed down a number of streets. We cut corners on two wheels, and +on one wheel, and, I was prepared to swear, on no wheels. A couple of +times, with the wings retracted, we actually jetted into the air and +jumped over vehicles in front of us, landing again with bone-shaking +jolts. Then we made an abrupt turn and shot in under a concrete arch, +and a big door banged shut behind us, and we stopped, in the middle of a +wide patio, the front of the car a few inches short of a fountain. Four +or five people, in diplomatic striped trousers, local dress and the +uniform of the Space Marines, came running over. + +Thrombley pulled himself erect and half-climbed, half-fell, out of the +car. Gomez got out on the other side with Hoddy; I climbed out after +Thrombley. + +A tall, sandy-haired man in the uniform of the Space Navy came over. + +"What the devil's the matter, Thrombley?" he demanded. Then, seeing me, +he gave me as much of a salute as a naval officer will ever bestow on +anybody in civilian clothes. + +"Mr. Silk?" He looked at my costume and the pistols on my belt in +well-bred concealment of surprise. "I'm your military attaché, +Stonehenge; Space-Commander, Space Navy." + +I noticed that Hoddy's ears had pricked up, but he wasn't making any +effort to attract Stonehenge's attention. I shook hands with him, +introduced Hoddy, and offered my cigarette case around. + +"You seem to have had a hectic trip from the spaceport, Mr. Ambassador. +What happened?" + +Thrombley began accusing our driver of trying to murder the lot of us. +Hoddy brushed him aside and explained: + +"Just after we'd took off, two other cars took off after us. We speeded +up, and they speeded up, too. Then your fly-boy, here, got fancy. That +shook 'em off. Time we got into the city, we'd dropped them. Nice job of +driving. Probably saved our lives." + +"Shucks, that wasn't nothin'," the driver disclaimed. "When you drive +for politicians, you're either good or you're good and dead." + +"I'm surprised they started so soon," Stonehenge said. Then he looked +around at my fellow-passengers, who seemed to have realized, by now, +that they were no longer dangling by their fingernails over the brink of +the grave. "But gentlemen, let's not keep the Ambassador standing out +here in the hot sun." + +So we went over the arches at the side of the patio, and were about to +sit down when one of the Embassy servants came up, followed by a man in +a loose vest and blue Levis and a big hat. He had a pair of automatics +in his belt, too. + +"I'm Captain Nelson; New Texas Rangers," he introduced himself. "Which +one of you-all is Mr. Stephen Silk?" + +I admitted it. + +The Ranger pushed back his wide hat and grinned at me. + +"I just can't figure this out," he said. "You're in the right place and +the right company, but we got a report, from a mighty good source, that +you'd been kidnapped at the spaceport by a gang of thugs!" + +"A blond source?" I made curving motions with my hands. "I don't blame +her. My efficient and conscientious chargé d'affaires, Mr. Thrombley, +felt that I should reach the Embassy, here, as soon as possible, and +from where she was standing, it must have looked like a kidnapping. +Fact is, it looked like one from where I was standing, too. +Was that you and your people who were chasing us? Then I must apologize +for opening fire on you ... I hope nobody was hurt." + +"No, our cars are pretty well armored. You scored a couple of times on +one of them, but no harm done. I reckon after what happened to Silas +Cumshaw, you had a right to be suspicious." + +I noticed that refreshments, including several bottles, had been placed +on a big wicker table under the arched veranda. + +"Can I offer you a drink, Captain, in token of mutual amity?" I asked. + +"Well, now, I'd like to, Mr. Ambassador, but I'm on duty ..." he began. + +"You can't be. You're an officer of the Planetary Government of New +Texas, and in this Embassy, you're in the territory of the Solar +League." + +"That's right, now, Mr. Ambassador," he grinned. "Extraterritoriality. +Wonderful thing, extraterritoriality." He looked at Hoddy, who, for the +first time since I had met him, was trying to shrink into the +background. "And diplomatic immunity, too. Ain't it, Hoddy?" + +After he had had his drink and departed, we all sat down. Thrombley +began speaking almost at once. + +"Mr. Ambassador, you must, you simply must, issue a public statement, +immediately, sir. Only a public statement, issued promptly, will relieve +the crisis into which we have all been thrust." + +"Oh, come, Mr. Thrombley," I objected. "Captain Nelson'll take care of +all that in his report to his superiors." + +Thrombley looked at me for a moment as though I had been speaking to +him in Hottentot, then waved his hands in polite exasperation. + +"Oh, no, no! I don't mean that, sir. I mean a public statement to the +effect that you have assumed full responsibility for the Embassy. Where +is that thing? Mr. Gomez!" + +Gomez gave him four or five sheets, stapled together. He laid them on +the table, turned to the last sheet, and whipped out a pen. + +"Here, sir; just sign here." + +"Are you crazy?" I demanded. "I'll be damned if I'll sign that. Not till +I've taken an inventory of the physical property of the Embassy, and +familiarized myself with all its commitments, and had the books audited +by some firm of certified public accountants." + +Thrombley and Gomez looked at one another. They both groaned. + +"But we must have a statement of assumption of responsibility ..." Gomez +dithered. + +"... or the business of the Embassy will be at a dead stop, and we can't +do anything," Thrombley finished. + +"Wait a moment, Thrombley," Stonehenge cut in. "I understand Mr. Silk's +attitude. I've taken command of a good many ships and installations, at +one time or another, and I've never signed for anything I couldn't see +and feel and count. I know men who retired as brigadier generals or +vice-admirals, but they retired loaded with debts incurred because as +second lieutenants or ensigns they forgot that simple rule." + +He turned to me. "Without any disrespect to the chargé d'affaires, Mr. +Silk, this Embassy has been pretty badly disorganized since Mr. +Cumshaw's death. No one felt authorized, or, to put it more accurately, +no one dared, to declare himself acting head of the Embassy--" + +"Because that would make him the next target?" I interrupted. "Well, +that's what I was sent here for. Mr. Gomez, as Secretary of the Embassy, +will you please, at once, prepare a statement for the press and telecast +release to the effect that I am now the authorized head of this Embassy, +responsible from this hour for all its future policies and all its +present commitments insofar as they obligate the government of the Solar +League. Get that out at once. Tomorrow, I will present my credentials to +the Secretary of State here. Thereafter, Mr. Thrombley, you can rest in +the assurance that I'll be the one they'll be shooting at." + +"But you can't wait that long, Mr. Ambassador," Thrombley almost wailed. +"We must go immediately to the Statehouse. The reception for you is +already going on." + +I looked at my watch, which had been regulated aboard ship for Capella +IV time. It was just 1315. + +"What time do they hold diplomatic receptions on this planet, Mr. +Thrombley?" I asked. + +"Oh, any time at all, sir. This one started about 0900 when the news +that the ship was in orbit off-planet got in. It'll be a barbecue, of +course, and--" + +"Barbecued supercow! Yipeee!" Hoddy yelled. "What I been waitin' for for +five years!" + +It would be the vilest cruelty not to take him along, I thought. And it +would also keep him and Stonehenge apart for a while. + +"But we must hurry, Mr. Ambassador," Thrombley was saying. "If you will +change, now, to formal dress ..." + +And he was looking at me, gasping. I think it was the first time he had +actually seen what I was wearing. + +"In native dress, Mr. Ambassador!" + +Thrombley's eyes and tone were again those of an innocent spaniel caught +in the middle of a marital argument. + +Then his gaze fell to my belt and his eyes became saucers. "Oh, dear! +And armed!" + +My chargé d'affaires was shuddering and he could not look directly at +me. + +"Mr. Ambassador, I understand that you were recently appointed from the +Consular Service. I sincerely hope that you will not take it amiss if I +point out, here in private, that--" + +"Mr. Thrombley, I am wearing this costume and these pistols on the +direct order of Secretary of State Ghopal Singh." + +That set him back on his heels. + +"I ... I can't believe it!" he exclaimed. "An ambassador is _never_ +armed." + +"Not when he's dealing with a government which respects the comity of +nations and the usages of diplomatic practice, no," I replied. "But the +fate of Mr. Cumshaw clearly indicates that the government of New Texas +is not such a government. These pistols are in the nature of a +not-too-subtle hint of the manner in which this government, here, is +being regarded by the government of the Solar League." I turned to +Stonehenge. "Commander, what sort of an Embassy guard have we?" I asked. + +"Space Marines, sergeant and five men. I double as guard officer, sir." + +"Very well. Mr. Thrombley insists that it is necessary for me to go to +this fish-fry or whatever it is immediately. I want two men, a driver +and an auto-rifleman, for my car. And from now on, I would suggest, +Commander, that you wear your sidearm at all times outside the Embassy." + +"Yes, sir!" and this time, Stonehenge gave me a real salute. + +"Well, I must phone the Statehouse, then," Thrombley said. "We will have +to call on Secretary of State Palme, and then on President Hutchinson." + +With that, he got up, excused himself, motioned Gomez to follow, and +hurried away. + +I got up, too, and motioned Stonehenge aside. + +"Aboard ship, coming in, I was told that there's a task force of the +Space Navy on maneuvers about five light-years from here," I said. + +"Yes, sir. Task Force Red-Blue-Green, Fifth Space Fleet. Fleet Admiral +Sir Rodney Tregaskis." + +"Can we get hold of a fast space-boat, with hyperdrive engines, in a +hurry?" + +"Eight or ten of them always around New Austin spaceport, available for +charter." + +"All right; charter one and get out to that fleet. Tell Admiral +Tregaskis that the Ambassador at New Austin feels in need of protection; +possibility of z'Srauff invasion. I'll give you written orders. I want +the Fleet within radio call. How far out would that be, with our +facilities?" + +"The Embassy radio isn't reliable beyond about sixty light-minutes, +sir." + +"Then tell Sir Rodney to bring his fleet in that close. The invasion, if +it comes, will probably not come from the direction of the z'Srauff +star-cluster; they'll probably jump past us and move in from the other +side. I hope you don't think I'm having nightmares, Commander. Danger of +a z'Srauff invasion was pointed out to me by persons on the very highest +level, on Luna." + +Stonehenge nodded. "I'm always having the same kind of nightmares, sir. +Especially since this special envoy arrived here, ostensibly to +negotiate a meteor-mining treaty." He hesitated for a moment. "We don't +want the New Texans to know, of course, that you've sent for the fleet?" + +"Naturally not." + +"Well, if I can wait till about midnight before I leave, I can get a +boat owned, manned and operated by Solar League people. The boat's a +dreadful-looking old tub, but she's sound and fast. The gang who own her +are pretty notorious characters--suspected of smuggling, piracy, and +what not--but they'll keep their mouths shut if well paid." + +"Then pay them well," I said. "And it's just as well you're not leaving +at once. When I get back from this clambake, I'll want to have a general +informal council, and I certainly want you in on it." + +On the way to the Statehouse in the aircar, I kept wondering just how +smart I had been. + +I was pretty sure that the z'Srauff was getting ready for a sneak attack +on New Texas, and, as Solar League Ambassador, I of course had the right +to call on the Space Navy for any amount of armed protection. + +Sending Stonehenge off on what couldn't be less than an eighteen-hour +trip would delay anything he and Hoddy might be cooking up, too. + +On the other hand, with the fleet so near, they might decide to have me +rubbed out in a hurry, to justify seizing the planet ahead of the +z'Srauff. + +I was in that pleasant spot called, "Damned if you do and damned if you +don't...." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +The Statehouse appeared to cover about a square mile of ground and it +was an insane jumble of buildings piled beside and on top of one +another, as though it had been in continuous construction ever since the +planet was colonized, eighty-odd years before. + +At what looked like one of the main entrances, the car stopped. I told +our Marine driver and auto-rifleman to park the car and take in the +barbecue, but to leave word with the doorman where they could be found. +Hoddy, Thrombley and I then went in, to be met by a couple of New Texas +Rangers, one of them the officer who had called at the Embassy. They +guided us to the office of the Secretary of State. + +"We're dreadfully late," Thrombley was fretting. "I do hope we haven't +kept the Secretary waiting too long." + +From the looks of him, I was afraid we had. He jumped up from his desk +and hurried across the room as soon as the receptionist opened the door +for us, his hand extended. + +"Good afternoon, Mr. Thrombley," he burbled nervously. "And this is the +new Ambassador, I suppose. And this--" He caught sight of Hoddy Ringo, +bringing up the rear and stopped short, hand flying to open mouth. "Oh, +dear me!" + +So far, I had been building myself a New Texas stereotype from Hoddy +Ringo and the Ranger officer who had chased us to the Embassy. But this +frightened little rabbit of a fellow simply didn't fit it. An alien +would be justified in assigning him to an entirely different species. + +Thrombley introduced me. I introduced Hoddy as my confidential secretary +and advisor. We all shook hands, and Thrombley dug my credentials out of +his briefcase and handed them to me, and I handed them to the Secretary +of State, Mr. William A. Palme. He barely glanced at them, then shook my +hand again fervently and mumbled something about "inexpressible +pleasure" and "entirely acceptable to my government." + +That made me the accredited and accepted Ambassador to New Texas. + +Mr. Palme hoped, or said he hoped, that my stay in New Texas would be +long and pleasant. He seemed rather less than convinced that it would +be. His eyes kept returning in horrified fascination to my belt. Each +time they would focus on the butts of my Krupp-Tattas, he would pull +them resolutely away again. + +"And now, we must take you to President Hutchinson; he is most anxious +to meet you, Mr. Silk. If you will please come with me ..." + +Four or five Rangers who had been loitering the hall outside moved to +follow us as we went toward the elevator. Although we had come into the +building onto a floor only a few feet above street-level, we went down +three floors from the hallway outside the Secretary of State's office, +into a huge room, the concrete floor of which was oil-stained, as +though vehicles were continually being driven in and out. It was about a +hundred feet wide, and two or three hundred in length. Daylight was +visible through open doors at the end. As we approached them, the +Rangers fanning out on either side and in front of us, I could hear a +perfect bedlam of noise outside--shouting, singing, dance-band music, +interspersed with the banging of shots. + +When we reached the doors at the end, we emerged into one end of a big +rectangular plaza, at least five hundred yards in length. Most of the +uproar was centered at the opposite end, where several thousand people, +in costumes colored through the whole spectrum, were milling about. +There seemed to be at least two square-dances going on, to the music of +competing bands. At the distant end of the plaza, over the heads of the +crowd, I could see the piles and tracks of an overhead crane, towering +above what looked like an open-hearth furnace. Between us and the bulk +of the crowd, in a cleared space, two medium tanks, heavily padded with +mats, were ramming and trying to overturn each other, the mob of +spectators crowding as close to them as they dared. The din was +positively deafening, though we were at least two hundred yards from the +center of the crowd. + +"Oh, dear, I always dread these things!" Palme was saying. + +"Yes, absolutely anything could happen," Thrombley twittered. + +"Man, this is a real barbecue!" Hoddy gloated. "Now I really feel at +home!" + +"Over this way, Mr. Silk," Palme said, guiding me toward the short end +of the plaza, on our left. "We will see the President and then ..." + +He gulped. + +"... then we will all go to the barbecue." + +In the center of the short end of the plaza, dwarfed by the monster +bulks of steel and concrete and glass around it, stood a little old +building of warm-tinted adobe. I had never seen it before, but somehow +it was familiar-looking. And then I remembered. Although I had never +seen it before, I had seen it pictured many times; pictured under +attack, with gunsmoke spouting from windows and parapets. + +I plucked Thrombley's sleeve. + +"Isn't that a replica of the Alamo?" + +He was shocked. "Oh, dear, Mr. Ambassador, don't let anybody hear you +ask that. That's no replica. It _is_ the Alamo. _The_ Alamo." + +I stood there a moment, looking at it. I was remembering, and finally +understanding, what my psycho-history lessons about the "Romantic +Freeze" had meant. + +_They had taken this little mission-fort down, brick by adobe brick, +loaded it carefully into a spaceship, brought it here, forty two +light-years away from Terra, and reverently set it up again. Then they +had built a whole world and a whole social philosophy around it_. + +It had been the dissatisfied, of course, the discontented, the dreamers, +who had led the vanguard of man's explosion into space following the +discovery of the hyperspace-drive. They had gone from Terra cherishing +dreams of things that had been dumped into the dust bin of history, +carrying with them pictures of ways of life that had passed away, or +that had never really been. Then, in their new life, on new planets, +they had set to work making those dreams and those pictures live. + +And, many times, they had come close to succeeding. + +These Texans, now: they had left behind the cold fact that it had been +their state's great industrial complex that had made their migration +possible. They ignored the fact that their life here on Capella IV was +possible only by application of modern industrial technology. That rodeo +down the plaza--tank-tilting instead of bronco-busting. Here they were, +living frozen in a romantic dream, a world of roving cowboys and ranch +kingdoms. + +No wonder Hoddy hadn't liked the books I had been reading on the ship. +They shook the fabric of that dream. + +There were people moving about, at this relatively quiet end of the +plaza, mostly in the direction of the barbecue. Ten or twelve Rangers +loitered at the front of the Alamo, and with them I saw the dress blues +of my two Marines. There was a little three-wheeled motorcart among +them, from which they were helping themselves to food and drink. When +they saw us coming, the two Marines shoved their sandwiches into the +hands of a couple of Rangers and tried to come to attention. + +"At ease, at ease," I told them. "Have a good time, boys. Hoddy, you +better get in on some of this grub; I may be inside for quite a while." + +As soon as the Rangers saw Hoddy, they hastily got things out of their +right hands. Hoddy grinned at them. + +"Take it easy, boys," he said. "I'm protected by the game laws. I'm a +diplomat, I am." + +There were a couple of Rangers lounging outside the door of the +President's office and both of them carried autorifles, implying things +I didn't like. + +I had seen the President of the Solar League wandering around the +dome-city of Artemis unattended, looking for all the world like a +professor in his academic halls. Since then, maybe before then, I had +always had a healthy suspicion of governments whose chiefs had to +surround themselves with bodyguards. + +But the President of New Texas, John Hutchinson, was alone in his office +when we were shown in. He got up and came around his desk to greet us, a +slender, stoop-shouldered man in a black-and-gold laced jacket. He had a +narrow compressed mouth and eyes that seemed to be watching every corner +of the room at once. He wore a pair of small pistols in cross-body +holsters under his coat, and he always kept one hand or the other close +to his abdomen. + +He was like, and yet unlike, the Secretary of State. Both had the look +of hunted animals; but where Palme was a rabbit, twitching to take +flight at the first whiff of danger, Hutchinson was a cat who hears +hounds baying--ready to run if he could, or claw if he must. + +"Good day, Mr. Silk," he said, shaking hands with me after the +introductions. "I see you're heeled; you're smart. You wouldn't be here +today if poor Silas Cumshaw'd been as smart as you are. Great man, +though; a wise and farseeing statesman. He and I were real friends." + +"You know who Mr. Silk brought with him as bodyguard?" Palme asked. +"Hoddy Ringo!" + +"Oh, my God! I thought this planet was rid of him!" The President turned +to me. "You got a good trigger-man, though, Mr. Ambassador. Good man to +watch your back for you. But lot of folks here won't thank you for +bringing him back to New Texas." + +He looked at his watch. "We have time for a little drink, before we go +outside, Mr. Silk," he said. "Care to join me?" + +I assented and he got a bottle of superbourbon out of his desk, with +four glasses. Palme got some water tumblers and brought the pitcher of +ice-water from the cooler. + +I noticed that the New Texas Secretary of State filled his three-ounce +liquor glass to the top and gulped it down at once. He might act as +though he were descended from a long line of maiden aunts, but he took +his liquor in blasts that would have floored a spaceport labor-boss. + +We had another drink, a little slower, and chatted for a while, and then +Hutchinson said, regretfully that we'd have to go outside and meet the +folks. Outside, our guards--Hoddy, the two Marines, the Rangers who had +escorted us from Palme's office, and Hutchinson's retinue--surrounded +us, and we made our way down the plaza, through the crowd. The +din--ear-piercing yells, whistles, cowbells, pistol shots, the cacophony +of the two dance-bands, and the chorus-singing, of which I caught only +the words: _The skies of freedom are above you!_--was as bad as New +Year's Eve in Manhattan or Nairobi or New Moscow, on Terra. + +"Don't take all this as a personal tribute, Mr. Silk!" Hutchinson +screamed into my ear. "On this planet, to paraphrase Nietzsche, a good +barbecue halloweth any cause!" + +That surprised me, at the moment. Later I found out that John Hutchinson +was one of the leading scholars on New Texas and had once been president +of one of their universities. New Texas Christian, I believe. + +As we got up onto the platform, close enough to the barbecue pits to +feel the heat from them, somebody let off what sounded like a fifty-mm +anti-tank gun five or six times. Hutchinson grabbed a microphone and +bellowed into it: "Ladies and gentlemen! Your attention, please!" + +The noise began to diminish, slowly, until I could hear one voice, in +the crowd below: + +"Shut up, you damn fools! We can't eat till this is over!" + +Hutchinson introduced me, in very few words. I gathered that lengthy +speeches at barbecues were not popular on New Texas. + +"Ladies and gentlemen!" I yelled into the microphone. "Appreciative as I +am of this honor, there is one here who is more deserving of your notice +than I; one to whom I, also, pay homage. He's over there on the fire, +and I want a slice of him as soon as possible!" + +That got a big ovation. There was, beside the water pitcher, a bottle of +superbourbon. I ostentatiously threw the water out of the glass, poured +a big shot of the corrosive stuff, and downed it. + +"For God's sake, let's eat!" I finished. Then I turned to Thrombley, who +was looking like a priest who has just seen the bishop spit in the +holy-water font. "Stick close to me," I whispered. "Cue me in on the +local notables, and the other members of the Diplomatic Corps." Then we +all got down off the platform, and a band climbed up and began playing +one of those raucous "cowboy ballads" which had originated in Manhattan +about the middle of the Twentieth Century. + +"The sandwiches'll be here in a moment, Mr. Ambassador," Hutchinson +screamed--in effect, whispered--in my ear. "Don't feel any reluctance +about shaking hands with a sandwich in your other hand; that's standard +practice, here. You struck just the right note, up there. That business +with the liquor was positively inspired!" + +The sandwiches--huge masses of meat and hot relish, wrapped in tortillas +of some sort--arrived and I bit into one. + +I'd been eating supercow all my life, frozen or electron-beamed for +transportation, and now I was discovering that I had never really eaten +supercow before. I finished the first sandwich in surprisingly short +order and was starting on my second when the crowd began coming. + +First, the Diplomatic Corps, the usual collection of weirdies, human and +otherwise.... + +There was the Ambassador from Tara, in a suit of what his planet +produced as a substitute for Irish homespuns. His Embassy, if it was +like the others I had seen elsewhere, would be an outsize cottage with +whitewashed walls and a thatched roof, with a bowl of milk outside the +door for the Little People ... + +The Ambassador from Alpheratz II, the South African Nationalist planet, +with a full beard, and old fashioned plug hat and tail-coat. They were a +frustrated lot. They had gone into space to practice _apartheid_ and had +settled on a planet where there was no other intelligent race to be +superior to.... + +The Mormon Ambassador from Deseret--Delta Camelopardalis V.... + +The Ambassador from Spica VII, a short jolly-looking little fellow, with +a head like a seal's, long arms, short legs and a tail like a +kangaroo's.... + +The Ambassador from Beta Cephus VI, who could have passed for human if +he hadn't had blood with a copper base instead of iron. His skin was a +dark green and his hair was a bright blue.... + +I was beginning to correct my first impression that Thrombley was a +complete dithering fool. He stood at my left elbow, whispering the names +and governments and home planets of the Ambassadors as they came up, +handing me little slips of paper on which he had written phonetically +correct renditions of the greetings I would give them in their own +language. I was still twittering a reply to the greeting of +Nanadabadian, from Beta Cephus VI, when he whispered to me: + +"Here it comes, sir. The z'Srauff!" + +The z'Srauff were reasonably close to human stature and appearance, +allowing for the fact that their ancestry had been canine instead of +simian. They had, of course, longer and narrower jaws than we have, and +definitely carnivorous teeth. + +There were stories floating around that they enjoyed barbecued Terran +even better than they did supercow and hot relish. + +This one advanced, extending his three-fingered hand. + +"I am most happy to make connection with Solar League representative," +he said. "I am named Gglafrr Ddespttann Vuvuvu." + +No wonder Thrombley let him introduce himself. I answered in the Basic +English that was all he'd admit to understanding: + +"The name of your great nation has gone before you to me. The stories we +tell to our young of you are at the top of our books. I have hope to +make great pleasure in you and me to be friends." + +Gglafrr Vuvuvu's smile wavered a little at the oblique reference to the +couple of trouncings our Space Navy had administered to z'Srauff ships +in the past. "We will be in the same place again times with no number," +the alien replied. "I have hope for you that time you are in this place +will be long and will put pleasure in your heart." + +Then the pressure of the line behind him pushed him on. Cabinet Members; +Senators and Representatives; prominent citizens, mostly Judge +so-and-so, or Colonel this-or-that. It was all a blur, so much so that +it was an instant before I recognized the gleaming golden hair and the +statuesque figure. + +"Thank you! I have met the Ambassador." The lovely voice was shaking +with restrained anger. + +"Gail!" I exclaimed. + +"Your father coming to the barbecue, Gail?" President Hutchinson was +asking. + +"He ought to be here any minute. He sent me on ahead from the hotel. He +wants to meet the Ambassador. That's why I joined the line." + +"Well, suppose I leave Mr. Silk in your hands for a while," Hutchinson +said. "I ought to circulate around a little." + +"Yes. Just leave him in my hands!" she said vindictively. + +"What's wrong, Gail?" I wanted to know. "I know, I was supposed to meet +you at the spaceport, but--" + +"You made a beautiful fool of me at the spaceport!" + +"Look, I can explain everything. My Embassy staff insisted on hurrying +me off--" + +Somebody gave a high-pitched whoop directly behind me and emptied the +clip of a pistol. I couldn't even hear what else I said. I couldn't hear +what she said, either, but it was something angry. + +"You have to listen to me!" I roared in her ear. "I can explain +everything!" + +"Any diplomat can explain anything!" she shouted back. + +"Look, Gail, you're hanging an innocent man!" I yelled back at her. "I'm +entitled to a fair trial!" + +Somebody on the platform began firing his pistol within inches of the +loud-speakers and it sounded like an H-bomb going off. She grabbed my +wrist and dragged me toward a door under the platform. + +"Down here!" she yelled. "And this better be good, Mr. Silk!" + +We went down a spiral ramp, lighted by widely-scattered overhead lights. + +"Space-attack shelter," she explained. "And look: what goes on in +space-ships is one thing, but it's as much as a girl's reputation is +worth to come down here during a barbecue." + +There seemed to be quite few girls at that barbecue who didn't care what +happened to their reputations. We discovered that after looking into a +couple of passageways that branched off the entrance. + +"Over this way," Gail said, "Confederate Courts Building. There won't be +anything going on over here, now." + +I told her, with as much humorous detail as possible, about how +Thrombley had shanghaied me to the Embassy, and about the chase by the +Rangers. Before I was half through, she was laughing heartily, all +traces of her anger gone. Finally, we came to a stairway, and at the +head of it to a small door. + +"It's been four years that I've been away from here," she said. "I think +there's a reading room of the Law Library up here. Let's go in and enjoy +the quiet for a while." + +But when we opened the door, there was a Ranger standing inside. + +"Come to see a trial, Mr. Silk? Oh, hello, Gail. Just in time; they're +going to prepare for the next trial." + +As he spoke, something clicked at the door. Gail looked at me in +consternation. + +"Now we're locked in," she said. "We can't get out till the +trial's over." + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +I looked around. + +We were on a high balcony, at the end of a long, narrow room. In front +of us, windows rose to the ceiling, and it was evident that the floor of +the room was about twenty feet below ground level. Outside, I could see +the barbecue still going on, but not a murmur of noise penetrated to us. +What seemed to be the judge's bench was against the outside wall, under +the tall windows. To the right of it was a railed stand with a chair in +it, and in front, arranged in U-shape, were three tables at which a +number of men were hastily conferring. There were nine judges in a row +on the bench, all in black gowns. The spectators' seats below were +filled with people, and there were quite a few up here on the balcony. + +"What is this? Supreme Court?" I asked as Gail piloted me to a couple of +seats where we could be alone. + +"No, Court of Political Justice," she told me. "This is the court that's +going to try those three Bonney brothers, who killed Mr. Cumshaw." + +It suddenly occurred to me that this was the first time I had heard +anything specific about the death of my predecessor. + +"That isn't the trial that's going on now, I hope?" + +"Oh, no; that won't be for a couple of days. Not till after you can +arrange to attend. I don't know what this trial is. I only got home +today, myself." + +"What's the procedure here?" I wanted to know. + +"Well, those nine men are judges," she began. "The one in the middle is +President Judge Nelson. You've met his son--the Ranger officer who +chased you from the spaceport. He's a regular jurist. The other eight +are prominent citizens who are drawn from a panel, like a jury. The men +at the table on the left are the prosecution: friends of the politician +who was killed. And the ones on the right are the defense: they'll try +to prove that the dead man got what was coming to him. The ones in the +middle are friends of the court: they're just anybody who has any +interest in the case--people who want to get some point of law cleared +up, or see some precedent established, or something like that." + +"You seem to assume that this is a homicide case," I mentioned. + +"They generally are. Sometimes mayhem, or wounding, or simple assault, +but--" + +There had been some sort of conference going on in the open space of +floor between the judges' bench and the three tables. It broke up, now, +and the judge in the middle rapped with his gavel. + +"Are you gentlemen ready?" he asked. "All right, then. Court of +Political Justice of the Confederate Continents of New Texas is now in +session. Case of the friends of S. Austin Maverick, deceased, late of +James Bowie Continent, versus Wilbur Whately." + +"My God, did somebody finally kill Aus Maverick?" Gail whispered. + +On the center table, in front of the friends of the court, both sides +seemed to have piled their exhibits; among the litter I saw some torn +clothing, a big white sombrero covered with blood, and a long machete. + +"The general nature of the case," the judge was saying, "is that the +defendant, Wilbur Whately, of Sam Houston Continent, is here charged +with divers offenses arising from the death of the Honorable S. Austin +Maverick, whom he killed on the front steps of the Legislative Assembly +Building, here in New Austin...." + +_What goes on here?_ I thought angrily. _This is the rankest instance of +a pre-judged case I've ever seen._ I started to say as much to Gail, but +she hushed me. + +"I want to hear the specifications," she said. + +A man at the prosecution table had risen. + +"Please the court," he began, "the defendant, Wilbur Whately, is here +charged with political irresponsibility and excessive atrocity in +exercising his constitutional right of criticism of a practicing +politician. + +"The specifications are, as follows: That, on the afternoon of May +Seventh, Anno Domini 2193, the defendant here present did arm himself +with a machete, said machete not being one of his normal and accustomed +weapons, and did loiter in wait on the front steps of the Legislative +Assembly Building in the city of New Austin, Continent of Sam Houston, +and did approach the decedent, addressing him in abusive, obscene, and +indecent language, and did set upon and attack him with the machete +aforesaid, causing the said decedent, S. Austin Maverick, to die." + +The court wanted to know how the defendant would plead. Somebody, +without bothering to rise, said, "Not guilty, Your Honor," from the +defense table. + +There was a brief scraping of chairs; four of five men from the defense +and the prosecution tables got up and advanced to confer in front of the +bench, comparing sheets of paper. The man who had read the charges, +obviously the chief prosecutor, made himself the spokesman. + +"Your Honor, defense and prosecution wish to enter the following +stipulations: That the decedent was a practicing politician within the +meaning of the Constitution, that he met his death in the manner stated +in the coroner's report, and that he was killed by the defendant, Wilbur +Whately." + +"Is that agreeable to you, Mr. Vincent?" the judge wanted to know. + +The defense answered affirmatively. I sat back, gaping like a fool. Why, +that was practically--no, it _was_--a confession. + +"All right, gentlemen," the judge said. "Now we have all that out of the +way, let's get on with the case." + +As though there were any case to get on with! I fully expected them to +take it on from there in song, words by Gilbert and music by Sullivan. + +"Well, Your Honor, we have a number of character witnesses," the +prosecution--prosecution, for God's sake!--announced. + +"Skip them," the defense said. "We stipulate." + +"But you can't stipulate character testimony," the prosecution argued. +"You don't know what our witnesses are going to testify to." + +"Sure we do: they're going to give us a big long shaggy-dog story about +the Life and Miracles of Saint Austin Maverick. We'll agree in advance +to all that; this case is concerned only with his record as a +politician. And as he spent the last fifteen years in the Senate, that's +all a matter of public record. I assume that the prosecution is going to +introduce all that, too?" + +"Well, naturally ..." the prosecutor began. + +"Including his public acts on the last day of his life?" the counsel for +the defense demanded. "His actions on the morning of May seventh as +chairman of the Finance and Revenue Committee? You going to introduce +that as evidence for the prosecution?" + +"Well, now ..." the prosecutor began. + +"Your Honor, we ask to have a certified copy of the proceedings of the +Senate Finance and Revenue Committee for the morning of May Seventh, +2193, read into the record of this court," the counsel for the defense +said. "And thereafter, we rest our case." + +"Has the prosecution anything to say before we close the court?" Judge +Nelson inquired. + +"Well, Your Honor, this seems ... that is, we ought to hear both sides +of it. My old friend, Aus Maverick, was really a fine man; he did a lot +of good for the people of his continent...." + +"Yeah, we'd of lynched him, when he got back, if somebody hadn't chopped +him up here in New Austin!" a voice from the rear of the courtroom broke +in. + +The prosecution hemmed and hawed for a moment, and then announced, in a +hasty mumble, that it rested. + +"I will now close the court," Judge Nelson said. "I advise everybody to +keep your seats. I don't think it's going to be closed very long." + +And then, he actually closed the court; pressing a button on the bench, +he raised a high black screen in front of him and his colleagues. It +stayed up for some sixty seconds, and then dropped again. + +"The Court of Political Justice has reached a verdict," he announced. +"Wilbur Whately, and your attorney, approach and hear the verdict." + +The defense lawyer motioned a young man who had been sitting beside him +to rise. In the silence that had fallen, I could hear the defendant's +boots squeaking as he went forward to hear his fate. The judge picked up +a belt and a pair of pistols that had been lying in front of him. + +"Wilbur Whately," he began, "this court is proud to announce that you +have been unanimously acquitted of the charge of political +irresponsibility, and of unjustified and excessive atrocity. + +"There was one dissenting vote on acquitting you of the charge of +political irresponsibility; one of the associate judges felt that the +late unmitigated scoundrel, Austin Maverick, ought to have been skinned +alive, an inch at a time. You are, however, acquitted of that charge, +too. + +"You all know," he continued, addressing the entire assemblage, "the +reason for which this young hero cut down that monster of political +iniquity, S. Austin Maverick. On the very morning of his justly-merited +death, Austin Maverick, using the powers of his political influence, +rammed through the Finance and Revenue Committee a bill entitled 'An Act +for the Taxing of Personal Incomes, and for the Levying of a Withholding +Tax.' Fellow citizens, words fail me to express my horror of this +diabolic proposition, this proposed instrument of tyrannical extortion, +borrowed from the Dark Ages of the Twentieth Century! Why, if this young +nobleman had not taken his blade in hand, I'd have killed the +sonofabitch, myself!" + +He leaned forward, extending the belt and holsters to the defendant. + +"I therefore restore to you your weapons, taken from you when, in +compliance with the law, you were formally arrested. Buckle them on, +and, assuming your weapons again, go forth from this court a free man, +Wilbur Whately. And take with you that machete with which you vindicated +the liberties and rights of all New Texans. Bear it reverently to your +home, hang it among your lares and penates, cherish it, and dying, +mention it within your will, bequeathing it as a rich legacy unto your +issue! Court adjourned; next session 0900 tomorrow. For Chrissake, let's +get out of here before the barbecue's over!" + +Some of the spectators, drooling for barbecued supercow, began crowding +and jostling toward the exits; more of them were pushing to the front of +the courtroom, cheering and waving their hip-flasks. The prosecution +and about half of the friends of the court hastily left by a side door, +probably to issue statements disassociating themselves from the deceased +Maverick. + +"So that's the court that's going to try the men who killed Ambassador +Cumshaw," I commented, as Gail and I went out. "Why, the purpose of that +court seems to be to acquit murderers." + +"Murderers?" She was indignant. "That wasn't murder. He just killed a +politician. All the court could do was determine whether or not the +politician needed it, and while I never heard about Maverick's +income-tax proposition, I can't see how they could have brought in any +other kind of a verdict. Of all the outrageous things!" + + +I was thoughtfully silent as we went out into the plaza, which was still +a riot of noise and polychromatic costumes. And my thoughts were as +weltered as the scene before me. + +Apparently, on New Texas, killing a politician wasn't regarded as +_mallum in se_, and was _mallum prohibitorum_ only to the extent that +what happened to the politician was in excess of what he deserved. I +began to understand why Palme was such a scared rabbit, why Hutchinson +had that hunted look and kept his hands always within inches of his +pistols. + +I began to feel more pity than contempt for Thrombley, too. _He's been +on this planet too long and he should never have been sent here in the +first place. I'll rotate him home as soon as possible...._ + +Then the full meaning of what I had seen finally got through to me: if +they were going to try the killers of Cumshaw in that court, that meant +that on New Texas, foreign diplomats were regarded as practicing +politicians.... + +That made me a practicing politician too! + +And that's why, when we got back to the vicinity of the bandstand, I +had my right hand close to my pistol, with my thumb on the inconspicuous +little spot of silver inlay that operated the secret holster mechanism. + +I saw Hutchinson and Palme and Thrombley ahead. With them was a +newcomer, a portly, ruddy-faced gentleman with a white mustache and +goatee, dressed in a white suit. Gail broke away from me and ran toward +him. This, I thought, would be her father; now I would be introduced and +find out just what her last name was. I followed, more slowly, and saw a +waiter, with a wheeled serving-table, move in behind the group which she +had joined. + +So I saw what none of them did--the waiter suddenly reversed his long +carving-knife and poised himself for a blow at President Hutchinson's +back. I simply pressed the little silver stud on my belt, the +Krupp-Tatta popped obediently out of the holster into my open hand. I +thumbed off the safety and swung up; when my sights closed on the rising +hand that held the knife, I fired. + +Hoddy Ringo, who had been holding a sandwich with one hand and a drink +with the other, dropped both and jumped on the man whose hand I had +smashed. A couple of Rangers closed in and grabbed him, also. The group +around President Hutchinson had all turned and were staring from me to +the man I had shot, and from him to the knife with the broken handle, +lying on the ground. + +Hutchinson spoke first. "Well, Mr. Ambassador! My Government thanks your +Government! That was nice shooting!" + +"Hey, you been holdin' out on me!" Hoddy accused. "I never knew you was +that kinda gunfighter!" + +"There's a new wrinkle," the man with the white goatee said. "We'll have +to screen the help at these affairs a little more closely." He turned to +me. "Mr. Ambassador, New Texas owes you a great deal for saving the +President's life. If you'll get that pistol out of your hand, I'd be +proud to shake it, sir." + +I holstered my automatic, and took his hand. Gail was saying, "Stephen, +this is my father," and at the same time, Palme, the Secretary of State, +was doing it more formally: + +"Ambassador Silk, may I present one of our leading citizens and large +ranchers, Colonel Andrew Jackson Hickock." + +Dumbarton Oaks had taught me how to maintain the proper diplomat's +unchanging expression; drinking superbourbon had been a post-graduate +course. I needed that training as I finally learned Gail's last name. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +It was early evening before we finally managed to get away from the +barbecue. Thrombley had called the Embassy and told them not to wait +dinner for us, so the staff had finished eating and were relaxing in the +patio when our car came in through the street gate. Stonehenge and +another man came over to meet us as we got out--a man I hadn't met +before. + +He was a little fellow, half-Latin, half-Oriental; in New Texas costume +and wearing a pair of pistols like mine, in State Department Special +Services holsters. He didn't look like a Dumbarton Oaks product: I +thought he was more likely an alumnus of some private detective agency. + +"Mr. Francisco Parros, our Intelligence man," Stonehenge introduced him. + +"Sorry I wasn't here when you arrived, Mr. Silk," Parros said. "Out +checking on some things. But I saw that bit of shooting, on the telecast +screen in a bar over town. You know, there was a camera right over the +bandstand that caught the whole thing--you and Miss Hickock coming +toward the President and his party, Miss Hickock running forward to her +father, the waiter going up behind Hutchinson with the knife, and then +that beautiful draw and snap shot. They ran it again a couple of times +on the half-hourly newscast. Everybody in New Austin, maybe on New +Texas, is talking about it, now." + +"Yes, indeed, sir," Gomez, the Embassy Secretary, said, joining us. +"You've made yourself more popular in the eight hours since you landed +than poor Mr. Cumshaw had been able to do in the ten years he spent +here. But, I'm afraid, sir, you've given me a good deal of work, +answering your fan-mail." + +We went over and sat down at one of the big tables under the arches at +the side of the patio. + +"Well, that's all to the good," I said. "I'm going to need a lot of +local good will, in the next few weeks. No thanks, Mr. Parros," I added, +as the Intelligence man picked up a bottle and made to pour for me. +"I've been practically swimming in superbourbon all afternoon. A little +black coffee, if you don't mind. And now, gentlemen, if you'll all be +seated, we'll see what has to be done." + +"A council of war, in effect, Mr. Ambassador?" Stonehenge inquired. + +"Let's call it a council to estimate the situation. But I'll have to +find out from you first exactly what the situation here is." + +Thrombley stirred uneasily. "But sir, I confess that I don't understand. +Your briefing on Luna...." + +"Was practically nonexistent. I had a total of six hours to get aboard +ship, from the moment I was notified that I had been appointed to this +Embassy." + +"Incredible!" Thrombley murmured. + +I wondered what he'd say if I told him that I thought it was +deliberate. + +"Naturally, I spent some time on the ship reading up on this planet, but +I know practically nothing about what's been going on here in, say, the +last year. And all I know about the death of Mr. Cumshaw is that he is +said to have been killed by three brothers named Bonney." + +"So you'll want just about everything, Mr. Silk," Thrombley said. +"Really, I don't know where to begin." + +"Start with why and how Mr. Cumshaw was killed. The rest, I believe, +will key into that." + +So they began; Thrombley, Stonehenge and Parros doing the talking. It +came to this: + +Ever since we had first established an Embassy on New Texas, the goal of +our diplomacy on this planet had been to secure it into the Solar +League. And it was a goal which seemed very little closer to realization +now than it had been twenty-three years before. + +"You must know, by now, what politics on this planet are like, Mr. +Silk," Thrombley said. + +"I have an idea. One Ambassador gone native, another gone crazy, the +third killed himself, the fourth murdered." + +"Yes, indeed. I've been here fifteen years, myself...." + +"That's entirely too long for anybody to be stationed in this place," I +told him. "If I'm not murdered, myself, in the next couple of weeks, I'm +going to see that you and any other member of this staff who's been here +over ten years are rotated home for a tour of duty at Department +Headquarters." + +"Oh, would you, Mr. Silk? I would be so happy...." + +Thrombley wasn't much in the way of an ally, but at least he had a +sound, selfish motive for helping me stay alive. I assured him I would +get him sent back to Luna, and then went on with the discussion. + +Up until six months ago, Silas Cumshaw had modeled himself after the +typical New Texas politician. He had always worn at least two faces, and +had always managed to place himself on every side of every issue at +once. Nothing he ever said could possibly be construed as controversial. +Naturally, the cause of New Texan annexation to the Solar League had +made no progress whatever. + +Then, one evening, at a banquet, he had executed a complete 180-degree +turn, delivering a speech in which he proclaimed that union with the +Solar League was the only possible way in which New Texans could retain +even a vestige of local sovereignty. He had talked about an invasion as +though the enemy's ships were already coming out of hyperspace, and had +named the invader, calling the z'Srauff "our common enemy." The z'Srauff +Ambassador, also present, had immediately gotten up and stalked out, +amid a derisive chorus of barking and baying from the New Texans. The +New Texans were first shocked and then wildly delighted; they had been +so used to hearing nothing but inanities and high-order abstractions +from their public figures that the Solar League Ambassador had become a +hero overnight. + +"Sounds as though there is a really strong sentiment at what used to be +called the grass-roots level in favor of annexation," I commented. + +"There is," Parros told me. "Of course, there is a very strong +isolationist, anti-annexation, sentiment, too. The sentiment in favor +of annexation is based on the point Mr. Cumshaw made--the danger of +conquest by the z'Srauff. Against that, of course, there is fear of +higher taxes, fear of loss of local sovereignty, fear of abrogation of +local customs and institutions, and chauvinistic pride." + +"We can deal with some of that by furnishing guarantees of local +self-government; the emotional objections can be met by convincing them +that we need the great planet of New Texas to add glory and luster to +the Solar League," I said. "You think, then, that Mr. Cumshaw was +assassinated by opponents of annexation?" + +"Of course, sir," Thrombley replied. "These Bonneys were only hirelings. +Here's what happened, on the day of the murder: + +"It was the day after a holiday, a big one here on New Texas, +celebrating some military victory by the Texans on Terra, a battle +called San Jacinto. We didn't have any business to handle, because all +the local officials were home nursing hangovers, so when Colonel Hickock +called--" + +"Who?" I asked sharply. + +"Colonel Hickock. The father of the young lady you were so attentive to +at the barbecue. He and Mr. Cumshaw had become great friends, beginning +shortly before the speech the Ambassador made at that banquet. He called +about 0900, inviting Mr. Cumshaw out to his ranch for the day, and as +there was nothing in the way of official business, Mr. Cumshaw said he'd +be out by 1030. + +"When he got there, there was an aircar circling about, near the +ranchhouse. As Mr. Cumshaw got out of his car and started up the front +steps, somebody in this car landed it on the driveway and began +shooting with a twenty-mm auto-rifle. Mr. Cumshaw was hit several times, +and killed instantly." + +"The fellows who did the shooting were damned lucky," Stonehenge took +over. "Hickock's a big rancher. I don't know how much you know about +supercow-ranching, sir, but those things have to be herded with tanks +and light aircraft, so that every rancher has at his disposal a fairly +good small air-armor combat team. Naturally, all the big ranchers are +colonels in the Armed Reserve. Hickock has about fifteen fast fighters, +and thirty medium tanks armed with fifty-mm guns. He also has some +AA-guns around his ranch house--every once in a while, these ranchers +get to squabbling among themselves. + +"Well, these three Bonney brothers were just turning away when a burst +from the ranch house caught their jet assembly, and they could only get +as far as Bonneyville, thirty miles away, before they had to land. They +landed right in front of the town jail. + +"This Bonneyville's an awful shantytown; everybody in it is related to +everybody else. The mayor, for instance, Kettle-Belly Sam Bonney, is an +uncle of theirs. + +"These three boys--Switchblade Joe Bonney, Jack-High Abe Bonney and +Turkey-Buzzard Tom Bonney--immediately claimed sanctuary in the jail, on +the grounds that they had been near to--get that; I think that indicates +the line they're going to take at the trial--_near_ to a political +assassination. They were immediately given the protection of the jail, +which is about the only well-constructed building in the place, +practically a fort." + +"You think that was planned in advance?" I asked. + +Parros nodded emphatically. "I do. There was a hell of a big gang of +these Bonneys at the jail, almost the entire able-bodied population of +the place. As soon as Switchblade and Jack-High and Turkey-Buzzard +landed, they were rushed inside and all the doors barred. About three +minutes later, the Hickock outfit started coming in, first aircraft and +then armor. They gave that town a regular Georgie Patton style +blitzing." + +"Yes. I'm only sorry I wasn't there to see it," Stonehenge put in. "They +knocked down or burned most of the shanties, and then they went to work +on the jail. The aircraft began dumping these firebombs and stun-bombs +that they use to stop supercow stampedes, and the tank-guns began to +punch holes in the walls. As soon as Kettle-Belly saw what he had on his +hands, he radioed a call for Ranger protection. Our friend Captain +Nelson went out to see what the trouble was." + +"Yes. I got the story of that from Nelson," Parros put in. "Much as he +hated to do it, he had to protect the Bonneys. And as soon as he'd taken +a hand, Hickock had to call off his gang. But he was smart. He grabbed +everything relating to the killing--the aircar and the twenty-mm +auto-rifle in particular--and he's keeping them under cover. Very few +people know about that, or about the fact that on physical evidence +alone, he has the killing pinned on the Bonneys so well that they'll +never get away with this story of being merely innocent witnesses." + +"The rest, Mr. Silk, is up to us," Thrombley said. "I have Colonel +Hickock's assurance that he will give us every assistance, but we simply +must see to it that those creatures with the outlandish names are +convicted." + +I didn't have a chance to say anything to that: at that moment, one of +the servants ushered Captain Nelson toward us. + +"Good evening, Captain," I greeted the Ranger. "Join us, seeing that +you're on foreign soil and consequently not on duty." + +He sat down with us and poured a drink. + +"I thought you might be interested," he said. "We gave that waiter a +going-over. We wanted to know who put him up to it. He tried to sell us +the line that he was a New Texan patriot, trying to kill a tyrant, but +we finally got the truth out of him. He was paid a thousand pesos to do +the job, by a character they call Snake-Eyes Sam Bonney. A cousin of the +three who killed Mr. Cumshaw." + +"Nephew of Kettle-Belly Sam," Parros interjected. "You pick him up?" + +Nelson shook his head disgustedly. "He's out in the high grass +somewhere. We're still looking for him. Oh, yes, and I just heard that +the trial of Switchblade, and Jack-High and Turkey-Buzzard is scheduled +for three days from now. You'll be notified in due form tomorrow, but I +thought you might like to know in advance." + +"I certainly do, and thank you, Captain.... We were just talking about +you when you arrived," I mentioned. "About the arrest, or rescue, or +whatever you call it, of that trio." + +"Yeah. One of the jobs I'm not particularly proud of. Pity Hickock's +boys didn't get hold of them before I got there. It'd of saved everybody +a lot of trouble." + +"Just what impression did you get at the time, Captain?" I asked. "You +think Kettle-Belly knew in advance what they were going to do?" + +"Sure he did. They had the whole jail fortified. Not like a jail usually +is, to keep people from getting out; but like a fort, to keep people +from getting in. There were no prisoners inside. I found out that they +had all been released that morning." + +He stopped, seemed to be weighing his words, then continued, speaking +very slowly. + +"Let me tell you first some things I can't testify to, couple of things +that I figure went wrong with their plans. + +"One of Colonel Hickock's men was on the porch to greet Mr. Cumshaw and +he recognized the Bonneys. That was lucky; otherwise we might still be +lookin' and wonderin' who did the shootin', which might not have been +good for New Texas." + +He cocked an eyebrow and I nodded. The Solar League, in similar cases, +had regarded such planetary governments as due for change without notice +and had promptly made the change. + +"Number two," Captain Nelson continued, "that AA-shot which hit their +aircar. I don't think they intended to land at the jail--it was just +sort of a reserve hiding-hole. But because they'd been hit, they had to +land. And they'd been slowed down so much that they couldn't dispose of +the evidence before the Colonel's boys were tappin' on the door 'n' +askin', couldn't they come in." + +"I gather the Colonel's task-force was becoming insistent," I prompted +him. + +The big Ranger grinned. "Now we're on things I can testify to. + +"When I got there, what had been the cell-block was on fire, and they +were trying to defend the mayor's office and the warden's office. These +Bonneys gave me the line that they'd been witnesses to the killing of +Mr. Cumshaw by Colonel Hickock and that the Hickock outfit was trying to +rub them out to keep them from testifying. I just laughed and started to +walk out. Finally, they confessed that they'd shot Mr. Cumshaw, but they +claimed it was right of action against political malfeasance. When they +did that, I had to take them in." + +"They confessed to you, before you arrested them?" I wanted to be sure +of that point. + +"That's right. I'm going to testify to that, Monday, when the trial is +held. And that ain't all: we got their fingerprints off the car, off the +gun, off some shells still in the clip, and we have the gun identified +to the shells that killed Mr. Cumshaw. We got their confession fully +corroborated." + +I asked him if he'd give Mr. Parros a complete statement of what he'd +seen and heard at Bonneyville. He was more than willing and I suggested +that they go into Parros' office, where they'd be undisturbed. The +Ranger and my Intelligence man got up and took a bottle of superbourbon +with them. As they were leaving, Nelson turned to Hoddy, who was still +with us. + +"You'll have to look to your laurels, Hoddy," Nelson said. "Your +Ambassador seems to be making quite a reputation for himself as a +gunfighter." + +"Look," Hoddy said, and though he was facing Nelson, I felt he was +really talking to Stonehenge, "before I'd go up against this guy, I'd +shoot myself. That way, I could be sure I'd get a nice painless job." + +After they were gone, I turned to Stonehenge and Thrombley. "This seems +to be a carefully prearranged killing." + +They agreed. + +"Then they knew _in advance_ that Mr. Cumshaw would be on Colonel +Hickock's front steps at about 1030. _How did they find that out?_" + +"Why ... why, I'm sure I don't know," Thrombley said. It was most +obvious that the idea had never occurred to him before and a side glance +told me that the thought was new to Stonehenge also. "Colonel Hickock +called at 0900. Mr. Cumshaw left the Embassy in an aircar a few minutes +later. It took an hour and a half to fly out to the Hickock ranch...." + +"I don't like the implications, Mr. Silk," Stonehenge said. "I can't +believe that was how it happened. In the first place, Colonel Hickock +isn't that sort of man: he doesn't use his hospitality to trap people to +their death. In the second place, he wouldn't have needed to use people +like these Bonneys. His own men would do anything for him. In the third +place, he is one of the leaders of the annexation movement here and this +was obviously an anti-annexation job. And in the fourth place--" + +"Hold it!" I checked him. "Are you sure he's really on the annexation +side?" + +He opened his mouth to answer me quickly, then closed it, waited a +moment, answered me slowly. "I can guess what you are thinking, Mr. +Silk. But, remember, when Colonel Hickock came here as our first +Ambassador, he came here as a man with a mission. He had studied the +problem and he believed in what he came for. He has never changed. + +"Let me emphasize this, sir: we know he has never changed. For our own +protection, we've had to check on every real leader of the annexation +movement, screening them for crackpots who might do us more harm than +good. The Colonel is with us all the way. + +"And now, in the fourth place, underlined by what I've just said, the +Colonel and Mr. Cumshaw were really friends." + +"Now you're talking!" Hoddy burst in. "I've knowed A. J. ever since I +was a kid. Ever since he married old Colonel MacTodd's daughter. That +just ain't the way A. J. works!" + +"On the other hand, Mr. Ambassador," Thrombley said, keeping his gaze +fixed on Hoddy's hands and apparently ready to both duck and shut up if +Hoddy moved a finger, "you will recall, I think, that Colonel Hickock +did do everything in his power to see that these Bonney brothers did not +reach court alive. And, let me add," he was getting bolder, tilting his +chin up a little, "it's a choice as simple as this: either Colonel +Hickock told them, or we have--and this is unbelievable--a traitor in +the Embassy itself." + +That statement rocked even Hoddy. Even though he was probably no more +than one of Natalenko's little men, he still couldn't help knowing how +thoroughly we were screened, indoctrinated, and--let's face +it--mind-conditioned. A traitor among us was unthinkable because we just +couldn't think that way. + +The silence, the sorrow, were palpable. Then I remembered, told them, +Hickock himself had been a Department man. + +Stonehenge gripped his head between his hands and squeezed as if trying +to bring out an idea. "All right, Mr. Ambassador, where are we now? +Nobody who knew could have told the Bonney boys where Mr. Cumshaw would +be at 1030, yet the three men were there waiting for him. You take it +from there. I'm just a simple military man and I'm ready to go back to +the simple military life as soon as possible." + +I turned to Gomez. "There could be an obvious explanation. Bring us the +official telescreen log. Let's see what calls were made. Maybe Mr. +Cumshaw himself said something to someone that gave his destination +away." + +"That won't be necessary," Thrombley told me. "None of the junior clerks +were on duty, and I took the only three calls that came in, myself. +First, there was the call from Colonel Hickock. Then, the call about the +wrist watch. And then, a couple of hours later, the call from the +Hickock ranch, about Mr. Cumshaw's death." + +"What was the call about the wrist watch?" I asked. + +"Oh, that was from the z'Srauff Embassy," Thrombley said. "For some +time, Mr. Cumshaw had been trying to get one of the very precise +watches which the z'Srauff manufacture on their home planet. The +z'Srauff Ambassador called, that day, to tell him that they had one for +him and wanted to know when it was to be delivered. I told them the +Ambassador was out, and they wanted to know where they could call him +and I--" + +I had never seen a man look more horror-stricken. + +"Oh, my God! I'm the one who told them!" + +What could I say? Not much, but I tried. "How could you know, Mr. +Thrombley? You did the natural, the normal, the proper thing, on a call +from one Ambassador to another." + +I turned to the others, who, like me, preferred not to look at +Thrombley. "They must have had a spy outside who told them the +Ambassador had left the Embassy. Alone, right? And that was just what +they'd been waiting for. + +"But what's this about the watch, though. There's more to this than a +simple favor from one Ambassador to another." + +"My turn, Mr. Ambassador," Stonehenge interrupted. "Mr. Cumshaw had been +trying to get one of the things at my insistence. Naval Intelligence is +very much interested in them and we want a sample. The z'Srauff watches +are very peculiar--they're operated by radium decay, which, of course is +a universal constant. They're uniform to a tenth second and they're all +synchronized with the official time at the capital city of the principal +z'Srauff planet. The time used by the z'Srauff Navy." + +Stonehenge deliberately paused, let that last phrase hang heavily in the +air for a moment, then he continued. + +"They're supposed to be used in religious observances--timing hours of +prayer, I believe. They can, of course, have other uses. + +"For example, I can imagine all those watches giving the wearer a light +electric shock, or ringing a little bell, all over New Texas, at exactly +the same moment. And then I can imagine all the z'Srauff running down +into nice deep holes in the ground." + +He looked at his own watch. "And that reminds me: my gang of pirates are +at the spaceport by now, ready to blast off. I wonder if someone could +drive me there." + +"I'll drive him, boss," Hoddy volunteered. "I ain't doin' nothin' else." + +I was wondering how I could break that up, plausibly and without +betraying my suspicions, when Parros and Captain Nelson came out and +joined us. + +"I have a lot of stuff here," Parros said. "Stuff we never seemed to +have noticed. For instance--" + +I interrupted. "Commander Stonehenge's going to the spaceport, now," I +said. "Suppose you ride with him, and brief him on what you learned, on +the way. Then, when he's aboard, come back and tell us." + +Hoddy looked at me for a long ten seconds. His expression started by +being exasperated and ended by betraying grudging admiration. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +The next morning, which was Saturday, I put Thrombley in charge of the +routine work of the Embassy, but first instructed him to answer all +inquiries about me with the statement, literally true, that I was too +immersed in work of clearing up matters left unfinished after the death +of the former Ambassador for any social activities. Then I called the +Hickock ranch in the west end of Sam Houston Continent, mentioning an +invitation the Colonel and his daughter had extended me, and told them I +would be out to see them before noon that same day. With Hoddy Ringo +driving the car, I arrived about 1000, and was welcomed by Gail and her +father, who had flown out the evening before, after the barbecue. + +Hoddy, accompanied by a Ranger and one of Hickock's ranch hands, all +three disguised in shabby and grease-stained cast-offs borrowed at the +ranch, and driving a dilapidated aircar from the ranch junkyard, were +sent to visit the slum village of Bonneyville. They spent all day there, +posing as a trio of range tramps out of favor with the law. + +I spent the day with Gail, flying over the range, visiting Hickock's +herd camps and slaughtering crews. It was a pleasant day and I managed +to make it constructive as well. + +Because of their huge size--they ran to a live weight of around fifteen +tons--and their uncertain disposition, supercows are not really +domesticated. Each rancher owned the herds on his own land, chiefly by +virtue of constant watchfulness over them. There were always a couple of +helicopters hovering over each herd, with fast fighter planes waiting on +call to come in and drop fire-bombs or stun-bombs in front of them if +they showed a disposition to wander too far. Naturally, things of this +size could not be shipped live to the market; they were butchered on the +range, and the meat hauled out in big 'copter-trucks. + +Slaughtering was dangerous and exciting work. It was done with medium +tanks mounting fifty-mm guns, usually working at the rear of the herd, +although a supercow herd could change directions almost in a second and +the killing-tanks would then find themselves in front of a stampede. I +saw several such incidents. Once Gail and I had to dive in with our car +and help turn such a stampede. + +We got back to the ranch house shortly before dinner. Gail went at once +to change clothes; Colonel Hickock and I sat down together for a drink +in his library, a beautiful room. I especially admired the walls, +panelled in plastic-hardened supercow-leather. + +"What do you think of our planet now, Mr. Silk?" Colonel Hickock asked. + +"Well, Colonel, your final message to the State was part of the briefing +I received," I replied. "I must say that I agree with your opinions. +Especially with your opinion of local political practices. Politics is +nothing, here, if not exciting and exacting." + +"You don't understand it though." That was about half-question and +half-statement. "Particularly our custom of using politicians as clay +pigeons." + +"Well, it is rather unusual...." + +"Yes." The dryness in his tone was a paragraph of comment on my +understatement. "And it's fundamental to our system of government. + +"You were out all afternoon with Gail; you saw how we have to handle the +supercow herds. Well, it is upon the fact that every rancher must have +at his disposal a powerful force of aircraft and armor, easily +convertible to military uses, that our political freedom rests. You see, +our government is, in effect, an oligarchy of the big landowners and +ranchers, who, in combination, have enough military power to overturn +any Planetary government overnight. And, on the local level, it is a +paternalistic feudalism. + +"That's something that would have stood the hair of any Twentieth +Century 'Liberal' on end. And it gives us the freest government anywhere +in the galaxy. + +"There were a number of occasions, much less frequent now than formerly, +when coalitions of big ranches combined their strength and marched on +the Planetary government to protect their rights from government +encroachment. This sort of thing could only be resorted to in defense of +some inherent right, and never to infringe on the rights of others. +Because, in the latter case, other armed coalitions would have arisen, +as they did once or twice during the first three decades of New Texan +history, to resist. + +"So the right of armed intervention by the people when the government +invaded or threatened their rights became an acknowledged part of our +political system. + +"And--this arises as a natural consequence--you can't give a man with +five hundred employees and a force of tanks and aircraft the right to +resist the government, then at the same time deny that right to a man +who has only his own pistol or machete." + +"I notice the President and the other officials have themselves +surrounded by guards to protect them from individual attack," I said. +"Why doesn't the government, as such, protect itself with an army and +air force large enough to resist any possible coalition of the big +ranchers?" + +"_Because we won't let the government get that strong!_" the Colonel +said forcefully. "That's one of the basic premises. We have no standing +army, only the New Texas Rangers. And the legislature won't authorize +any standing army, or appropriate funds to support one. Any member of +the legislature who tried it would get what Austin Maverick got, a +couple of weeks ago, or what Sam Saltkin got, eight years ago, when he +proposed a law for the compulsory registration and licensing of +firearms. The opposition to that tax scheme of Maverick's wasn't because +of what it would cost the public in taxes, but from fear of what the +government could do with the money after they got it. + +"Keep a government poor and weak and it's your servant; let it get rich +and powerful and it's your master. We don't want any masters here on +New Texas." + +"But the President has a bodyguard," I noted. + +"Casualty rate was too high," Hickock explained. "Remember, the +President's job is inherently impossible: he has to represent _all_ the +people." + +I thought that over, could see the illogical logic, but ... "How about +your rancher oligarchy?" + +He laughed. "Son, if I started acting like a master around this ranch in +the morning, they'd find my body in an irrigation ditch before sunset. + +"Sure, if you have a real army, you can keep the men under your +thumb--use one regiment or one division to put down mutiny in another. +But when you have only five hundred men, all of whom know everybody else +and all of them armed, you just act real considerate of them if you want +to keep on living." + +"Then would you say that the opposition to annexation comes from the +people who are afraid that if New Texas enters the Solar League, there +will be League troops sent here and this ... this interesting system of +insuring government responsibility to the public would be brought to an +end?" + +"Yes. If you can show the people of this planet that the League won't +interfere with local political practices, you'll have a 99.95 percent +majority in favor of annexation. We're too close to the z'Srauff +star-cluster, out here, not to see the benefits of joining the Solar +League." + +We left the Hickock ranch on Sunday afternoon and while Hoddy guided our +air-car back to New Austin, I had a little time to revise some of my +ideas about New Texas. That is, I had time to think during those few +moments when Hoddy wasn't taking advantage of our diplomatic immunity to +invent new air-ground traffic laws. + +My thoughts alternated between the pleasure of remembering Gail's gay +company and the gloom of understanding the complete implications of the +Colonel's clarifying lectures. Against the background of his remarks, I +could find myself appreciating the Ghopal-Klüng-Natalenko reasoning: the +only way to cut the Gordian knot was to have another Solar League +Ambassador killed. + +And, whenever I could escape thinking about the fact that the next +Ambassador to be the clay pigeon was me, I found myself wondering if I +wanted the League to take over. Annexation, yes; New Texas customs would +be protected under a treaty of annexation. But the "justified conquest" +urged by Machiavelli, Jr.? No. + +I was still struggling with the problem when we reached the Embassy +about 1700. Everyone was there, including Stonehenge, who had returned +two hours earlier with the good news that the fleet had moved into +position only sixty light-minutes off Capella IV. I had reached the +point in my thinking where I had decided it was useless to keep Hoddy +and Stonehenge apart except as an exercise in mental agility. Inasmuch +as my brain was already weight-lifting, swinging from a flying trapeze +to elusive flying rings while doing triple somersaults and at the same +time juggling seven Indian clubs, I skipped the whole matter. + +But I'm fairly certain that it wasn't till then that Hoddy had a chance +to deliver his letter-of-credence to Stonehenge. + +After dinner, we gathered in my office for our coffee and a final +conference before the opening of the trial the next morning. + +Stonehenge spoke first, looking around the table at everyone except me. + +"No matter what happens, we have the fleet within call. Sir Rodney's +been active picking up those z'Srauff meteor-mining boats. They no +longer have a tight screen around the system. We do. I don't think that +anyone, except us, knows that the fleet's where it is." + +_No matter what happens_, I thought glumly, and the phrase explained why +he hadn't been able to look at me. + +"Well, boss, I gave you my end of it, comin' in," Hoddy said. "Want me +to go over it again? All right. In Bonneyville, we found half a dozen +people who can swear that Kettle-Belly Sam Bonney was making +preparations to protect those three brothers an hour before Ambassador +Cumshaw was shot. The whole town's sorer than hell at Kettle-Belly for +antagonizing the Hickock outfit and getting the place shot up the way it +was. And we have witnesses that Kettle-Belly was in some kind of deal +with the z'Srauff, too. The Rangers gathered up eight of them, who can +swear to the preparations and to the fact that Kettle-Belly had z'Srauff +visitors on different occasions before the shooting." + +"That's what we want," Stonehenge said. "Something that'll connect this +murder with the z'Srauff." + +"Well, wait till you hear what I've got," Parros told him. "In the first +place, we traced the gun and the air-car. The Bonney brothers bought +them both from z'Srauff merchants, for ridiculously nominal prices. The +merchant who sold the aircar is normally in the dry-goods business, and +the one who sold the auto-rifle runs a toy shop. In their whole lives, +those three boys never had enough money among them to pay the list price +of the gun, let alone the car. That is, not until a week before the +murder." + +"They got prosperous, all of a sudden?" I asked. + +"Yes. Two weeks before the shooting, Kettle-Belly Sam's bank account got +a sudden transfusion: some anonymous benefactor deposited 250,000 +pesos--about a hundred thousand dollars--to his credit. He drew out +75,000 of it and some of the money turned up again in the hands of +Switchblade and Jack-High and Turkey-Buzzard. Then, a week before you +landed here, he got another hundred thousand from the same anonymous +source and he drew out twenty thousand of that. We think that was the +money that went to pay for the attempted knife-job on Hutchinson. Two +days before the barbecue, the waiter deposited a thousand at the New +Austin Packers' and Shippers' Trust." + +"Can you get that introduced as evidence at the trial?" I asked. + +"Sure. Kettle-Belly banks at a town called Crooked Creek, about forty +miles from Bonneyville. We have witnesses from the bank. + +"I also got the dope on the line the Bonney brothers are going to take +at the trial. They have a lawyer, Clement A. Sidney, a member of what +passes for the Socialist Party on this planet. The defense will take the +line of full denial of everything. The Bonneys are just three poor but +honest boys who are being framed by the corrupt tools of the Big +Ranching Interests." + +Hoddy made an impolite noise. "Whatta we got to worry about, then?" he +demanded. "They're a cinch for conviction." + +"I agree with that," Stonehenge said. "If they tried to base their +defense on political conviction and opposition by the Solar League, they +might have a chance. This way, they haven't." + +"All right, gentlemen," I said, "I take it that we're agreed that we +must all follow a single line of policy and not work at cross-purposes +to each other?" + +They all agreed to that instantly, but with a questioning note in their +voices. + +"Well, then, I trust you all realize that we cannot, under any +circumstances, allow those three brothers to be convicted in this +court," I added. + +There was a moment of startled silence, while Hoddy and Stonehenge and +Parros and Thrombley were understanding what they had just heard. Then +Stonehenge cleared his throat and said: + +"Mr. Ambassador! I'm sure that you have some excellent reasons for that +remarkable statement, but I must say--" + +"It was a really colossal error on somebody's part," I said, "that this +case was allowed to get into the Court of Political Justice. It never +should have. And if we take a part in the prosecution, or allow those +men to be convicted, we will establish a precedent to support the +principle that a foreign Ambassador is, on this planet, defined as a +practicing local politician. + +"I will invite you to digest that for a moment." + +A moment was all they needed. Thrombley was horrified and dithered +incoherently. Stonehenge frowned and fidgeted with some papers in front +of him. I could see several thoughts gathering behind his eyes, +including, I was sure, a new view of his instructions from Klüng. + +Even Hoddy got at least part of it. "Why, that means that anybody can +bump off any diplomat he doesn't like...." he began. + +"That is only part of it, Mr. Ringo," Thrombley told him. "It also means +that a diplomat, instead of being regarded as the representative of his +own government, becomes, in effect, a functionary of the government of +New Texas. Why, all sorts of complications could arise...." + +"It certainly would impair, shall we say, the principle of +extraterritoriality of Embassies," Stonehenge picked it up. "And it +would practically destroy the principle of diplomatic immunity." + +"Migawd!" Hoddy looked around nervously, as though he could already hear +an army of New Texas Rangers, each with a warrant for Hoddy Ringo, +battering at the gates. + +"We'll have to do something!" Gomez, the Secretary of the Embassy, said. + +"I don't know what," Stonehenge said. "The obvious solution would be, of +course, to bring charges against those Bonney Boys on simple +first-degree murder, which would be tried in an ordinary criminal court. +But it's too late for that now. We wouldn't have time to prevent their +being arraigned in this Political Justice court, and once a defendant is +brought into court, on this planet, he cannot be brought into court +again for the same act. Not the same _crime_, the same _act_." + +I had been thinking about this and I was ready. "Look, we must bring +those Bonney brothers to trial. It's the only effective way of +demonstrating to the public the simple fact that Ambassador Cumshaw was +murdered at the instigation of the z'Srauff. We dare not allow them to +be convicted in the Court of Political Justice, for the reasons already +stated. And to maintain the prestige of the Solar League, we dare not +allow them to go unpunished." + +"We can have it one way," Parros said, "and maybe we can have it two +ways. But I'm damned if I can see how we can have it all three ways." + +I wasn't surprised that he didn't see it; he hadn't had the same urgency +goading him which had forced me to find the answer. It wasn't an answer +that I liked, but I was in the position where I had no choice. + +"Well, here's what we have to do, gentlemen," I began, and from the +respectful way they regarded me, from the attention they were giving my +words, I got a sudden thrill of pride. For the first time since my +scrambled arrival, I was really _Ambassador_ Stephen Silk. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +A couple of New Texas Ranger tanks met the Embassy car four blocks from +the Statehouse and convoyed us into the central plaza, where the +barbecue had been held on the Friday afternoon that I had arrived on New +Texas. There was almost as dense a crowd as the last time I had seen the +place; but they were quieter, to the extent that there were no bands, +and no shooting, no cowbells or whistles. The barbecue pits were going +again, however, and hawkers were pushing or propelling their little +wagons about, vending sandwiches. I saw a half a dozen big twenty-foot +teleview screens, apparently wired from the courtroom. + +As soon as the Embassy car and its escorting tanks reached the plaza, an +ovation broke out. I was cheered, with the high-pitched _yipeee!_ of New +Texans and adjured and implored not to let them so-and-sos get away with +it. + +There was a veritable army of Rangers on guard at the doors of the +courtroom. The only spectators being admitted to the courtroom seemed to +be prominent citizens with enough pull to secure passes. + +Inside, some of the spectators' benches had been removed to clear the +front of the room. In the cleared space, there was one bulky shape +under a cloth cover that seemed to be the air-car and another +cloth-covered shape that looked like a fifty-mm dual-purpose gun. +Smaller exhibits, including a twenty-mm auto-rifle, were piled on the +friends-of-the-court table. The prosecution table was already +occupied--Colonel Hickock, who waved a greeting to me, three or four men +who looked like well-to-do ranchers, and a delegation of lawyers. + +"Samuel Goodham," Parros, beside me, whispered, indicating a big, +heavy-set man with white hair, dressed in a dark suit of the cut that +had been fashionable on Terra seventy-five years ago. "Best criminal +lawyer on the planet. Hickock must have hired him." + +There was quite a swarm at the center table, too. Some of them were +ranchers, a couple in aggressively shabby workclothes, and there were +several members of the Diplomatic Corps. I shook hands with them and +gathered that they, like myself, were worried about the precedent that +might be established by this trial. While I was introducing Hoddy Ringo +as my attaché extraordinary, which was no less than the truth, the +defense party came in. + +There were only three lawyers--a little, rodent-faced fellow, whom +Parros pointed out as Clement Sidney, and two assistants. And, guarded +by a Ranger and a couple of court-bailiffs, the three defendants, +Switchblade Joe, Jack-High Abe and Turkey-Buzzard Tom Bonney. There was +probably a year or so age different from one to another, but they +certainly had a common parentage. They all had pale eyes and narrow, +loose-lipped faces. Subnormal and probably psychopathic, I thought. +Jack-High Abe had his left arm in a sling and his left shoulder in a +plaster cast. The buzz of conversation among the spectators altered its +tone subtly and took on a note of hostility as they entered and seated +themselves. + +The balcony seemed to be crowded with press representatives. Several +telecast cameras and sound pickups had been rigged to cover the front of +the room from various angles, a feature that had been missing from the +trial I had seen with Gail on Friday. + +Then the judges entered from a door behind the bench, which must have +opened from a passageway under the plaza, and the court was called to +order. + +The President Judge was the same Nelson who had presided at the Whately +trial and the first thing on the agenda seemed to be the selection of a +new board of associate judges. Parros explained in a whisper that the +board which had served on the previous trial would sit until that could +be done. + +A slip of paper was drawn from a box and a name was called. A man +sitting on one of the front rows of spectators' seats got up and came +forward. One of Sidney's assistants rummaged through a card file he had +in front of him and handed a card to the chief of the defense. At once, +Sidney was on his feet. + +"Challenged, for cause!" he called out. "This man is known to have +declared, in conversation at the bar of the Silver Peso Saloon, here in +New Austin, that these three boys, my clients, ought all to be hanged +higher than Haman." + +"Yes, I said that!" the venireman declared. "I'll repeat it right here: +all three of these murdering skunks ought to be hanged higher than--" + +"Your Honor!" Sidney almost screamed. "If, after hearing this man's +brazen declaration of bigoted class hatred against my clients, he is +allowed to sit on that bench--" + +Judge Nelson pounded with his gavel. "You don't have to instruct me in +my judicial duties, Counselor," he said. "The venireman has obviously +disqualified himself by giving evidence of prejudice. Next name." + +The next man was challenged: he was a retired packing-house operator in +New Austin, and had once expressed the opinion that Bonneyville and +everybody in it ought to be H-bombed off the face of New Texas. + +This Sidney seemed to have gotten the name of everybody likely to be +called for court duty and had something on each one of them, because he +went on like that all morning. + +"You know what I think," Stonehenge whispered to me, leaning over behind +Parros. "I think he's just stalling to keep the court in session until +the z'Srauff fleet gets here. I wish we could get hold of one of those +wrist watches." + +"I can get you one, before evening," Hoddy offered, "if you don't care +what happens to the mutt that's wearin' it." + +"Better not," I decided. "Might tip them off to what we suspect. And we +don't really need one: Sir Rodney will have patrols out far enough to +get warning in time." + + +We took an hour, at noon, for lunch, and then it began again. By 1647, +fifteen minutes before court should be adjourned, Judge Nelson ordered +the bailiff to turn the clock back to 1300. The clock was turned back +again when it reached 1645. By this time, Clement Sidney was probably +the most unpopular man on New Texas. + +Finally, Colonel Andrew J. Hickock rose to his feet. + +"Your Honor: the present court is not obliged to retire from the bench +until another court has been chosen as they are now sitting as a court +in being. I propose that the trial begin, with the present court on the +bench." + +Sidney began yelling protests. Hoddy Ringo pulled his neckerchief around +under his left ear and held the ends above his head. Nanadabadian, the +Ambassador from Beta Cephus IV, drew his biggest knife and began trying +the edge on a sheet of paper. + +"Well, Your Honor, I certainly do not wish to act in an obstructionist +manner. The defense agrees to accept the present court," Sidney decided. + +"Prosecution agrees to accept the present court," Goodham parroted. + +"The present court will continue on the bench, to try the case of the +Friends of Silas Cumshaw, deceased, versus Switchblade Joe Bonney, +Jack-High Abe Bonney, Turkey-Buzzard Tom Bonney, et als." Judge Nelson +rapped with his gavel. "Court is herewith adjourned until 0900 +tomorrow." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +The trial got started the next morning with a minimum amount of +objections from Sidney. The charges and specifications were duly read, +the three defendants pleaded not guilty, and then Goodham advanced with +a paper in his hand to address the court. Sidney scampered up to take +his position beside him. + +"Your Honor, the prosecution wishes, subject to agreement of the +defense, to enter the following stipulations, to wit: First, that the +late Silas Cumshaw was a practicing politician within the meaning of the +law. Second, that he is now dead, and came to his death in the manner +attested to by the coroner of Sam Houston Continent. Third, that he came +to his death at the hands of the defendants here present." + +In all my planning, I'd forgotten that. I couldn't let those +stipulations stand without protest, and at the same time, if I protested +the characterization of Cumshaw as a practicing politician, the trial +could easily end right there. So I prayed for a miracle, and Clement +Sidney promptly obliged me. + +"Defense won't stipulate anything!" he barked. "My clients, here, are +victims of a monstrous conspiracy, a conspiracy to conceal the true +facts of the death of Silas Cumshaw. They ought never to have been +arrested or brought here, and if the prosecution wants to establish +anything, they can do it by testimony, in the regular and lawful way. +This practice of free-wheeling stipulation is only one of the many +devices by which the courts of this planet are being perverted to serve +the corrupt and unjust ends of a gang of reactionary landowners!" + +Judge Nelson's gavel hit the bench with a crack like a rifle shot. + +"Mr. Sidney! In justice to your clients, I would hate to force them to +change lawyers in the middle of their trial, but if I hear another +remark like that about the courts of New Texas, that's exactly what will +happen, because you'll be in jail for contempt! Is that clear, Mr. +Sidney?" + +I settled back with a deep sigh of relief which got me, I noticed, +curious stares from my fellow Ambassadors. I disregarded the questions +in their glances; I had what I wanted. + +They began calling up the witnesses. + +First, the doctor who had certified Ambassador Cumshaw's death. He gave +a concise description of the wounds which had killed my predecessor. +Sidney was trying to make something out of the fact that he was +Hickock's family physician, and consuming more time, when I got up. + +"Your Honor, I am present here as _amicus curiae_, because of the +obvious interest which the Government of the Solar League has in this +case...." + +"Objection!" Sidney yelled. + +"Please state it," Nelson invited. + +"This is a court of the people of the planet of New Texas. This foreign +emissary of the Solar League, sent here to conspire with New Texan +traitors to the end that New Texans shall be reduced to a supine and +ravished satrapy of the all-devouring empire of the Galaxy--" + +Judge Nelson rapped sharply. + +"Friends of the court are defined as persons having a proper interest in +the case. As this case arises from the death of the former Ambassador of +the Solar League, I cannot see how the present Ambassador and his staff +can be excluded. Overruled." He nodded to me. "Continue, Mr. +Ambassador." + +"As I understand, I have the same rights of cross-examination of +witnesses as counsel for the prosecution and defense; is that correct, +Your Honor?" It was, so I turned to the witness. "I suppose, Doctor, +that you have had quite a bit of experience, in your practice, with +gunshot wounds?" + +He chuckled. "Mr. Ambassador, it is gunshot-wound cases which keep the +practice of medicine and surgery alive on this planet. Yes, I definitely +have." + +"Now, you say that the deceased was hit by six different projectiles: +right shoulder almost completely severed, right lung and right ribs +blown out of the chest, spleen and kidneys so intermingled as to be +practically one, and left leg severed by complete shattering of the left +pelvis and hip-joint?" + +"That's right." + +I picked up the 20-mm auto-rifle--it weighed a good sixty pounds--from +the table, and asked him if this weapon could have inflicted such +wounds. He agreed that it both could and had. + +"This the usual type of weapon used in your New Texas political +liquidations?" I asked. + +"Certainly not. The usual weapons are pistols; sometimes a hunting-rifle +or a shotgun." + +I asked the same question when I cross-examined the ballistics witness. + +"Is this the usual type of weapon used in your New Texas political +liquidations?" + +"No, not at all. That's a very expensive weapon, Mr. Ambassador. Wasn't +even manufactured on this planet; made by the z'Srauff star-cluster. A +weapon like that sells for five, six hundred pesos. It's used for +shooting really big game--supermastodon, and things like that. And, of +course, for combat." + +"It seems," I remarked, "that the defense is overlooking an obvious +point there. I doubt if these three defendants ever, in all their lives, +had among them the price of such a weapon." + +That, of course, brought Sidney to his feet, sputtering objections to +this attempt to disparage the honest poverty of his clients, which only +helped to call attention to the point. + +Then the prosecution called in a witness named David Crockett +Longfellow. I'd met him at the Hickock ranch; he was Hickock's butler. +He limped from an old injury which had retired him from work on the +range. He was sworn in and testified to his name and occupation. + +"Do you know these three defendants?" Goodham asked him. + +"Yeah. I even marked one of them for future identification," Longfellow +replied. + +Sidney was up at once, shouting objections. After he was quieted down, +Goodham remarked that he'd come to that point later, and began a line of +questioning to establish that Longfellow had been on the Hickock ranch +on the day when Silas Cumshaw was killed. + +"Now," Goodham said, "will you relate to the court the matters of +interest which came to your personal observation on that day." + +Longfellow began his story. "At about 0900, I was dustin' up and +straightenin' things in the library while the Colonel was at his desk. +All of a sudden, he said to me, 'Davy, suppose you call the Solar +Embassy and see if Mr. Cumshaw is doin' anything today; if he isn't, ask +him if he wants to come out.' I was workin' right beside the +telescreen. So I called the Solar League Embassy. Mr. Thrombley took +the call, and I asked him was Mr. Cumshaw around. By this time, the +Colonel got through with what he was doin' at the desk and came over +to the screen. I went back to my work, but I heard the Colonel askin' +Mr. Cumshaw could he come out for the day, an' Mr. Cumshaw sayin', +yes, he could; he'd be out by about 1030. + +"Well, 'long about 1030, his air-car came in and landed on the drive. +Little single-seat job that he drove himself. He landed it about a +hundred feet from the outside veranda, like he usually did, and got out. + +"Then, this other car came droppin' in from outa nowhere. I didn't pay +it much attention; thought it might be one of the other Ambassadors that +Mr. Cumshaw'd brung along. But Mr. Cumshaw turned around and looked at +it, and then he started to run for the veranda. I was standin' in the +doorway when I seen him startin' to run. I jumped out on the porch, +quick-like, and pulled my gun, and then this auto-rifle begun firin' +outa the other car. There was only eight or ten shots fired from this +car, but most of them hit Mr. Cumshaw." + +Goodham waited a few moments. Longfellow's voice had choked and there +was a twitching about his face, as though he were trying to suppress +tears. + +"Now, Mr. Longfellow," Goodham said, "did you recognize the people who +were in the car from which the shots came?" + +"Yeah. Like I said, I cut a mark on one of them. That one there: +Jack-High Abe Bonney. He was handlin' the gun, and from where I was, he +had his left side to me. I was tryin' for his head, but I always +overshoot, so I have the habit of holdin' low. This time I held too +low." He looked at Jack-High in coldly poisonous hatred. "I'll be sorry +about that as long as I live." + +"And who else was in the car?" + +"The other two curs outa the same litter: Switchblade an' +Turkey-Buzzard, over there." + +Further questioning revealed that Longfellow had had no direct knowledge +of the pursuit, or the siege of the jail in Bonneyville. Colonel Hickock +had taken personal command of that, and had left Longfellow behind to +call the Solar League Embassy and the Rangers. He had made no attempt to +move the body, but had left it lying in the driveway until the doctor +and the Rangers arrived. + +Goodham went to the middle table and picked up a heavy automatic pistol. + +"I call the court's attention to this pistol. It is an eleven-mm +automatic, manufactured by the Colt Firearms Company of New Texas, a +licensed subsidiary of the Colt Firearms Company of Terra." He handed it +to Longfellow. "Do you know this pistol?" he asked. + +Longfellow was almost insulted by the question. Of course he knew his +own pistol. He recited the serial number, and pointed to different scars +and scratches on the weapon, telling how they had been acquired. + +"The court accepts that Mr. Longfellow knows his own weapon," Nelson +said. "I assume that this is the weapon with which you claim to have +shot Jack-High Abe Bonney?" + +It was, although Longfellow resented the qualification. + +"That's all. Your witness, Mr. Sidney," Goodham said. + +Sidney began an immediate attack. + +Questioning Longfellow's eyesight, intelligence, honesty and integrity, +he tried to show personal enmity toward the Bonneys. He implied that +Longfellow had been conspiring with Cumshaw to bring about the conquest +of New Texas by the Solar League. The verbal exchange became so heated +that both witness and attorney had to be admonished repeatedly from the +bench. But at no point did Sidney shake Longfellow from his one +fundamental statement, that the Bonney brothers had shot Silas Cumshaw +and that he had shot Jack-High Abe Bonney in the shoulder. + +When he was finished, I got up and took over. + +"Mr. Longfellow, you say that Mr. Thrombley answered the screen at the +Solar League Embassy," I began. "You know Mr. Thrombley?" + +"Sure, Mr. Silk. He's been out at the ranch with Mr. Cumshaw a lotta +times." + +"Well, beside yourself and Colonel Hickock and Mr. Cumshaw and, +possibly, Mr. Thrombley, who else knew that Mr. Cumshaw would be at the +ranch at 1030 on that morning?" + +Nobody. But the aircar had obviously been waiting for Mr. Cumshaw; the +Bonneys must have had advance knowledge. My questions made that point +clear despite the obvious--and reluctantly court-sustained--objections +from Mr. Sidney. + +"That will be all, Mr. Longfellow; thank you. Any questions from anybody +else?" + +There being none, Longfellow stepped down. It was then a few minutes +before noon, so Judge Nelson recessed court for an hour and a half. + + +In the afternoon, the surgeon who had treated Jack-High Abe Bonney's +wounded shoulder testified, identifying the bullet which had been +extracted from Bonney's shoulder. A ballistics man from Ranger crime-lab +followed him to the stand and testified that it had been fired from +Longfellow's Colt. Then Ranger Captain Nelson took the stand. His +testimony was about what he had given me at the Embassy, with the +exception that the Bonneys' admission that they had shot Ambassador +Cumshaw was ruled out as having been made under duress. + +However, Captain Nelson's testimony didn't need the confessions. + +The cover was stripped off the air-car, and a couple of men with a +power-dolly dragged it out in front of the bench. The Ranger Captain +identified it as the car which he had found at the Bonneyville jail. He +went over it with an ultra-violet flashlight and showed where he had +written his name and the date on it with fluorescent ink. The effects of +AA-fire were plainly evident on it. + +Then the other shrouded object was unveiled and identified as the gun +which had disabled the air-car. Colonel Hickock identified the gun as +the one with which he had fired on the air-car. Finally, the ballistics +expert was brought back to the stand again, to link the two by means of +fragments found in the car. + +Then Goodham brought Kettle-Belly Sam Bonney to the stand. + +The Mayor of Bonneyville was a man of fifty or so, short, partially +bald, dressed in faded blue Levis, a frayed white shirt, and a +grease-spotted vest. There was absolutely no mystery about how he had +acquired his nickname. He disgorged a cud of tobacco into a spittoon, +took the oath with unctuous solemnity, then reloaded himself with +another chew and told his version of the attack on the jail. + +At about 1045 on the day in question, he testified, he had been in his +office, hard at work in the public service, when an air-car, partially +disabled by gunfire, had landed in the street outside and the three +defendants had rushed in, claiming sanctuary. From then on, the story +flowed along smoothly, following the lines predicted by Captain Nelson +and Parros. Of course he had given the fugitives shelter; they had +claimed to have been near to a political assassination and were in fear +of their lives. + +Under Sidney's cross-examination, and coaching, he poured out the story +of Bonneyville's wrongs at the hands of the reactionary landowners, and +the atrocious behavior of the Hickock goon-gang. Finally, after +extracting the last drop of class-hatred venom out of him, Sidney turned +him over to me. + +"How many men were inside the jail when the three defendants came +claiming sanctuary?" I asked. + +He couldn't rightly say, maybe four or five. + +"Closer twenty-five, according to the Rangers. How many of them were +prisoners in the jail?" + +"Well, none. The prisoners was all turned out that mornin'. They was +just common drunks, disorderly conduct cases, that kinda thing. We +turned them out so's we could make some repairs." + +"You turned them out because you expected to have to defend the jail; +because you knew in advance that these three would be along claiming +sanctuary, and that Colonel Hickock's ranch hands would be right on +their heels, didn't you?" I demanded. + +It took a good five minutes before Sidney stopped shouting long enough +for Judge Nelson to sustain the objection. + +"You knew these young men all their lives, I take it. What did you know +about their financial circumstances, for instance?" + +"Well, they've been ground down an' kept poor by the big ranchers an' +the money-guys...." + +"Then weren't you surprised to see them driving such an expensive +aircar?" + +"I don't know as it's such an expensive--" he shut his mouth suddenly. + +"You know where they got the money to buy that car?" I pressed. + +Kettle-Belly Sam didn't answer. + +"From the man who paid them to murder Ambassador Silas Cumshaw?" I kept +pressing. "Do you know how much they were paid for that job? Do you know +where the money came from? Do you know who the go-between was, and how +much he got, and how much he kept for himself? Was it the same source +that paid for the recent attempt on President Hutchinson's life?" + +"I refuse to answer!" the witness declared, trying to shove his chest +out about half as far as his midriff. "On the grounds that it might +incriminate or degrade me!" + +"You can't degrade a Bonney!" a voice from the balcony put in. + +"So then," I replied to the voice, "what he means is, incriminate." I +turned to the witness. "That will be all. Excused." + +As Bonney left the stand and was led out the side door, Goodham +addressed the bench. + +"Now, Your Honor," he said, "I believe that the prosecution has +succeeded in definitely establishing that these three defendants +actually did fire the shot which, on April 22, 2193, deprived Silas +Cumshaw of his life. We will now undertake to prove...." + +Followed a long succession of witnesses, each testifying to some public +or private act of philanthropy, some noble trait of character. It was +the sort of thing which the defense lawyer in the Whately case had been +so willing to stipulate. Sidney, of course, tried to make it all out to +be part of a sinister conspiracy to establish a Solar League fifth +column on New Texas. Finally, the prosecution rested its case. + +I entertained Gail and her father at the Embassy, that evening. The +street outside was crowded with New Texans, all of them on our side, +shouting slogans like, "Death to the Bonneys!" and "Vengeance for +Cumshaw!" and "Annexation Now!" Some of it was entirely spontaneous, +too. The Hickocks, father and daughter, were given a tremendous ovation, +when they finally left, and followed to their hotel by cheering crowds. +I saw one big banner, lettered: 'DON'T LET NEW TEXAS GO TO THE DOGS.' +and bearing a crude picture of a z'Srauff. I seemed to recall having +seen a couple of our Marines making that banner the evening before in +the Embassy patio, but.... + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +The next morning, the third of the trial, opened with the defense +witnesses, character-witnesses for the three killers and witnesses to +the political iniquities of Silas Cumshaw. + +Neither Goodham nor I bothered to cross-examine the former. I couldn't +see how any lawyer as shrewd as Sidney had shown himself to be would +even dream of getting such an array of thugs, cutthroats, sluts and +slatterns into court as character witnesses for anybody. + +The latter, on the other hand, we went after unmercifully, revealing, +under their enmity for Cumshaw, a small, hard core of bigoted xenophobia +and selfish fear. Goodham did a beautiful job on that; he seemed able, +at a glance, to divine exactly what each witness's motivation was, and +able to make him or her betray that motivation in its least admirable +terms. Finally the defense rested, about a quarter-hour before noon. + +I rose and addressed the court: + +"Your Honor, while both the prosecution and the defense have done an +admirable job in bringing out the essential facts of how my predecessor +met his death, there are many features about this case which are far +from clear to me. They will be even less clear to my government, which +is composed of men who have never set foot on this planet. For this +reason, I wish to call, or recall, certain witnesses to clarify these +points." + +Sidney, who had begun shouting objections as soon as I had gotten to my +feet, finally managed to get himself recognized by the court. + +"This Solar League Ambassador, Your Honor, is simply trying to use the +courts of the Planet of New Texas as a sounding-board for his +imperialistic government's propaganda...." + +"You may reassure yourself, Mr. Sidney," Judge Nelson said. "This court +will not allow itself to be improperly used, or improperly swayed, by +the Ambassador of the Solar League. This court is interested only in +determining the facts regarding the case before it. You may call your +witnesses, Mr. Ambassador." He glanced at his watch. "Court will now +recess for an hour and a half; can you have them here by 1330?" + +I assured him I could after glancing across the room at Ranger Captain +Nelson and catching his nod. + + +My first witness, that afternoon was Thrombley. After the formalities of +getting his name and connection with the Solar League Embassy on the +record, I asked him, "Mr. Thrombley, did you, on the morning of April +22, receive a call from the Hickock ranch for Mr. Cumshaw?" + +"Yes, indeed, Mr. Ambassador. The call was from Mr. Longfellow, Colonel +Hickock's butler. He asked if Mr. Cumshaw were available. It happened +that Mr. Cumshaw was in the same room with me, and he came directly to +the screen. Then Colonel Hickock appeared in the screen, and inquired +if Mr. Cumshaw could come out to the ranch for the day; he said +something about superdove shooting." + +"You heard Mr. Cumshaw tell Colonel Hickock that he would be out at the +ranch at about 1030?" Thrombley said he had. "And, to your knowledge, +did anybody else at the Embassy hear that?" + +"Oh, no, sir; we were in the Ambassador's private office, and the screen +there is tap-proof." + +"And what other calls did you receive, prior to Mr. Cumshaw's death?" + +"About fifteen minutes after Mr. Cumshaw had left, the z'Srauff +Ambassador called, about a personal matter. As he was most anxious to +contact Mr. Cumshaw, I told him where he had gone." + +"Then, to your knowledge, outside of yourself, Colonel Hickock, and his +butler, the z'Srauff Ambassador was the only person who could have known +that Mr. Cumshaw's car would be landing on Colonel Hickock's drive at or +about 1030. Is that correct?" + +"Yes, plus anybody whom the z'Srauff Ambassador might have told." + +"Exactly!" I pounced. Then I turned and gave the three Bonney brothers a +sweeping glance. "Plus anybody the z'Srauff Ambassador might have +told.... That's all. Your witness, Mr. Sidney." + +Sidney got up, started toward the witness stand, and then thought better +of it. + +"No questions," he said. + +The next witness was a Mr. James Finnegan; he was identified as cashier +of the Crooked Creek National Bank. I asked him if Kettle-Belly Sam +Bonney did business at his bank; he said yes. + +"Anything unusual about Mayor Bonney's account?" I asked. + +"Well, it's been unusually active lately. Ordinarily, he carries around +two-three thousand pesos, but about the first of April, that took a big +jump. Quite a big jump; two hundred and fifty thousand pesos, all in a +lump." + +"When did Kettle-Belly Sam deposit this large sum?" I asked. + +"He didn't. The money came to us in a cashier's check on the Ranchers' +Trust Company of New Austin with an anonymous letter asking that it be +deposited to Mayor Bonney's account. The letter was typed on a sheet of +yellow paper in Basic English." + +"Do you have that letter now?" I asked. + +"No, I don't. After we'd recorded the new balance, Kettle-Belly came +storming in, raising hell because we'd recorded it. He told me that if +we ever got another deposit like that, we were to turn it over to him in +cash. Then he wanted to see the letter, and when I gave it to him, he +took it over to a telescreen booth, and drew the curtains. I got a +little busy with some other matters, and the next time I looked, +Kettle-Belly was gone and some girl was using the booth." + +"That's very interesting, Mr. Finnegan. Was that the last of your +unusual business with Mayor Bonney?" + +"Oh, no. Then, about two weeks before Mr. Cumshaw was killed, +Kettle-Belly came in and wanted 50,000 pesos, in a big hurry, in small +bills. I gave it to him, and he grabbed at the money like a starved dog +at a bone, and upset a bottle of red perma-ink, the sort we use to +refill our bank seals. Three of the bills got splashed. I offered to +exchange them, but he said, 'Hell with it; I'm in a hurry,' and went +out. The next day, Switchblade Joe Bonney came in to make payment on a +note we were holding on him. He used those three bills in the payment. + +"Then, about a week ago, there was another cashier's check came in for +Kettle-Belly. This time, there was no letter; just one of our regular +deposit-slips. No name of depositor. I held the check, and gave it to +Kettle-Belly. I remember, when it came in, I said to one of the clerks, +'Well, I wonder who's going to get bumped off this time.' And sure +enough ..." + +Sidney's yell of, "Objection!" was all his previous objections gathered +into one. + +"You say the letter accompanying the first deposit, the one in Basic +English, was apparently taken away by Kettle-Belly Sam Bonney. If you +saw another letter of the same sort, would you be able to say whether or +not it might be like the one you mentioned?" + +Sidney vociferating more objections; I was trying to get expert +testimony without previous qualification.... + +"Not at all, Mr. Sidney," Judge Nelson ruled. "Mr. Silk has merely asked +if Mr. Finnegan could say whether one document bore any resemblance to +another." + +I asked permission to have another witness sworn in while Finnegan was +still on the stand, and called in a Mr. Boone, the cashier of the +Packers' and Brokers' Trust Company of New Austin. He had with him a +letter, typed on yellow paper, which he said had accompanied an +anonymous deposit of two hundred thousand pesos. Mr. Finnegan said that +it was exactly like the one he had received, in typing, grammar and +wording, all but the name of the person to whose account the money was +to be deposited. + +"And whose account received this anonymous benefaction, Mr. Boone?" I +asked. + +"The account," Boone replied, "of Mr. Clement Sidney." + +I was surprised that Judge Nelson didn't break the handle of his gavel, +after that. Finally, after a couple of threats to clear the court, order +was restored. Mr. Sidney had no questions to ask this time, either. + +The bailiff looked at the next slip of paper I gave him, frowned over +it, and finally asked the court for assistance. + +"I can't pronounce this-here thing, at all," he complained. + +One of the judges finally got out a mouthful of growls and yaps, and +gave it to the clerk of the court to copy into the record. The next +witness was a z'Srauff, and in the New Texan garb he was wearing, he was +something to open my eyes, even after years on the Hooligan Diplomats. + +After he took the stand, the clerk of the court looked at him blankly +for a moment. Then he turned to Judge Nelson. + +"Your Honor, how am I gonna go about swearing him in?" he asked. "What +does a z'Srauff swear by, that's binding?" + +The President Judge frowned for a moment. "Does anybody here know Basic +well enough to translate the oath?" he asked. + +"I think I can," I offered. "I spent a great many years in our Consular +Service, before I was sent here. We use Basic with a great many alien +peoples." + +"Administer the oath, then," Nelson told me. + +"Put up right hand," I told the z'Srauff. "Do you truly say, in front of +Great One who made all worlds, who has knowledge of what is in the +hearts of all persons, that what you will say here will be true, all +true, and not anything that is not true, and will you so say again at +time when all worlds end? Do you so truly say?" + +"Yes. I so truly say." + +"Say your name." + +"Ppmegll Kkuvtmmecc Cicici." + +"What is your business?" + +"I put things made of cloth into this world, and I take meat out of this +world." + +"Where do you have your house?" + +"Here in New Austin, over my house of business, on Coronado Street." + +"What people do you see in this place that you have made business with?" + +Ppmegll Kkuvtmmecc Cicici pointed a three-fingered hand at the Bonney +brothers. + +"What business did you make with them?" + +"I gave them for money a machine which goes on the ground and goes in +the air very fast, to take persons and things about." + +"Is that the thing you gave them for money?" I asked, pointing at the +exhibit air-car. + +"Yes, but it was new then. It has been made broken by things from guns +now." + +"What money did they give you for the machine?" + +"One hundred pesos." + +That started another uproar. There wasn't a soul in that courtroom who +didn't know that five thousand pesos would have been a give-away bargain +price for that car. + +"Mr. Ambassador," one of the associate judges interrupted. "I used to be +in the used-car business. Am I expected to believe that this ... this +being ... sold that air-car for a hundred pesos?" + +"Here's a notarized copy of the bill of sale, from the office of the +Vehicles Registration Bureau," I said. "I introduce it as evidence." + +There was a disturbance at the back of the room, and then the z'Srauff +Ambassador, Gglafrr Ddespttann Vuvuvu, came stalking down the aisle, +followed by a couple of Rangers and two of his attachés. He came forward +and addressed the court. + +"May you be happy, sir, but I am in here so quickly not because I have +desire to make noise, but because it is only short time since it got in +my knowledge that one of my persons is in this place. I am here to be of +help to him that he not get in trouble, and to be of help to you. The +name for what I am to do in this place is not part of my knowledge. +Please say it for me." + +"You are a friend of the court," Judge Nelson told him. "An _amicus +curiae_." + +"You make me happy. Please go on; I have no desire to put stop to what +you do in this place." + +"From what person did you get this machine that you gave to these +persons for one hundred pesos?" I asked. + +Gglafrr immediately began barking and snarling and yelping at my +witness. The drygoods importer looked startled, and Judge Nelson banged +with his gavel. + +"That's enough of that! There'll be nothing spoken in this court but +English, except through an interpreter!" + +"Yow! I am sad that what I did was not right," the z'Srauff Ambassador +replied contritely. "But my person here has not as part of his knowledge +that you will make him say what may put him in trouble." + +Nelson nodded in agreement. + +"You are right: this person who is here has no need to make answer to +any question if it may put him in trouble or make him seem less than he +is." + +"I will not make answer," the witness said. + +"No further questions." + +I turned to Goodham, and then to Sidney; they had no questions, either. +I handed another slip of paper to the bailiff, and another z'Srauff, +named Bbrarkk Jjoknyyegg Kekeke took the stand. + +He put into this world things for small persons to make amusement with; +he took out of this world meat and leather. He had his house of business +in New Austin, and he pointed out the three Bonneys as persons in this +place that he saw that he had seen before. + +"And what business did you make with them?" I asked. + +"I gave them for money a gun which sends out things of +twenty-millimeters very fast, to make death or hurt come to men and +animals and does destruction to machines and things." + +"Is this the gun?" I showed it to him. + +"It could be. The gun was made in my world; many guns like it are made +there. I am certain that this is the very gun." + +I had a notarized copy of a customs house bill in which the gun was +described and specified by serial number. I introduced it as evidence. + +"How much money did these three persons give you for this gun?" I asked. + +"Five pesos." + +"The customs appraisal on this gun is six hundred pesos," I mentioned. + +Immediately, Ambassador Vuvuvu was on his feet. "My person here has not +as part of his knowledge that he may put himself in trouble by what he +says to answer these questions." + +That put a stop to that. Bbrarkk Jjoknyyegg Kekeke immediately took +refuge in refusal to answer on grounds of self-incrimination. + +"That is all, Your Honor," I said, "And now," I continued, when the +witness had left the stand, "I have something further to present to the +court, speaking both as _amicus curiae_ and as Ambassador of the Solar +League. This court cannot convict the three men who are here on trial. +These men should have never been brought to trial in this court: it has +no jurisdiction over this case. This was a simple case of first-degree +murder, by hired assassins, committed against the Ambassador of one +government at the instigation of another, not an act of political +protest within the meaning of New Texan law." + +There was a brief silence; both the court and the spectators were +stunned, and most stunned of all were the three Bonney brothers, who had +been watching, fear-sick, while I had been putting a rope around their +necks. The uproar from the rear of the courtroom gave Judge Nelson a +needed minute or so to collect his thoughts. After he had gotten order +restored, he turned to me, grim-faced. + +"Ambassador Silk, will you please elaborate on the extraordinary +statement you have just made," he invited, as though every word had +sharp corners that were sticking in his throat. + +"Gladly, Your Honor." My words, too, were gouging and scraping my throat +as they came out; I could feel my knees getting absurdly weak, and my +mouth tasted as though I had an old copper penny in it. + +"As I understand it, the laws of New Texas do not extend their ordinary +protection to persons engaged in the practice of politics. An act of +personal injury against a politician is considered criminal only to the +extent that the politician injured has not, by his public acts, deserved +the degree of severity with which he has been injured, and the Court of +Political Justice is established for the purpose of determining whether +or not there has been such an excess of severity in the treatment meted +out by the accused to the injured or deceased politician. This gives +rise, of course, to some interesting practices; for instance, what is at +law a trial of the accused is, in substance, a trial of his victim. But +in any case tried in this court, the accused must be a person who has +injured or killed a man who is definable as a practicing politician +under the government of New Texas. + +"Speaking for my government, I must deny that these men should have been +tried in this court for the murder of Silas Cumshaw. To do otherwise +would establish the principle and precedent that our Ambassador, or any +other Ambassador here, is a practicing politician under--mark that well, +Your Honor--under the laws and government of New Texas. This would not +only make of any Ambassador a permissable target for any marksman who +happened to disapprove of the policies of another government, but more +serious, it would place the Ambassador and his government in a +subordinate position relative to the government of New Texas. This the +government of the Solar League simply cannot tolerate, for reasons which +it would be insulting to the intelligence of this court to enumerate." + +"Mr. Silk," Judge Nelson said gravely. "This court takes full cognizance +of the force of your arguments. However, I'd like to know why you +permitted this trial to run to this length before entering this +objection. Surely you could have made clear the position of your +government at the beginning of this trial." + +"Your Honor," I said, "had I done so, these defendants would have been +released, and the facts behind their crime would have never come to +light. I grant that the important function of this court is to determine +questions of relative guilt and innocence. We must not lose sight, +however, of the fact that the primary function of any court is to +determine the truth, and only by the process of the trial of these +depraved murderers-for-hire could the real author of the crime be +uncovered. + +"This was important, both for the government of the Solar League and the +government of New Texas. My government now knows who procured the death +of Silas Cumshaw, and we will take appropriate action. The government +of New Texas has now had spelled out, in letters anyone can read, the +fact that this beautiful planet is in truth a _battleground_. Awareness +of this may save New Texas from being the scene of a larger and more +destructive battle. New Texas also knows who are its enemies, and who +can be counted upon to stand as its friends." + +"Yes, Mr. Silk. Mr. Vuvuvu, I haven't heard any comment from you.... No +comment? Well, we'll have to close the court, to consider this phase of +the question." + +The black screen slid up, for the second time during the trial. There +was silence for a moment, and then the room became a bubbling pot of +sound. At least six fights broke out among the spectators within three +minutes; the Rangers and court bailiffs were busy restoring order. + +Gail Hickock, who had been sitting on the front row of the spectators' +seats, came running up while I was still receiving the congratulations +of my fellow diplomats. + +"Stephen! How _could_ you?" she demanded. "You know what you've done? +You've gotten those murdering snakes turned loose!" + +Andrew Jackson Hickock left the prosecution table and approached. + +"Mr. Silk! You've just secured the freedom of three men who murdered one +of my best friends!" + +"Colonel Hickock, I believe I knew Silas Cumshaw before you did. He was +one of my instructors at Dumbarton Oaks, and I have always had the +deepest respect and admiration for him. But he taught me one thing, +which you seem to have forgotten since you expatriated yourself--that +in the Diplomatic Service, personal feelings don't count. The only +thing of importance is the advancement of the policies of the Solar +League." + +"Silas and I were attachés together, at the old Embassy at Drammool, on +Altair II," Colonel Hickock said. What else he might have said was lost +in the sudden exclamation as the black screen slid down. In front of +Judge Nelson, I saw, there were three pistol-belts, and three pairs of +automatics. + +"Switchblade Joe Bonney, Jack-High Abe Bonney, Turkey-Buzzard Tom +Bonney, together with your counsel, approach the court and hear the +verdict," Judge Nelson said. + +The three defendants and their lawyer rose. The Bonneys were swaggering +and laughing, but for a lawyer whose clients had just emerged from the +shadow of the gallows, Sidney was looking remarkably unhappy. He +probably had imagination enough to see what would be waiting for him +outside. + +"It pains me inexpressibly," Judge Nelson said, "to inform you three +that this court cannot convict you of the cowardly murder of that +learned and honorable old man, Silas Cumshaw, nor can you be brought to +trial in any other court on New Texas again for that dastardly crime. +Here are your weapons, which must be returned to you. Sort them out +yourselves, because I won't dirty my fingers on them. And may you regret +and feel shame for your despicable act as long as you live, which I hope +won't be more than a few hours." + +With that, he used the end of his gavel to push the three belts off the +bench and onto the floor at the Bonneys' feet. They stood laughing at +him for a few moments, then stopped, picked the belts up, drew the +pistols to check magazines and chambers, and then began slapping each +others' backs and shouting jubilant congratulations at one another. +Sidney's two assistants and some of his friends came up and began +pumping Sidney's hands. + +"There!" Gail flung at me. "Now look at your masterpiece! Why don't you +go up and congratulate him, too?" + +And with that, she slapped me across the face. It hurt like the devil; +she was a lot stronger than I'd expected. + +"In about two minutes," I told her, "you can apologize to me for that, +or weep over my corpse. Right now, though, you'd better be getting +behind something solid." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +I turned and stepped forward to confront the Bonneys, mentally thanking +Gail. Up until she'd slapped me, I'd been weak-kneed and dry-mouthed +with what I had to do. Now I was just plain angry, and I found that I +was thinking a lot more clearly. Jack-High Bonney's wounded left +shoulder, I knew, wouldn't keep him from using his gun hand, but his +shoulder muscles would be stiff enough to slow his draw. I'd intended +saving him until I'd dealt with his brothers. Now, I remembered how he'd +gotten that wound in the first place: he'd been the one who'd used the +auto-rifle, out at the Hickock ranch. So I changed my plans and moved +him up to top priority. + +"Hold it!" I yelled at them. "You've been cleared of killing a +politician, but you still have killing a Solar League Ambassador to +answer for. Now get your hands full of guns, if you don't want to die +with them empty!" + +The crowd of sympathizers and felicitators simply exploded away from the +Bonney brothers. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sidney and a fat, +blowsy woman with brass-colored hair as they both tried to dive under +the friends-of-the-court table at the same place. The Bonney brothers +simply stood and stared at me, for an instant, unbelievingly, as I got +my thumbs on the release-studs of my belt. Judge Nelson's gavel was +hammering, and he was shouting: + +"Court-of-Political-Justice-Confederate-Continent-of-New-Texas-is-herewith- +adjourned-reconvene-0900-tomorrow. _Hit the floor!_" + +"Damn! He means it!" Switchblade Joe Bonney exclaimed. + +Then they all reached for their guns. They were still reaching when I +pressed the studs and the Krupp-Tattas popped up into my hands, and I +swung up my right-hand gun and shot Jack-High through the head. After +that, I just let my subconscious take over. I saw gun flames jump out at +me from the Bonneys' weapons, and I felt my own pistols leap and writhe +in my hands, but I don't believe I was aware of hearing the shots, not +even from my own weapons. The whole thing probably lasted five seconds, +but it seemed like twenty minutes to me. Then there was nobody shooting +at me, and nobody for me to shoot at; the big room was silent, and I was +aware that Judge Nelson and his eight associates were rising cautiously +from behind the bench. + +I holstered my left-hand gun, removed and replaced the magazine of the +right-hand gun, then holstered it and reloaded the other one. Hoddy +Ringo and Francisco Parros and Commander Stonehenge were on their feet, +their pistols drawn, covering the spectators' seats. Colonel Hickock had +also drawn a pistol and he was covering Sidney with it, occasionally +moving the muzzle to the left to include the z'Srauff Ambassador and his +two attachés. + +By this time, Nelson and the other eight judges were in their seats, +trying to look calm and judicial. + +"Your Honor," I said, "I fully realize that no judge likes to have his +court turned into a shooting gallery. I can assure you, however, that my +action here was not the result of any lack of respect for this court. It +was pure necessity. Your Honor can see that: my government could not +permit this crime against its Ambassador to pass unpunished." + +Judge Nelson nodded solemnly. "Court was adjourned when this little +incident happened, Mr. Silk," he said. + +He leaned forward and looked to where the three Bonney brothers were +making a mess of blood on the floor. "I trust that nobody will construe +my unofficial and personal comments here as establishing any legal +precedent, and I wouldn't like to see this sort of thing become +customary ... but ... you did that all by yourself, with those little +beanshooters?... Not bad, not bad at all, Mr. Silk." + +I thanked him, then turned to the z'Srauff Ambassador. I didn't bother +putting my remarks into Basic. He understood, as well as I did, what I +was saying. + +"Look, Fido," I told him, "my government is quite well aware of the +source from which the orders for the murder of my predecessor came. +These men I just killed were only the tools. + +"We're going to get the brains behind them, if we have to send every +warship we own into the z'Srauff star-cluster and devastate every planet +in it. We don't let dogs snap at us. And when they do, we don't kick +them, we shoot them!" + +That, of course, was not exactly striped-pants diplomatic language. I +wondered, for a moment, what Norman Gazarian, the protocol man, would +think if he heard an Ambassador calling another Ambassador Fido. + +But it seemed to be the kind of language that Mr. Vuvuvu understood. He +skinned back his upper lip at me and began snarling and growling. Then +he turned on his hind paws and padded angrily down the aisle away from +the front of the courtroom. + +The spectators around him and above him began barking, baying, yelping +at him: "Tie a can to his tail!" "Git for home, Bruno!" + +Then somebody yelled, "Hey, look! Even his wrist watch is blushing!" + +That was perfectly true. Mr. Gglafrr Ddespttann Vuvuvu's watch-face, +normally white, was now glowing a bright ruby-red. + +I looked at Stonehenge and found him looking at me. It would be full +dark in four or five hours; there ought to be something spectacular to +see in the cloudless skies of Capella IV tonight. + +Fleet Admiral Sir Rodney Tregaskis would see to that. + + +_FROM REPORT +OF SPACE-COMMANDER STONEHENGE +TO SECRETARY OF AGGRESSION, KLÜNG: + +... so the measures considered by yourself +and Secretary of State Ghopal Singh and Security +Coördinator Natalenko, as transmitted to me by +Mr. Hoddy Ringo, were not, I am glad to say, +needed. Ambassador Silk, alive, handled the +thing much better than Ambassador Silk, dead, +could possibly have. + +... to confirm Sir Rodney Tregaskis' report from the tales of the few +survivors, the z'Srauff attack came as the Ambassador had expected. They +dropped out of hyperspace about seventy light-minutes outside the +Capella system, apparently in complete ignorance of the presence of our +fleet. + +... have learned the entire fleet consisted of about three hundred +spaceships and reports reaching here indicate that no more than twenty +got back to z'Srauff Cluster. + +... naturally, the whole affair has had a profound influence, an +influence to the benefit of the Solar League, on all shades of public +opinion. + +... as you properly assumed, Mr. Hoddy Ringo is no longer with us. When +it became apparent that the Palme-Silk Annexation Treaty would be +ratified here, Mr. Ringo immediately saw that his status of diplomatic +immunity would automatically terminate. Accordingly, he left this +system, embarking from New Austin for Alderbaran IX, mentioning, as he +shook hands with me, something about a widow. By a curious coincidence, +the richest branch bank in the city was held up by a lone bandit about +half an hour before he boarded the space-ship...._ + + +_FINAL MESSAGE +OF THE LAST SOLAR AMBASSADOR TO NEW +TEXAS +STEPHEN SILK + +Copies of the Treaty of Annexation, duly ratified by the New Texas +Legislature, herewith. + +Please note that the guarantees of non-intervention in local political +institutions are the very minimum which are acceptable to the people of +New Texas. They are especially adamant that there will be no change in +their peculiar methods of insuring that their elected and appointed +public officials shall be responsible to the electorate. + + DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM + +_After the ratification of the Palme-Silk treaty, Mr. Silk remained on +New Texas, married the daughter of a local rancher there (see file on +First Ambassador, Colonel Andrew Jackson Hickock) and is still active in +politics on that planet, often in opposition to Solar League policies, +which he seems to anticipate with an almost uncanny prescience._ + + +Natalenko re-read the addendum, pursed his thick lips and sighed. There +were so many ways he could be using Mr. Stephen Silk.... + +For example--he looked at the tri-di star-map, both usefully and +beautifully decorating his walls--over there, where Hoddy Ringo had +gone, near Alderbaran IX. + +Those were twin planets, one apparently settled by the equivalent +descendants of the Edwards and the other inhabited by the children of a +Jukes-Kallikak union. Even the Solar League Ambassadors there had taken +the viewpoints of the planets to whom they were accredited, instead of +the all-embracing view which their training should have given them.... + +Curious problem ... and, how would Stephen Silk have handled it? + +The Security Coördinator scrawled a note comprehensible only to +himself.... + + + + + +Brilliant New Novel from Award-Winning Author of Alien Embassy! + +In MIRACLE VISITORS, Ian Watson has created a fascinating novel that +explores the UFO phenomenon, a novel that will endlessly intrigue and +envelop the reader. $1.95 + +[Illustration: Book Cover] + +Available wherever books are sold, or order by mail from Book Mailing +Service, Box 690, Rockville Centre, N.Y. 11571. Please add 50˘ postage +and handling. 109 + + +ACE SCIENCE FICTION 360 PARK AVENUE SOUTH · NEW YORK, N.Y. 10010 + + + + + +Zero Population Growth Achieved! + +But at what cost? The world now exists with a mandatory abortion law and +sexual freedom reigns. Is this truly a world where ... LOVE CONQUERS ALL + +$1.95 + +[Illustration: Book Cover] + +Available wherever books are sold, or order by mail from Book Mailing +Service, Box 690, Rockville Centre, N.Y. 11571. Please add 50˘ postage +and handling. 110 + + +ACE SCIENCE FICTION 360 PARK AVENUE SOUTH ·NEW YORK, N.Y. 10010 + + + + + +Four-Day Planet + +Fenris isn't a hell planet, but it's nobody's bargain. With 2,000-hour +days and an 8,000-hour year, it alternates blazing heat with killing +cold. A planet like that tends to breed a special kind of person: tough +enough to stay alive and smart enough to make the best of it. When that +kind of person discovers he's being cheated of wealth he's risked his +life for, that kind of planet is ripe for revolution. + + +Lone Star Planet + +New Texas: its citizens figure that name about says it all. The Solar +League ambassador to the Lone Star Planet has the unenviable task of +convincing New Texans that a s'Srauff attack is imminent, and dangerous. +Unfortunately it's common knowledge that the s'Srauff are evolved from +canine ancestors--and not a Texan alive is about to be scared of a +talking dog! But unless he can get them to act, and fast, there won't be +a Texan alive, scared or otherwise! + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lone Star Planet +by Henry Beam Piper and John Joseph McGuire + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LONE STAR PLANET *** + +***** This file should be named 20121-8.txt or 20121-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/1/2/20121/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Malcolm Farmer, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Beam Piper and John J. McGuire. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + .break {font-size: 0.0001em} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lone Star Planet +by Henry Beam Piper and John Joseph McGuire + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Lone Star Planet + +Author: Henry Beam Piper and John Joseph McGuire + +Release Date: January 3, 2007 [EBook #20121] +[This file was first posted on December 16, 2006] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LONE STAR PLANET *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Malcolm Farmer, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<h1>Lone Star Planet</h1> +<h3>by</h3> +<h2>H. Beam Piper</h2> +<h3>and</h3> +<h2>John J. McGuire</h2> + +<div class="bbox"> +<h3>Transcriber's Note</h3> +<p> +This etext was prepared from a 1979 reprint of the 1958 original. There is no +evidence that the copyright on this publication was renewed.<br /> +Obvious typesetting errors in the source text have been corrected</p></div> + +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI</b></a><br /> +</p> + +<hr /> +<h1>Lone Star Planet</h1> + +<p class="center"> +SF<br /> +ace books<br /> +A Division of Charter Communications Inc.<br /> +A GROSSET & DUNLAP COMPANY<br /> +360 Park Avenue South<br /> +New York, New York 10010<br /> +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"> +LONE STAR PLANET <br /> +<br /> +Copyright © 1958 by Ace Books, Inc.<br /> +<br /> +Originally published as A PLANET FOR TEXANS<br /> +<br /> +All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form +or by any means, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a +review, without permission in writing from the publisher.<br /> +<br /> +All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual +persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.<br /> +<br /> +This Ace Printing: April 1979<br /> +<br /> +Printed in U.S.A. +</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h3> + + +<p>They started giving me the business as soon as I came through the door +into the Secretary's outer office.</p> + +<p>There was Ethel K'wang-Li, the Secretary's receptionist, at her desk. +There was Courtlant Staynes, the assistant secretary to the +Undersecretary for Economic Penetration, and Norman Gazarin, from +Protocol, and Toby Lawder, from Humanoid Peoples' Affairs, and Raoul +Chavier, and Hans Mannteufel, and Olga Reznik.</p> + +<p>It was a wonder there weren't more of them watching the condemned man's +march to the gibbet: the word that the Secretary had called me in must +have gotten all over the Department since the offices had opened.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Mr. Machiavelli, I presume," Ethel kicked off.</p> + +<p>"Machiavelli, Junior." Olga picked up the ball. "At least, that's the +way he signs it."</p> + +<p>"God's gift to the Consular Service, and the Consular Service's gift to +Policy Planning," Gazarin added.</p> + +<p>"Take it easy, folks. These Hooligan Diplomats would as soon shoot you +as look at you," Mannteufel warned.</p> + +<p>"Be sure and tell the Secretary that your friends all want important +posts in the Galactic Empire." Olga again.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm glad some of you could read it," I fired back. "Maybe even a +few of you understood what it was all about."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry, Silk," Gazarin told me. "Secretary Ghopal understands what +it was all about. All too well, you'll find."</p> + +<p>A buzzer sounded gently on Ethel K'wang-Li's desk. She snatched up the +handphone and whispered into it. A deathly silence filled the room while +she listened, whispered some more, then hung it up.</p> + +<p>They were all staring at me.</p> + +<p>"Secretary Ghopal is ready to see Mr. Stephen Silk," she said. "This +way, please."</p> + +<p>As I started across the room, Staynes began drumming on the top of the +desk with his fingers, the slow reiterated rhythm to which a man marches +to a military execution.</p> + +<p>"A cigarette?" Lawder inquired tonelessly. "A glass of rum?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 50%;"/> + +<p>There were three men in the Secretary of State's private office. Ghopal +Singh, the Secretary, dark-faced, gray-haired, slender and elegant, +meeting me halfway to his desk. Another slender man, in black, with a +silver-threaded, black neck-scarf: Rudolf Klüng, the Secretary of the +Department of Aggression.</p> + +<p>And a huge, gross-bodied man with a fat baby-face and opaque black eyes.</p> + +<p>When I saw him, I really began to get frightened.</p> + +<p>The fat man was Natalenko, the Security Coördinator.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Mister Silk," Secretary Ghopal greeted me, his hand +extended. "Gentlemen, Mr. Stephen Silk, about whom we were speaking. +This way, Mr. Silk, if you please."</p> + +<p>There was a low coffee-table at the rear of the office, and four easy +chairs around it. On the round brass table-top were cups and saucers, a +coffee urn, cigarettes—and a copy of the current issue of the <i>Galactic +Statesmen's Journal</i>, open at an article entitled <i>Probable Future +Courses of Solar League Diplomacy</i>, by somebody who had signed himself +Machiavelli, Jr.</p> + +<p>I was beginning to wish that the pseudonymous Machiavelli, Jr. had never +been born, or, at least, had stayed on Theta Virgo IV and been a +wineberry planter as his father had wanted him to be.</p> + +<p>As I sat down and accepted a cup of coffee, I avoided looking at the +periodical. They were probably going to hang it around my neck before +they shoved me out of the airlock.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Silk is, as you know, in our Consular Service," Ghopal was saying +to the others. "Back on Luna on rotation, doing something in Mr. +Halvord's section. He is the gentleman who did such a splendid job for +us on Assha—Gamma Norma III.</p> + +<p>"And, as he has just demonstrated," he added, gesturing toward the +<i>Statesman's Journal</i> on the Benares-work table, "he is a student both +of the diplomacy of the past and the implications of our present +policies."</p> + +<p>"A bit frank," Klüng commented dubiously.</p> + +<p>"But judicious," Natalenko squeaked, in the high eunuchoid voice that +came so incongruously from his bulk. "He aired his singularly accurate +predictions in a periodical that doesn't have a circulation of more than +a thousand copies outside his own department. And I don't think the +public's semantic reactions to the terminology of imperialism is as bad +as you imagine. They seem quite satisfied, now, with the change in the +title of your department, from Defense to Aggression."</p> + +<p>"Well, we've gone into that, gentlemen," Ghopal said. "If the article +really makes trouble for us, we can always disavow it. There's no +censorship of the <i>Journal</i>. And Mr. Silk won't be around to draw fire +on us."</p> + +<p><i>Here it comes</i>, I thought.</p> + +<p>"That sounds pretty ominous, doesn't it, Mr. Silk?" Natalenko tittered +happily, like a ten-year-old who has just found a new beetle to pull the +legs out of.</p> + +<p>"It's really not as bad as it sounds, Mr. Silk," Ghopal hastened to +reassure me. "We are going to have to banish you for a while, but I +daresay that won't be so bad. The social life here on Luna has probably +begun to pall, anyhow. So we're sending you to Capella IV."</p> + +<p>"Capella IV," I repeated, trying to remember something about it. Capella +was a GO-type, like Sol; that wouldn't be so bad.</p> + +<p>"New Texas," Klüng helped me out.</p> + +<p><i>Oh, God, no!</i> I thought.</p> + +<p>"It happens that we need somebody of your sort on that planet, Mr. +Silk," Ghopal said. "Some of the trouble is in my department and some of +it is in Mr. Klüng's; for that reason, perhaps it would be better if +Coördinator Natalenko explained it to you."</p> + +<p>"You know, I assume, our chief interest in New Texas?" Natalenko asked.</p> + +<p>"I had some of it for breakfast, sir," I replied. "Supercow."</p> + +<p>Natalenko tittered again. "Yes, New Texas is the butcher shop of the +galaxy. In more ways than one, I'm afraid you'll find. They just +butchered one of our people there a short while ago. Our Ambassador, in +fact."</p> + +<p>That would be Silas Cumshaw, and this was the first I'd heard about it.</p> + +<p>I asked when it had happened.</p> + +<p>"A couple of months ago. We just heard about it last evening, when the +news came in on a freighter from there. Which serves to point up +something you stressed in your article—the difficulties of trying to +run a centralized democratic government on a galactic scale. But we have +another interest, which may be even more urgent than our need for New +Texan meat. You've heard, of course, of the z'Srauff."</p> + +<p>That was a statement, not a question; Natalenko wasn't trying to insult +me. I knew who the z'Srauff were; I'd run into them, here and there. One +of the extra-solar intelligent humanoid races, who seemed to have been +evolved from canine or canine-like ancestors, instead of primates. Most +of them could speak Basic English, but I never saw one who would admit +to understanding more of our language than the 850-word Basic +vocabulary. They occupied a half-dozen planets in a small star-cluster +about forty light-years beyond the Capella system. They had developed +normal-space reaction-drive ships before we came into contact with +them, and they had quickly picked up the hyperspace-drive from us back +in those days when the Solar League was still playing Missionaries of +Progress and trying to run a galaxy-wide Point-Four program.</p> + +<p>In the past century, it had become almost impossible for anybody to get +into their star-group, although z'Srauff ships were orbiting in on every +planet that the League had settled or controlled. There were z'Srauff +traders and small merchants all over the galaxy, and you almost never +saw one of them without a camera. Their little meteor-mining boats were +everywhere, and all of them carried more of the most modern radar and +astrogational equipment than a meteor-miner's lifetime earnings would +pay for.</p> + +<p>I also knew that they were one of the chief causes of ulcers and +premature gray hair at the League capital on Luna. I'd done a little +reading on pre-spaceflight Terran history; I had been impressed by the +parallel between the present situation and one which had culminated, two +and a half centuries before, on the morning of 7 December, 1941.</p> + +<p>"What," Natalenko inquired, "do you think Machiavelli, Junior would do +about the z'Srauff?"</p> + +<p>"We have a Department of Aggression," I replied. "Its mottoes are, 'Stop +trouble before it starts,' and, 'If we have to fight, let's do it on the +other fellow's real estate.' But this situation is just a little too +delicate for literal application of those principles. An unprovoked +attack on the z'Srauff would set every other non-human race in the +galaxy against us.... Would an attack by the z'Srauff on New Texas +constitute just provocation?"</p> + +<p>"It might. New Texas is an independent planet. Its people are +descendants of emigrants from Terra who wanted to get away from the rule +of the Solar League. We've been trying for half a century to persuade +the New Texan government to join the League. We need their planet, for +both strategic and commercial reasons. With the z'Srauff for neighbors, +they need us as much at least as we need them. The problem is to make +them understand that."</p> + +<p>I nodded again. "And an attack by the z'Srauff would do that, too, sir," +I said.</p> + +<p>Natalenko tittered again. "You see, gentlemen! Our Mr. Silk picks things +up very handily, doesn't he?" He turned to Secretary of State Ghopal. +"You take it from there," he invited.</p> + +<p>Ghopal Singh smiled benignly. "Well, that's it, Stephen," he said. "We +need a man on New Texas who can get things done. Three things, to be +exact.</p> + +<p>"First, find out why poor Mr. Cumshaw was murdered, and what can be done +about it to maintain our prestige without alienating the New Texans.</p> + +<p>"Second, bring the government and people of New Texas to a realization +that they need the Solar League as much as we need them.</p> + +<p>"And, third, forestall or expose the plans for the z'Srauff invasion of +New Texas."</p> + +<p><i>Is that all, now?</i> I thought. <i>He doesn't want a diplomat; he wants a +magician.</i></p> + +<p>"And what," I asked, "will my official position be on New Texas, sir? Or +will I have one, of any sort?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, indeed, Mr. Silk. Your official position will be that of +Ambassador Plenipotentiary and Envoy Extraordinary. That, I believe, is +the only vacancy which exists in the Diplomatic Service on that planet."</p> + +<p>At Dumbarton Oaks Diplomatic Academy, they haze the freshmen by making +them sit on a one-legged stool and balance a teacup and saucer on one +knee while the upper classmen pelt them with ping-pong balls. Whoever +invented that and the other similar forms of hazing was one of the great +geniuses of the Service. So I sipped my coffee, set down the cup, took a +puff from my cigarette, then said:</p> + +<p>"I am indeed deeply honored, Mr. Secretary. I trust I needn't go into +any assurances that I will do everything possible to justify your trust +in me."</p> + +<p>"I believe he will, Mr. Secretary," Natalenko piped, in a manner that +chilled my blood.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I believe so," Ghopal Singh said. "Now, Mr. Ambassador, there's a +liner in orbit two thousand miles off Luna, which has been held from +blasting off for the last eight hours, waiting for you. Don't bother +packing more than a few things; you can get everything you'll need +aboard, or at New Austin, the planetary capital. We have a man whom +Coördinator Natalenko has secured for us, a native New Texan, Hoddy +Ringo by name. He'll act as your personal secretary. He's aboard the +ship now. You'll have to hurry, I'm afraid.... Well, <i>bon voyage</i>, Mr. +Ambassador."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h3> + + +<p>The death-watch outside had grown to about fifteen or twenty. They were +all waiting in happy anticipation as I came out of the Secretary's +office.</p> + +<p>"What did he do to you, Silk?" Courtlant Staynes asked, amusedly.</p> + +<p>"Demoted me. Kicked me off the Hooligan Diplomats," I said glumly.</p> + +<p>"Demoted you from the Consular Service?" Staynes asked scornfully. +"Impossible!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. He demoted me to the Cookie Pushers. Clear down to Ambassador."</p> + +<p>They got a terrific laugh. I went out, wondering what sort of noises +they'd make, the next morning, when the appointments sheet was posted.</p> + +<hr style="width: 50%;"/> + +<p>I gathered a few things together, mostly small personal items, and all +the microfilms that I could find on New Texas, then got aboard the Space +Navy cutter that was waiting to take me to the ship. It was a four-hour +trip and I put in the time going over my hastily-assembled microfilm +library and using a stenophone to dictate a reading list for the +spacetrip.</p> + +<p>As I rolled up the stenophone-tape, I wondered what sort of secretary +they had given me; and, in passing, why Natalenko's department had +furnished him.</p> + +<p>Hoddy Ringo....</p> + +<p>Queer name, but in a galactic civilization, you find all sorts of names +and all sorts of people bearing them, so I was prepared for anything.</p> + +<p>And I found it.</p> + +<p>I found him standing with the ship's captain, inside the airlock, when I +boarded the big, spherical space-liner. A tubby little man, with +shoulders and arms he had never developed doing secretarial work, and a +good-natured, not particularly intelligent face.</p> + +<p><i>See the happy moron, he doesn't give a damn</i>, I thought.</p> + +<p>Then I took a second look at him. He might be happy, but he wasn't a +moron. He just looked like one. Natalenko's people often did, as one of +their professional assets.</p> + +<p>I also noticed that he had a bulge under his left armpit the size of an +eleven-mm army automatic.</p> + +<p>He was, I'd been told, a native of New Texas. I gathered, after talking +with him for a while, that he had been away from his home planet for +over five years, was glad to be going back, and especially glad that he +was going back under the protection of Solar League diplomatic immunity.</p> + +<p>In fact, I rather got the impression that, without such protection, he +wouldn't have been going back at all.</p> + +<p>I made another discovery. My personal secretary, it seemed, couldn't +read stenotype. I found that out when I gave him the tape I'd dictated +aboard the cutter, to transcribe for me.</p> + +<p>"Gosh, boss. I can't make anything out of this stuff," he confessed, +looking at the combination shorthand-Braille that my voice had put onto +the tape.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, put it in a player and transcribe it by ear," I told him.</p> + +<p>He didn't seem to realize that that could be done.</p> + +<p>"How did you come to be sent as my secretary, if you can't do +secretarial work?" I wanted to know.</p> + +<p>He got out a bag of tobacco and a book of papers and began rolling a +cigarette, with one hand.</p> + +<p>"Why, shucks, boss, nobody seemed to think I'd have to do this kinda +work," he said. "I was just sent along to show you the way around New +Texas, and see you don't get inta no trouble."</p> + +<p>He got his handmade cigarette drawing, and hitched the strap that went +across his back and looped under his right arm. "A guy that don't know +the way around can get inta a lotta trouble on New Texas. If you call +gettin' killed trouble."</p> + +<p>So he was a bodyguard ... and I wondered what else he was. One thing, it +would take him forty-two years to send a radio message back to Luna, and +I could keep track of any other messages he sent, in letters or on tape, +by ships. In the end, I transcribed my own tape, and settled down to +laying out my three weeks' study-course on my new post.</p> + +<p>I found, however, that the whole thing could be learned in a few hours. +The rest of what I had was duplication, some of it contradictory, and it +all boiled down to this:</p> + +<p>Capella IV had been settled during the first wave of extrasolar +colonization, after the Fourth World—or First Interplanetary—War. +Some time around 2100. The settlers had come from a place in North +America called Texas, one of the old United States. They had a lengthy +history—independent republic, admission to the United States, secession +from the United States, reconquest by the United States, and general +intransigence under the United States, the United Nations and the Solar +League. When the laws of non-Einsteinian physics were discovered and the +hyperspace-drive was developed, practically the entire population of +Texas had taken to space to find a new home and independence from +everybody.</p> + +<p>They had found Capella IV, a Terra-type planet, with a slightly higher +mean temperature, a lower mass and lower gravitational field, about +one-quarter water and three-quarters land-surface, at a stage of +evolutionary development approximately that of Terra during the late +Pliocene. They also found supercow, a big mammal looking like the +unsuccessful attempt of a hippopotamus to impersonate a dachshund and +about the size of a nuclear-steam locomotive. On New Texas' plains, +there were billions of them; their meat was fit for the gods of Olympus. +So New Texas had become the meat-supplier to the galaxy.</p> + +<p>There was very little in any of the microfilm-books about the politics +of New Texas and such as it was, it was very scornful. There were such +expressions as 'anarchy tempered by assassination,' and 'grotesque +parody of democracy.'</p> + +<p>There would, I assumed, be more exact information in the material which +had been shoved into my hand just before boarding the cutter from Luna, +in a package labeled <i>TOP SECRET: TO BE OPENED ONLY IN SPACE, AFTER THE +FIRST HYPERJUMP.</i> There was also a big trunk that had been placed in my +suite, sealed and bearing the same instructions.</p> + +<p>I got Hoddy out of the suite as soon as the ship had passed out of the +normal space-time continuum, locked the door of my cabin and opened the +parcel.</p> + +<p>It contained only two loose-leaf notebooks, both labeled with the Solar +League and Department seals, both adorned with the customary +bloodthirsty threats against the unauthorized and the indiscreet. They +were numbered <i>ONE</i> and <i>TWO</i>.</p> + +<p><i>ONE</i> contained four pages. On the first, I read:</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>FINAL MESSAGE<br /> +OF THE FIRST SOLAR LEAGUE AMBASSADOR<br /> +TO<br /> +NEW TEXAS<br /> +ANDREW JACKSON HICKOCK</i><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>I agree with none of the so-called information about this planet +on file with the State Department on Luna. The people of New Texas +are certainly not uncouth barbarians. Their manners and customs, +while lively and unconventional, are most charming. Their dress is +graceful and practical, not grotesque; their soft speech is +pleasing to the ear. Their flag is the original flag of the +Republic of Texas; it is definitely not a barbaric travesty of our +own emblem. And the underlying premises of their political system +should, as far as possible, be incorporated into the organization +of the Solar League. Here politics is an exciting and exacting +game, in which only the true representative of all the people can +survive.</i></p></div> + +<p class="center"><i>DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>After five years on New Texas, Andrew Jackson Hickock resigned, +married a daughter of a local rancher and became a naturalized +citizen of that planet. He is still active in politics there, often +in opposition to Solar League policies.</i></p></div> + +<p>That didn't sound like too bad an advertisement for the planet. I was +even feeling cheerful when I turned to the next page, and:</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>FINAL MESSAGE<br /> +OF THE SECOND SOLAR LEAGUE<br /> +AMBASSADOR TO<br /> +NEW TEXAS<br /> +CYRIL GODWINSON</i><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Yes and no; perhaps and perhaps not; pardon me; I agree with +everything you say. Yes and no; perhaps and perhaps not; pardon me; +I agree....</i></p></div> + +<p class="center"><i>DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>After seven years on New Texas, Ambassador Godwinson was recalled; +adjudged hopelessly insane.</i></p></div> + +<p>And then:</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>FINAL MESSAGE<br /> +OF THE THIRD SOLAR LEAGUE<br /> +AMBASSADOR TO NEW TEXAS<br /> +R. F. GULLIS</i><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>I find it very pleasant to inform you that when +you are reading this, I will be dead.</i></p></div> + +<p class="center"><i>DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Committed suicide after six months on New Texas.</i></p></div> + +<p>I turned to the last page cautiously, found:</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>FINAL MESSAGE<br /> +OF THE FOURTH SOLAR LEAGUE<br /> +AMBASSADOR TO NEW TEXAS<br /> +SILAS CUMSHAW</i><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>I came to this planet ten years ago as a man of pronounced and +outspoken convictions. I have managed to keep myself alive here by +becoming an inoffensive nonentity. If I continue in this course, it +will be only at the cost of my self-respect. Beginning tonight, I +am going to state and maintain positive opinions on the relation +between this planet and the Solar League.</i></p></div> + +<p class="center"><i>DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Murdered at the home of Andrew J. Hickock. (see p. 1.)</i></p></div> + +<p>And that was the end of the first notebook. Nice, cheerful reading; +complete, solid briefing.</p> + +<p>I was, frankly, almost afraid to open the second notebook. I hefted it +cautiously at first, saw that it contained only about as many pages as +the first and that those pages were sealed with a band around them.</p> + +<p>I took a quick peek, read the words on the band:</p> + +<p><i>Before reading, open the sealed trunk which has been included with your +luggage.</i></p> + +<p>So I laid aside the book and dragged out the sealed trunk, hesitated, +then opened it.</p> + +<p>Nothing shocked me more than to find the trunk ... full of clothes.</p> + +<p>There were four pairs of trousers, light blue, dark blue, gray and +black, with wide cuffs at the bottoms. There were six or eight shirts, +their colors running the entire spectrum in the most violent shades. +There were a couple of vests. There were two pairs of short boots with +high heels and fancy leather-working, and a couple of hats with +four-inch brims.</p> + +<p>And there was a wide leather belt, practically a leather corset.</p> + +<p>I stared at the belt, wondering if I was really seeing what was in front +of me.</p> + +<p>Attached to the belt were a pair of pistols in right- and left-hand +holsters. The pistols were seven-mm Krupp-Tatta Ultraspeed automatics, +and the holsters were the spring-ejection, quick-draw holsters which +were the secret of the State Department Special Services.</p> + +<p><i>This must be a mistake</i>, I thought. <i>I'm an Ambassador now and +Ambassadors never carry weapons.</i></p> + +<p>The sanctity of an Ambassador's person not only made the carrying of +weapons unnecessary, so that an armed Ambassador was a contradiction of +diplomatic terms, but it would be an outrageous insult to the nation to +which he had been accredited.</p> + +<p>Like taking a poison-taster to a friendly dinner.</p> + +<p>Maybe I was supposed to give the belt and the holsters to Hoddy +Ringo....</p> + +<p>So I tore the sealed band off the second notebook and read through it.</p> + +<p>I was to wear the local costume on New Texas. That was something +unusual; even in the Hooligan Diplomats, we leaned over backward in +wearing Terran costume to distinguish ourselves from the people among +whom we worked.</p> + +<p>I was further advised to start wearing the high boots immediately, on +shipboard, to accustom myself to the heels. These, I was informed, were +traditional. They had served a useful purpose, in the early days on +Terran Texas, when all travel had been on horseback. On horseless and +mechanized New Texas, they were a useless but venerated part of the +cultural heritage.</p> + +<p>There were bits of advice about the hat, and the trousers, which for +some obscure reason were known as Levis. And I was informed, as an +order, that I was to wear the belt and the pistols at all times outside +the Embassy itself.</p> + +<p>That was all of the second notebook.</p> + +<p>The two notebooks, plus my conversation with Ghopal, Klüng and +Natalenko, completed my briefing for my new post.</p> + +<p>I slid off my shoes and pulled on a pair of boots. They fitted +perfectly. Evidently I had been tapped for this job as soon as word of +Silas Cumshaw's death had reached Luna and there must have been some +fantastic hurrying to get my outfit ready.</p> + +<p>I didn't like that any too well, and I liked the order to carry the +pistols even less. Not that I had any objection to carrying weapons, +<i>per se</i>: I had been born and raised on Theta Virgo IV, where the +children aren't allowed outside the house unattended until they've +learned to shoot.</p> + +<p>But I did have strenuous objections to being sent, virtually ignorant of +local customs, on a mission where I was ordered to commit deliberate +provocation of the local government, immediately on the heels of my +predecessor's violent death.</p> + +<p>The author of <i>Probable Future Courses of Solar League Diplomacy</i> had +recommended the use of provocation to justify conquest. If the New +Texans murdered two Solar League Ambassadors in a row, nobody would +blame the League for moving in with a space-fleet and an army....</p> + +<p>I was beginning to understand how Doctor Guillotin must have felt while +his neck was being shoved into his own invention.</p> + +<p>I looked again at the notebooks, each marked in red: <i>Familiarize +yourself with contents and burn or disintegrate.</i></p> + +<p>I'd have to do that, of course. There were a few non-humans and a lot of +non-League people aboard this ship. I couldn't let any of them find out +what we considered a full briefing for a new Ambassador.</p> + +<p>So I wrapped them in the original package and went down to the lower +passenger zone, where I found the ship's third officer. I told him that +I had some secret diplomatic matter to be destroyed and he took me to +the engine room. I shoved the package into one of the mass-energy +convertors and watched it resolve itself into its +constituent protons, neutrons and electrons.</p> + +<p>On the way back, I stopped in at the ship's bar.</p> + +<p>Hoddy Ringo was there, wrapped up in—and I use the words literally—a +young lady from the Alderbaran system. She was on her way home from one +of the quickie divorce courts on Terra and was celebrating her marital +emancipation. They were so entangled with each other that they didn't +notice me. When they left the bar, I slipped after them until I saw them +enter the lady's stateroom. That, of course, would have Hoddy +immobilized—better word, located—for a while. So I went back to our +suite, picked the lock of Hoddy's room, and allowed myself half an hour +to search his luggage.</p> + +<p>All of his clothes were new, but there were not a great many of them. +Evidently he was planning to re-outfit himself on New Texas. There were +a few odds and ends, the kind any man with a real home planet will hold +on to, in the luggage.</p> + +<p>He had another eleven-mm pistol, made by Consolidated-Martian +Metalworks, mate to the one he was carrying in a shoulder-holster, and a +wide two-holster belt like the one furnished me, but quite old.</p> + +<p>I greeted the sight and the meaning of the old holsters with joy: they +weren't the State Department Special Services type. That meant that +Hoddy was just one of Natalenko's run-of-the-gallows cutthroats, not +important enough to be issued the secret equipment.</p> + +<p>But I was a little worried over what I found hidden in the lining of one +of his bags, a letter addressed to Space-Commander Lucius C. Stonehenge, +Aggression Department Attaché, New Austin Embassy. I +didn't have either the time or the equipment to open it. But, knowing +our various Departments, I tried to reassure myself with the thought +that it was only a letter-of-credence, with the real message to be +delivered orally.</p> + +<p>About the real message I had no doubts: <i>arrange the murder of +Ambassador Stephen Silk in such a way that it looks like another New +Texan job....</i></p> + +<hr style="width: 50%;"/> + +<p>Starting that evening—or what passed for evening aboard a ship in +hyperspace—Hoddy and I began a positively epochal binge together.</p> + +<p>I had it figured this way: as long as we were on board ship, I was +perfectly safe. On the ship, in fact, Hoddy would definitely have given +his life to save mine. I'd have to be killed on New Texas to give +Klüng's boys their excuse for moving in.</p> + +<p>And there was always the chance, with no chance too slender for me to +ignore, that I might be able to get Hoddy drunk enough to talk, yet +still be sober enough myself to remember what he said.</p> + +<p>Exact times, details, faces, names, came to me through a sort of hazy +blur as Hoddy and I drank something he called superbourbon—a New Texan +drink that Bourbon County, Kentucky, would never have recognized. They +had no corn on New Texas. This stuff was made out of something called +superyams.</p> + +<p>There were at least two things I got out of the binge. First, I learned +to slug down the national drink without batting an eye. Second, I +learned to control my expression as I uncovered the fact that everything +on New Texas was supersomething.</p> + +<p>I was also cautious enough, before we really got started, to leave my +belt and guns with the purser. I didn't want Hoddy poking around those +secret holsters. And I remember telling the captain to radio New Austin +as soon as we came out of our last hyperspace-jump, then to send the +ship's doctor around to give me my hangover treatments.</p> + +<p>But the one thing I wanted to remember, as the hangover shots brought me +back to normal life, I found was the one thing I couldn't remember. What +was the name of that girl—a big, beautiful blond—who joined the party +along with Hoddy's grass widow from Alderbaran and stayed with it to the +end?</p> + +<p>Damn, I wished I could remember her name!</p> + +<hr style="width: 50%;"/> + +<p>When we were fifteen thousand miles off-planet and the lighters from New +Austin spaceport were reported on the way, I got into the skin-tight +Levis, the cataclysmic-colored shirt, and the loose vest, tucked my big +hat under my arm, and went to the purser's office for my guns, buckling +them on. When I got back to the suite, Hoddy had put on his pistols and +was practicing quick draws in front of the mirror. He took one look at +my armament and groaned.</p> + +<p>"You're gonna get yourself killed for sure, with that rig, an' them +popguns," he told me.</p> + +<p>"These popguns'll shoot harder and make bigger holes than that pair of +museum-pieces you're carrying," I replied.</p> + +<p>"An' them holsters!" Hoddy continued. "Why, it'd take all day to get +your guns outa them! You better let me find you a real rig, when we get +to New Austin...."</p> + +<p>There was a chance, of course, that he knew what I was using and wanted +to hide his knowledge. I doubted that.</p> + +<p>"Sure, you State Department guys always know everything," he went on. +"Like them microfilm-books you was readin'. I try to tell you what +things is really like on New Texas, an' you let it go in one ear an' out +the other."</p> + +<p>Then he wandered off to say good-bye to the grass widow from Alderbaran, +leaving me to make the last-minute check on the luggage. I was hoping +I'd be able to see that blond ... what <i>was</i> her name; Gail +something-or-other. Let's see, she'd been at some Terran university, and +she was on her way home to ... to New Texas! Of course!</p> + +<hr style="width: 50%;"/> + +<p>I saw her, half an hour later, in the crowd around the airlock when the +lighters came alongside, and I tried to push my way toward her. As I +did, the airlock opened, the crowd surged toward it, and she was carried +along. Then the airlock closed, after she had passed through and before +I could get to it. That meant I'd have to wait for the second lighter.</p> + +<p>So I made the best of it, and spent the next half-hour watching the disc +of the planet grow into a huge ball that filled the lower half of the +viewscreen and then lose its curvature, and instead of moving in toward +the planet, we were going down toward it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h3> + + +<p>New Austin spaceport was a huge place, a good fifty miles outside the +city. As we descended, I could see that it was laid out like a wheel, +with the landings and the blast-off stands around the hub, and high +buildings—packing houses and refrigeration plants—along the many +spokes. It showed a technological level quite out of keeping with the +accounts I had read, or the stories Hoddy had told, about the simple +ranch life of the planet. Might be foreign capital invested there, and I +made a mental note to find out whose.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, Old Texas, on Terra, had been heavily industrialized; +so much so that the state itself could handle the gigantic project of +building enough spaceships to move almost the whole population into +space.</p> + +<p>Then the landing-field was rushing up at us, with the nearer ends of the +roadways and streets drawing close and the far ends lengthening out away +from us. The other lighter was already down, and I could see a crowd +around it.</p> + +<p>There was a crowd waiting for us when we got out and went down the +escalators to the ground, and as I had expected, a special group of men +waiting for me. They were headed by a tall, slender individual in the +short black Eisenhower jacket, gray-striped trousers and black homburg +that was the uniform of the Diplomatic Service, alias the Cookie +Pushers.</p> + +<p>Over their heads at the other rocket-boat, I could see the gold-gleaming +head of the girl I'd met on the ship.</p> + +<p>I tried to push through the crowd and get to her. As I did, the Cookie +Pusher got in my way.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Silk! Mr. Ambassador! Here we are!" he was clamoring. "The car for +the Embassy is right over here!" He clutched my elbow. "You have no idea +how glad we all are to see you, Mr. Ambassador!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; of course. Now, there's somebody over there I +have to see, at once." I tried to pull myself loose from his grasp.</p> + +<p>Across the concrete between the two lighters, I could see the girl push +out of the crowd around her and wave a hand to me. I tried to yell to +her; but just then another lighter, loaded with freight, started to lift +out at another nearby stand, with the roar of half a dozen Niagaras. The +thin man in the striped trousers added to the uproar by shouting into my +ear and pulling at me.</p> + +<p>"We haven't time!" he finally managed to make himself heard. "We're +dreadfully late now, sir! You must come with us."</p> + +<p>Hoddy, too, had caught hold of me by the other arm.</p> + +<p>"Come on, boss. There's gotta be some reason why he's got himself in an +uproar about whatever it is. You'll see her again."</p> + +<p>Then, the whole gang—Hoddy, the thin man with the black homburg, his +younger accomplice in identical garb, and the chauffeur—all closed in +on me and pushed me, pulled me, half-carried me, fifty yards across the +concrete to where their air-car was parked. By this time, the tall +blond had gotten clear of the mob around her and was waving frantically +at me. I tried to wave back, but I was literally crammed into the car +and flung down on the seat. At the same time, the chauffeur was jumping +in, extending the car's wings, jetting up.</p> + +<p>"Great God!" I bellowed. "This is the damnedest piece of impudence I've +ever had to suffer from any subordinates in my whole State Department +experience! I want an explanation out of you, and it'd better be a good +one!"</p> + +<p>There was a deafening silence in the car for a moment. The thin man +moved himself off my lap, then sat there looking at me with the +heartbroken eyes of a friendly dog that had just been kicked for +something which wasn't really its fault.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ambassador, you can't imagine how sorry we all are, but if we +hadn't gotten you away from the spaceport and to the Embassy at once, we +would all have been much sorrier."</p> + +<p>"Somebody here gunnin' for the Ambassador?" Hoddy demanded sharply.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I hadn't even thought of that," the thin man almost gibbered. +"But your presence at the Embassy is of immediate and urgent necessity. +You have no idea of the state into which things have gotten.... Oh, +pardon me, Mr. Ambassador. I am Gilbert W. Thrombley, your chargé +d'affaires." I shook hands with him. "And Mr. Benito Gomez, the +Secretary of the Embassy." I shook hands with him, too, and started to +introduce Mr. Hoddy Ringo.</p> + +<p>Hoddy, however, had turned to look out the rear window; immediately, he +gave a yelp.</p> + +<p>"We got a tail, boss! Two of them! Look back there!"</p> + +<p>There were two black eight-passenger aircars, of the same model, +whizzing after us, making an obvious effort to overtake us. The +chauffeur cursed and fired his auxiliary jets, +then his rocket-booster.</p> + +<p>Immediately, black rocket-fuel puffs shot away from the pursuing +aircars.</p> + +<p>Hoddy turned in his seat, cranked open a porthole-slit in the window, +and poked one of his eleven-mm's out, letting the whole clip go. +Thrombley and Gomez slid down onto the floor, and both began trying to +drag me down with them, imploring me not to expose myself.</p> + +<p>As far as I could see, there was nothing to expose myself to. The other +cars kept coming, but neither of them were firing at us. There was also +no indication that Hoddy's salvo had had any effect on them. Our +chauffeur went into a perfect frenzy of twisting and dodging, at the +same time using his radiophone to tell somebody to +get the goddamn gate open in a hurry. I saw the blue skies and green +plains of New Texas replacing one another above, under, in front of and +behind us. Then the car set down on a broad stretch of concrete, the +wings were retracted, and we went whizzing down a city street.</p> + +<p>We whizzed down a number of streets. We cut corners on two wheels, and +on one wheel, and, I was prepared to swear, on no wheels. A couple of +times, with the wings retracted, we actually jetted into the air and +jumped over vehicles in front of us, landing again with bone-shaking +jolts. Then we made an abrupt turn and shot in under a concrete arch, +and a big door banged shut behind us, and we stopped, in the middle of a +wide patio, the front of the car a few inches short of a fountain. Four +or five people, in diplomatic striped trousers, local dress and the +uniform of the Space Marines, came running over.</p> + +<p>Thrombley pulled himself erect and half-climbed, half-fell, out of the +car. Gomez got out on the other side with Hoddy; I climbed out after +Thrombley.</p> + +<p>A tall, sandy-haired man in the uniform of the Space Navy came over.</p> + +<p>"What the devil's the matter, Thrombley?" he demanded. Then, seeing me, +he gave me as much of a salute as a naval officer will ever bestow on +anybody in civilian clothes.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Silk?" He looked at my costume and the pistols on my belt in +well-bred concealment of surprise. "I'm your military attaché, +Stonehenge; Space-Commander, Space Navy."</p> + +<p>I noticed that Hoddy's ears had pricked up, but he wasn't making any +effort to attract Stonehenge's attention. I shook hands with him, +introduced Hoddy, and offered my cigarette case around.</p> + +<p>"You seem to have had a hectic trip from the spaceport, Mr. Ambassador. +What happened?"</p> + +<p>Thrombley began accusing our driver of trying to murder the lot of us. +Hoddy brushed him aside and explained:</p> + +<p>"Just after we'd took off, two other cars took off after us. We speeded +up, and they speeded up, too. Then your fly-boy, here, got fancy. That +shook 'em off. Time we got into the city, we'd dropped them. Nice job of +driving. Probably saved our lives."</p> + +<p>"Shucks, that wasn't nothin'," the driver disclaimed. "When you drive +for politicians, you're either good or you're good and dead."</p> + +<p>"I'm surprised they started so soon," Stonehenge said. Then he looked +around at my fellow-passengers, who seemed to have realized, by now, +that they were no longer dangling by their fingernails over the brink of +the grave. "But gentlemen, let's not keep the Ambassador standing out +here in the hot sun."</p> + +<p>So we went over the arches at the side of the patio, and were about to +sit down when one of the Embassy servants came up, followed by a man in +a loose vest and blue Levis and a big hat. He had a pair of automatics +in his belt, too.</p> + +<p>"I'm Captain Nelson; New Texas Rangers," he introduced himself. "Which +one of you-all is Mr. Stephen Silk?"</p> + +<p>I admitted it.</p> + +<p>The Ranger pushed back his wide hat and grinned at me.</p> + +<p>"I just can't figure this out," he said. "You're in the right place and +the right company, but we got a report, from a mighty good source, that +you'd been kidnapped at the spaceport by a gang of thugs!"</p> + +<p>"A blond source?" I made curving motions with my hands. "I don't blame +her. My efficient and conscientious chargé d'affaires, Mr. Thrombley, +felt that I should reach the Embassy, here, as soon as possible, and +from where she was standing, it must have looked like a kidnapping. +Fact is, it looked like one from where I was standing, too. +Was that you and your people who were chasing us? Then I must apologize +for opening fire on you ... I hope nobody was hurt."</p> + +<p>"No, our cars are pretty well armored. You scored a couple of times on +one of them, but no harm done. I reckon after what happened to Silas +Cumshaw, you had a right to be suspicious."</p> + +<p>I noticed that refreshments, including several bottles, had been placed +on a big wicker table under the arched veranda.</p> + +<p>"Can I offer you a drink, Captain, in token of mutual amity?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, now, I'd like to, Mr. Ambassador, but I'm on duty ..." he began.</p> + +<p>"You can't be. You're an officer of the Planetary Government of New +Texas, and in this Embassy, you're in the territory of the Solar +League."</p> + +<p>"That's right, now, Mr. Ambassador," he grinned. "Extraterritoriality. +Wonderful thing, extraterritoriality." He looked at Hoddy, who, for the +first time since I had met him, was trying to shrink into the +background. "And diplomatic immunity, too. Ain't it, Hoddy?"</p> + +<p>After he had had his drink and departed, we all sat down. Thrombley +began speaking almost at once.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ambassador, you must, you simply must, issue a public statement, +immediately, sir. Only a public statement, issued promptly, will relieve +the crisis into which we have all been thrust."</p> + +<p>"Oh, come, Mr. Thrombley," I objected. "Captain Nelson'll take care of +all that in his report to his superiors."</p> + +<p>Thrombley looked at me for a moment as though I had been speaking to +him in Hottentot, then waved his hands in polite exasperation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no! I don't mean that, sir. I mean a public statement to the +effect that you have assumed full responsibility for the Embassy. Where +is that thing? Mr. Gomez!"</p> + +<p>Gomez gave him four or five sheets, stapled together. He laid them on +the table, turned to the last sheet, and whipped out a pen.</p> + +<p>"Here, sir; just sign here."</p> + +<p>"Are you crazy?" I demanded. "I'll be damned if I'll sign that. Not till +I've taken an inventory of the physical property of the Embassy, and +familiarized myself with all its commitments, and had the books audited +by some firm of certified public accountants."</p> + +<p>Thrombley and Gomez looked at one another. They both groaned.</p> + +<p>"But we must have a statement of assumption of responsibility ..." Gomez +dithered.</p> + +<p>"... or the business of the Embassy will be at a dead stop, and we can't +do anything," Thrombley finished.</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment, Thrombley," Stonehenge cut in. "I understand Mr. Silk's +attitude. I've taken command of a good many ships and installations, at +one time or another, and I've never signed for anything I couldn't see +and feel and count. I know men who retired as brigadier generals or +vice-admirals, but they retired loaded with debts incurred because as +second lieutenants or ensigns they forgot that simple rule."</p> + +<p>He turned to me. "Without any disrespect to the chargé d'affaires, Mr. +Silk, this Embassy has been pretty badly disorganized since Mr. +Cumshaw's death. No one felt authorized, or, to put it more accurately, +no one dared, to declare himself acting head of the Embassy—"</p> + +<p>"Because that would make him the next target?" I interrupted. "Well, +that's what I was sent here for. Mr. Gomez, as Secretary of the Embassy, +will you please, at once, prepare a statement for the press and telecast +release to the effect that I am now the authorized head of this Embassy, +responsible from this hour for all its future policies and all its +present commitments insofar as they obligate the government of the Solar +League. Get that out at once. Tomorrow, I will present my credentials to +the Secretary of State here. Thereafter, Mr. Thrombley, you can rest in +the assurance that I'll be the one they'll be shooting at."</p> + +<p>"But you can't wait that long, Mr. Ambassador," Thrombley almost wailed. +"We must go immediately to the Statehouse. The reception for you is +already going on."</p> + +<p>I looked at my watch, which had been regulated aboard ship for Capella +IV time. It was just 1315.</p> + +<p>"What time do they hold diplomatic receptions on this planet, Mr. +Thrombley?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, any time at all, sir. This one started about 0900 when the news +that the ship was in orbit off-planet got in. It'll be a barbecue, of +course, and—"</p> + +<p>"Barbecued supercow! Yipeee!" Hoddy yelled. "What I been waitin' for for +five years!"</p> + +<p>It would be the vilest cruelty not to take him along, I thought. And it +would also keep him and Stonehenge apart for a while.</p> + +<p>"But we must hurry, Mr. Ambassador," Thrombley was saying. "If you will +change, now, to formal dress ..."</p> + +<p>And he was looking at me, gasping. I think it was the first time he had +actually seen what I was wearing.</p> + +<p>"In native dress, Mr. Ambassador!"</p> + +<p>Thrombley's eyes and tone were again those of an innocent spaniel caught +in the middle of a marital argument.</p> + +<p>Then his gaze fell to my belt and his eyes became saucers. "Oh, dear! +And armed!"</p> + +<p>My chargé d'affaires was shuddering and he could not look directly at +me.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ambassador, I understand that you were recently appointed from the +Consular Service. I sincerely hope that you will not take it amiss if I +point out, here in private, that—"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Thrombley, I am wearing this costume and these pistols on the +direct order of Secretary of State Ghopal Singh."</p> + +<p>That set him back on his heels.</p> + +<p>"I ... I can't believe it!" he exclaimed. "An ambassador is <i>never</i> +armed."</p> + +<p>"Not when he's dealing with a government which respects the comity of +nations and the usages of diplomatic practice, no," I replied. "But the +fate of Mr. Cumshaw clearly indicates that the government of New Texas +is not such a government. These pistols are in the nature of a +not-too-subtle hint of the manner in which this government, here, is +being regarded by the government of the Solar League." I turned to +Stonehenge. "Commander, what sort of an Embassy guard have we?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Space Marines, sergeant and five men. I double as guard officer, sir."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Mr. Thrombley insists that it is necessary for me to go to +this fish-fry or whatever it is immediately. I want two men, a driver +and an auto-rifleman, for my car. And from now on, I would suggest, +Commander, that you wear your sidearm at all times outside the Embassy."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir!" and this time, Stonehenge gave me a real salute.</p> + +<p>"Well, I must phone the Statehouse, then," Thrombley said. "We will have +to call on Secretary of State Palme, and then on President Hutchinson."</p> + +<p>With that, he got up, excused himself, motioned Gomez to follow, and +hurried away.</p> + +<p>I got up, too, and motioned Stonehenge aside.</p> + +<p>"Aboard ship, coming in, I was told that there's a task force of the +Space Navy on maneuvers about five light-years from here," I said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Task Force Red-Blue-Green, Fifth Space Fleet. Fleet Admiral +Sir Rodney Tregaskis."</p> + +<p>"Can we get hold of a fast space-boat, with hyperdrive engines, in a +hurry?"</p> + +<p>"Eight or ten of them always around New Austin spaceport, available for +charter."</p> + +<p>"All right; charter one and get out to that fleet. Tell Admiral +Tregaskis that the Ambassador at New Austin feels in need of protection; +possibility of z'Srauff invasion. I'll give you written orders. I want +the Fleet within radio call. How far out would that be, with our +facilities?"</p> + +<p>"The Embassy radio isn't reliable beyond about sixty light-minutes, +sir."</p> + +<p>"Then tell Sir Rodney to bring his fleet in that close. The invasion, if +it comes, will probably not come from the direction of the z'Srauff +star-cluster; they'll probably jump past us and move in from the other +side. I hope you don't think I'm having nightmares, Commander. Danger of +a z'Srauff invasion was pointed out to me by persons on the very highest +level, on Luna."</p> + +<p>Stonehenge nodded. "I'm always having the same kind of nightmares, sir. +Especially since this special envoy arrived here, ostensibly to +negotiate a meteor-mining treaty." He hesitated for a moment. "We don't +want the New Texans to know, of course, that you've sent for the fleet?"</p> + +<p>"Naturally not."</p> + +<p>"Well, if I can wait till about midnight before I leave, I can get a +boat owned, manned and operated by Solar League people. The boat's a +dreadful-looking old tub, but she's sound and fast. The gang who own her +are pretty notorious characters—suspected of smuggling, piracy, and +what not—but they'll keep their mouths shut if well paid."</p> + +<p>"Then pay them well," I said. "And it's just as well you're not leaving +at once. When I get back from this clambake, I'll want to have a general +informal council, and I certainly want you in on it."</p> + +<p>On the way to the Statehouse in the aircar, I kept wondering just how +smart I had been.</p> + +<p>I was pretty sure that the z'Srauff was getting ready for a sneak attack +on New Texas, and, as Solar League Ambassador, I of course had the right +to call on the Space Navy for any amount of armed protection.</p> + +<p>Sending Stonehenge off on what couldn't be less than an eighteen-hour +trip would delay anything he and Hoddy might be cooking up, too.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, with the fleet so near, they might decide to have me +rubbed out in a hurry, to justify seizing the planet ahead of the +z'Srauff.</p> + +<p>I was in that pleasant spot called, "Damned if you do and damned if you +don't...."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h3> + + +<p>The Statehouse appeared to cover about a square mile of ground and it +was an insane jumble of buildings piled beside and on top of one +another, as though it had been in continuous construction ever since the +planet was colonized, eighty-odd years before.</p> + +<p>At what looked like one of the main entrances, the car stopped. I told +our Marine driver and auto-rifleman to park the car and take in the +barbecue, but to leave word with the doorman where they could be found. +Hoddy, Thrombley and I then went in, to be met by a couple of New Texas +Rangers, one of them the officer who had called at the Embassy. They +guided us to the office of the Secretary of State.</p> + +<p>"We're dreadfully late," Thrombley was fretting. "I do hope we haven't +kept the Secretary waiting too long."</p> + +<p>From the looks of him, I was afraid we had. He jumped up from his desk +and hurried across the room as soon as the receptionist opened the door +for us, his hand extended.</p> + +<p>"Good afternoon, Mr. Thrombley," he burbled nervously. "And this is the +new Ambassador, I suppose. And this—" He caught sight of Hoddy Ringo, +bringing up the rear and stopped short, hand flying to open mouth. "Oh, +dear me!"</p> + +<p>So far, I had been building myself a New Texas stereotype from Hoddy +Ringo and the Ranger officer who had chased us to the Embassy. But this +frightened little rabbit of a fellow simply didn't fit it. An alien +would be justified in assigning him to an entirely different species.</p> + +<p>Thrombley introduced me. I introduced Hoddy as my confidential secretary +and advisor. We all shook hands, and Thrombley dug my credentials out of +his briefcase and handed them to me, and I handed them to the Secretary +of State, Mr. William A. Palme. He barely glanced at them, then shook my +hand again fervently and mumbled something about "inexpressible +pleasure" and "entirely acceptable to my government."</p> + +<p>That made me the accredited and accepted Ambassador to New Texas.</p> + +<p>Mr. Palme hoped, or said he hoped, that my stay in New Texas would be +long and pleasant. He seemed rather less than convinced that it would +be. His eyes kept returning in horrified fascination to my belt. Each +time they would focus on the butts of my Krupp-Tattas, he would pull +them resolutely away again.</p> + +<p>"And now, we must take you to President Hutchinson; he is most anxious +to meet you, Mr. Silk. If you will please come with me ..."</p> + +<p>Four or five Rangers who had been loitering the hall outside moved to +follow us as we went toward the elevator. Although we had come into the +building onto a floor only a few feet above street-level, we went down +three floors from the hallway outside the Secretary of State's office, +into a huge room, the concrete floor of which was oil-stained, as +though vehicles were continually being driven in and out. It was about a +hundred feet wide, and two or three hundred in length. Daylight was +visible through open doors at the end. As we approached them, the +Rangers fanning out on either side and in front of us, I could hear a +perfect bedlam of noise outside—shouting, singing, dance-band music, +interspersed with the banging of shots.</p> + +<p>When we reached the doors at the end, we emerged into one end of a big +rectangular plaza, at least five hundred yards in length. Most of the +uproar was centered at the opposite end, where several thousand people, +in costumes colored through the whole spectrum, were milling about. +There seemed to be at least two square-dances going on, to the music of +competing bands. At the distant end of the plaza, over the heads of the +crowd, I could see the piles and tracks of an overhead crane, towering +above what looked like an open-hearth furnace. Between us and the bulk +of the crowd, in a cleared space, two medium tanks, heavily padded with +mats, were ramming and trying to overturn each other, the mob of +spectators crowding as close to them as they dared. The din was +positively deafening, though we were at least two hundred yards from the +center of the crowd.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, I always dread these things!" Palme was saying.</p> + +<p>"Yes, absolutely anything could happen," Thrombley twittered.</p> + +<p>"Man, this is a real barbecue!" Hoddy gloated. "Now I really feel at +home!"</p> + +<p>"Over this way, Mr. Silk," Palme said, guiding me toward the short end +of the plaza, on our left. "We will see the President and then ..."</p> + +<p>He gulped.</p> + +<p>"... then we will all go to the barbecue."</p> + +<p>In the center of the short end of the plaza, dwarfed by the monster +bulks of steel and concrete and glass around it, stood a little old +building of warm-tinted adobe. I had never seen it before, but somehow +it was familiar-looking. And then I remembered. Although I had never +seen it before, I had seen it pictured many times; pictured under +attack, with gunsmoke spouting from windows and parapets.</p> + +<p>I plucked Thrombley's sleeve.</p> + +<p>"Isn't that a replica of the Alamo?"</p> + +<p>He was shocked. "Oh, dear, Mr. Ambassador, don't let anybody hear you +ask that. That's no replica. It <i>is</i> the Alamo. <i>The</i> Alamo."</p> + +<p>I stood there a moment, looking at it. I was remembering, and finally +understanding, what my psycho-history lessons about the "Romantic +Freeze" had meant.</p> + +<p><i>They had taken this little mission-fort down, brick by adobe brick, +loaded it carefully into a spaceship, brought it here, forty two +light-years away from Terra, and reverently set it up again. Then they +had built a whole world and a whole social philosophy around it</i>.</p> + +<p>It had been the dissatisfied, of course, the discontented, the dreamers, +who had led the vanguard of man's explosion into space following the +discovery of the hyperspace-drive. They had gone from Terra cherishing +dreams of things that had been dumped into the dust bin of history, +carrying with them pictures of ways of life that had passed away, or +that had never really been. Then, in their new life, on new planets, +they had set to work making those dreams and those pictures live.</p> + +<p>And, many times, they had come close to succeeding.</p> + +<p>These Texans, now: they had left behind the cold fact that it had been +their state's great industrial complex that had made their migration +possible. They ignored the fact that their life here on Capella IV was +possible only by application of modern industrial technology. That rodeo +down the plaza—tank-tilting instead of bronco-busting. Here they were, +living frozen in a romantic dream, a world of roving cowboys and ranch +kingdoms.</p> + +<p>No wonder Hoddy hadn't liked the books I had been reading on the ship. +They shook the fabric of that dream.</p> + +<p>There were people moving about, at this relatively quiet end of the +plaza, mostly in the direction of the barbecue. Ten or twelve Rangers +loitered at the front of the Alamo, and with them I saw the dress blues +of my two Marines. There was a little three-wheeled motorcart among +them, from which they were helping themselves to food and drink. When +they saw us coming, the two Marines shoved their sandwiches into the +hands of a couple of Rangers and tried to come to attention.</p> + +<p>"At ease, at ease," I told them. "Have a good time, boys. Hoddy, you +better get in on some of this grub; I may be inside for quite a while."</p> + +<p>As soon as the Rangers saw Hoddy, they hastily got things out of their +right hands. Hoddy grinned at them.</p> + +<p>"Take it easy, boys," he said. "I'm protected by the game laws. I'm a +diplomat, I am."</p> + +<p>There were a couple of Rangers lounging outside the door of the +President's office and both of them carried autorifles, implying things +I didn't like.</p> + +<p>I had seen the President of the Solar League wandering around the +dome-city of Artemis unattended, looking for all the world like a +professor in his academic halls. Since then, maybe before then, I had +always had a healthy suspicion of governments whose chiefs had to +surround themselves with bodyguards.</p> + +<p>But the President of New Texas, John Hutchinson, was alone in his office +when we were shown in. He got up and came around his desk to greet us, a +slender, stoop-shouldered man in a black-and-gold laced jacket. He had a +narrow compressed mouth and eyes that seemed to be watching every corner +of the room at once. He wore a pair of small pistols in cross-body +holsters under his coat, and he always kept one hand or the other close +to his abdomen.</p> + +<p>He was like, and yet unlike, the Secretary of State. Both had the look +of hunted animals; but where Palme was a rabbit, twitching to take +flight at the first whiff of danger, Hutchinson was a cat who hears +hounds baying—ready to run if he could, or claw if he must.</p> + +<p>"Good day, Mr. Silk," he said, shaking hands with me after the +introductions. "I see you're heeled; you're smart. You wouldn't be here +today if poor Silas Cumshaw'd been as smart as you are. Great man, +though; a wise and farseeing statesman. He and I were real friends."</p> + +<p>"You know who Mr. Silk brought with him as bodyguard?" Palme asked. +"Hoddy Ringo!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God! I thought this planet was rid of him!" The President turned +to me. "You got a good trigger-man, though, Mr. Ambassador. Good man to +watch your back for you. But lot of folks here won't thank you for +bringing him back to New Texas."</p> + +<p>He looked at his watch. "We have time for a little drink, before we go +outside, Mr. Silk," he said. "Care to join me?"</p> + +<p>I assented and he got a bottle of superbourbon out of his desk, with +four glasses. Palme got some water tumblers and brought the pitcher of +ice-water from the cooler.</p> + +<p>I noticed that the New Texas Secretary of State filled his three-ounce +liquor glass to the top and gulped it down at once. He might act as +though he were descended from a long line of maiden aunts, but he took +his liquor in blasts that would have floored a spaceport labor-boss.</p> + +<p>We had another drink, a little slower, and chatted for a while, and then +Hutchinson said, regretfully that we'd have to go outside and meet the +folks. Outside, our guards—Hoddy, the two Marines, the Rangers who had +escorted us from Palme's office, and Hutchinson's retinue—surrounded +us, and we made our way down the plaza, through the crowd. The +din—ear-piercing yells, whistles, cowbells, pistol shots, the cacophony +of the two dance-bands, and the chorus-singing, of which I caught only +the words: <i>The skies of freedom are above you!</i>—was as bad as New +Year's Eve in Manhattan or Nairobi or New Moscow, on Terra.</p> + +<p>"Don't take all this as a personal tribute, Mr. Silk!" Hutchinson +screamed into my ear. "On this planet, to paraphrase Nietzsche, a good +barbecue halloweth any cause!"</p> + +<p>That surprised me, at the moment. Later I found out that John Hutchinson +was one of the leading scholars on New Texas and had once been president +of one of their universities. New Texas Christian, I believe.</p> + +<p>As we got up onto the platform, close enough to the barbecue pits to +feel the heat from them, somebody let off what sounded like a fifty-mm +anti-tank gun five or six times. Hutchinson grabbed a microphone and +bellowed into it: "Ladies and gentlemen! Your attention, please!"</p> + +<p>The noise began to diminish, slowly, until I could hear one voice, in +the crowd below:</p> + +<p>"Shut up, you damn fools! We can't eat till this is over!"</p> + +<p>Hutchinson introduced me, in very few words. I gathered that lengthy +speeches at barbecues were not popular on New Texas.</p> + +<p>"Ladies and gentlemen!" I yelled into the microphone. "Appreciative as I +am of this honor, there is one here who is more deserving of your notice +than I; one to whom I, also, pay homage. He's over there on the fire, +and I want a slice of him as soon as possible!"</p> + +<p>That got a big ovation. There was, beside the water pitcher, a bottle of +superbourbon. I ostentatiously threw the water out of the glass, poured +a big shot of the corrosive stuff, and downed it.</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, let's eat!" I finished. Then I turned to Thrombley, who +was looking like a priest who has just seen the bishop spit in the +holy-water font. "Stick close to me," I whispered. "Cue me in on the +local notables, and the other members of the Diplomatic Corps." Then we +all got down off the platform, and a band climbed up and began playing +one of those raucous "cowboy ballads" which had originated in Manhattan +about the middle of the Twentieth Century.</p> + +<p>"The sandwiches'll be here in a moment, Mr. Ambassador," Hutchinson +screamed—in effect, whispered—in my ear. "Don't feel any reluctance +about shaking hands with a sandwich in your other hand; that's standard +practice, here. You struck just the right note, up there. That business +with the liquor was positively inspired!"</p> + +<p>The sandwiches—huge masses of meat and hot relish, wrapped in tortillas +of some sort—arrived and I bit into one.</p> + +<p>I'd been eating supercow all my life, frozen or electron-beamed for +transportation, and now I was discovering that I had never really eaten +supercow before. I finished the first sandwich in surprisingly short +order and was starting on my second when the crowd began coming.</p> + +<p>First, the Diplomatic Corps, the usual collection of weirdies, human and +otherwise....</p> + +<p>There was the Ambassador from Tara, in a suit of what his planet +produced as a substitute for Irish homespuns. His Embassy, if it was +like the others I had seen elsewhere, would be an outsize cottage with +whitewashed walls and a thatched roof, with a bowl of milk outside the +door for the Little People ...</p> + +<p>The Ambassador from Alpheratz II, the South African Nationalist planet, +with a full beard, and old fashioned plug hat and tail-coat. They were a +frustrated lot. They had gone into space to practice <i>apartheid</i> and had +settled on a planet where there was no other intelligent race to be +superior to....</p> + +<p>The Mormon Ambassador from Deseret—Delta Camelopardalis V....</p> + +<p>The Ambassador from Spica VII, a short jolly-looking little fellow, with +a head like a seal's, long arms, short legs and a tail like a +kangaroo's....</p> + +<p>The Ambassador from Beta Cephus VI, who could have passed for human if +he hadn't had blood with a copper base instead of iron. His skin was a +dark green and his hair was a bright blue....</p> + +<p>I was beginning to correct my first impression that Thrombley was a +complete dithering fool. He stood at my left elbow, whispering the names +and governments and home planets of the Ambassadors as they came up, +handing me little slips of paper on which he had written phonetically +correct renditions of the greetings I would give them in their own +language. I was still twittering a reply to the greeting of +Nanadabadian, from Beta Cephus VI, when he whispered to me:</p> + +<p>"Here it comes, sir. The z'Srauff!"</p> + +<p>The z'Srauff were reasonably close to human stature and appearance, +allowing for the fact that their ancestry had been canine instead of +simian. They had, of course, longer and narrower jaws than we have, and +definitely carnivorous teeth.</p> + +<p>There were stories floating around that they enjoyed barbecued Terran +even better than they did supercow and hot relish.</p> + +<p>This one advanced, extending his three-fingered hand.</p> + +<p>"I am most happy to make connection with Solar League representative," +he said. "I am named Gglafrr Ddespttann Vuvuvu."</p> + +<p>No wonder Thrombley let him introduce himself. I answered in the Basic +English that was all he'd admit to understanding:</p> + +<p>"The name of your great nation has gone before you to me. The stories we +tell to our young of you are at the top of our books. I have hope to +make great pleasure in you and me to be friends."</p> + +<p>Gglafrr Vuvuvu's smile wavered a little at the oblique reference to the +couple of trouncings our Space Navy had administered to z'Srauff ships +in the past. "We will be in the same place again times with no number," +the alien replied. "I have hope for you that time you are in this place +will be long and will put pleasure in your heart."</p> + +<p>Then the pressure of the line behind him pushed him on. Cabinet Members; +Senators and Representatives; prominent citizens, mostly Judge +so-and-so, or Colonel this-or-that. It was all a blur, so much so that +it was an instant before I recognized the gleaming golden hair and the +statuesque figure.</p> + +<p>"Thank you! I have met the Ambassador." The lovely voice was shaking +with restrained anger.</p> + +<p>"Gail!" I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Your father coming to the barbecue, Gail?" President Hutchinson was +asking.</p> + +<p>"He ought to be here any minute. He sent me on ahead from the hotel. He +wants to meet the Ambassador. That's why I joined the line."</p> + +<p>"Well, suppose I leave Mr. Silk in your hands for a while," Hutchinson +said. "I ought to circulate around a little."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Just leave him in my hands!" she said vindictively.</p> + +<p>"What's wrong, Gail?" I wanted to know. "I know, I was supposed to meet +you at the spaceport, but—"</p> + +<p>"You made a beautiful fool of me at the spaceport!"</p> + +<p>"Look, I can explain everything. My Embassy staff insisted on hurrying +me off—"</p> + +<p>Somebody gave a high-pitched whoop directly behind me and emptied the +clip of a pistol. I couldn't even hear what else I said. I couldn't hear +what she said, either, but it was something angry.</p> + +<p>"You have to listen to me!" I roared in her ear. "I can explain +everything!"</p> + +<p>"Any diplomat can explain anything!" she shouted back.</p> + +<p>"Look, Gail, you're hanging an innocent man!" I yelled back at her. "I'm +entitled to a fair trial!"</p> + +<p>Somebody on the platform began firing his pistol within inches of the +loud-speakers and it sounded like an H-bomb going off. She grabbed my +wrist and dragged me toward a door under the platform.</p> + +<p>"Down here!" she yelled. "And this better be good, Mr. Silk!"</p> + +<p>We went down a spiral ramp, lighted by widely-scattered overhead lights.</p> + +<p>"Space-attack shelter," she explained. "And look: what goes on in +space-ships is one thing, but it's as much as a girl's reputation is +worth to come down here during a barbecue."</p> + +<p>There seemed to be quite few girls at that barbecue who didn't care what +happened to their reputations. We discovered that after looking into a +couple of passageways that branched off the entrance.</p> + +<p>"Over this way," Gail said, "Confederate Courts Building. There won't be +anything going on over here, now."</p> + +<p>I told her, with as much humorous detail as possible, about how +Thrombley had shanghaied me to the Embassy, and about the chase by the +Rangers. Before I was half through, she was laughing heartily, all +traces of her anger gone. Finally, we came to a stairway, and at the +head of it to a small door.</p> + +<p>"It's been four years that I've been away from here," she said. "I think +there's a reading room of the Law Library up here. Let's go in and enjoy +the quiet for a while."</p> + +<p>But when we opened the door, there was a Ranger standing inside.</p> + +<p>"Come to see a trial, Mr. Silk? Oh, hello, Gail. Just in time; they're +going to prepare for the next trial."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, something clicked at the door. Gail looked at me in +consternation.</p> + +<p>"Now we're locked in," she said. "We can't get out till the +trial's over."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h3> + + +<p>I looked around.</p> + +<p>We were on a high balcony, at the end of a long, narrow room. In front +of us, windows rose to the ceiling, and it was evident that the floor of +the room was about twenty feet below ground level. Outside, I could see +the barbecue still going on, but not a murmur of noise penetrated to us. +What seemed to be the judge's bench was against the outside wall, under +the tall windows. To the right of it was a railed stand with a chair in +it, and in front, arranged in U-shape, were three tables at which a +number of men were hastily conferring. There were nine judges in a row +on the bench, all in black gowns. The spectators' seats below were +filled with people, and there were quite a few up here on the balcony.</p> + +<p>"What is this? Supreme Court?" I asked as Gail piloted me to a couple of +seats where we could be alone.</p> + +<p>"No, Court of Political Justice," she told me. "This is the court that's +going to try those three Bonney brothers, who killed Mr. Cumshaw."</p> + +<p>It suddenly occurred to me that this was the first time I had heard +anything specific about the death of my predecessor.</p> + +<p>"That isn't the trial that's going on now, I hope?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; that won't be for a couple of days. Not till after you can +arrange to attend. I don't know what this trial is. I only got home +today, myself."</p> + +<p>"What's the procedure here?" I wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"Well, those nine men are judges," she began. "The one in the middle is +President Judge Nelson. You've met his son—the Ranger officer who +chased you from the spaceport. He's a regular jurist. The other eight +are prominent citizens who are drawn from a panel, like a jury. The men +at the table on the left are the prosecution: friends of the politician +who was killed. And the ones on the right are the defense: they'll try +to prove that the dead man got what was coming to him. The ones in the +middle are friends of the court: they're just anybody who has any +interest in the case—people who want to get some point of law cleared +up, or see some precedent established, or something like that."</p> + +<p>"You seem to assume that this is a homicide case," I mentioned.</p> + +<p>"They generally are. Sometimes mayhem, or wounding, or simple assault, +but—"</p> + +<p>There had been some sort of conference going on in the open space of +floor between the judges' bench and the three tables. It broke up, now, +and the judge in the middle rapped with his gavel.</p> + +<p>"Are you gentlemen ready?" he asked. "All right, then. Court of +Political Justice of the Confederate Continents of New Texas is now in +session. Case of the friends of S. Austin Maverick, deceased, late of +James Bowie Continent, versus Wilbur Whately."</p> + +<p>"My God, did somebody finally kill Aus Maverick?" Gail whispered.</p> + +<p>On the center table, in front of the friends of the court, both sides +seemed to have piled their exhibits; among the litter I saw some torn +clothing, a big white sombrero covered with blood, and a long machete.</p> + +<p>"The general nature of the case," the judge was saying, "is that the +defendant, Wilbur Whately, of Sam Houston Continent, is here charged +with divers offenses arising from the death of the Honorable S. Austin +Maverick, whom he killed on the front steps of the Legislative Assembly +Building, here in New Austin...."</p> + +<p><i>What goes on here?</i> I thought angrily. <i>This is the rankest instance of +a pre-judged case I've ever seen.</i> I started to say as much to Gail, but +she hushed me.</p> + +<p>"I want to hear the specifications," she said.</p> + +<p>A man at the prosecution table had risen.</p> + +<p>"Please the court," he began, "the defendant, Wilbur Whately, is here +charged with political irresponsibility and excessive atrocity in +exercising his constitutional right of criticism of a practicing +politician.</p> + +<p>"The specifications are, as follows: That, on the afternoon of May +Seventh, Anno Domini 2193, the defendant here present did arm himself +with a machete, said machete not being one of his normal and accustomed +weapons, and did loiter in wait on the front steps of the Legislative +Assembly Building in the city of New Austin, Continent of Sam Houston, +and did approach the decedent, addressing him in abusive, obscene, and +indecent language, and did set upon and attack him with the machete +aforesaid, causing the said decedent, S. Austin Maverick, to die."</p> + +<p>The court wanted to know how the defendant would plead. Somebody, +without bothering to rise, said, "Not guilty, Your Honor," from the +defense table.</p> + +<p>There was a brief scraping of chairs; four of five men from the defense +and the prosecution tables got up and advanced to confer in front of the +bench, comparing sheets of paper. The man who had read the charges, +obviously the chief prosecutor, made himself the spokesman.</p> + +<p>"Your Honor, defense and prosecution wish to enter the following +stipulations: That the decedent was a practicing politician within the +meaning of the Constitution, that he met his death in the manner stated +in the coroner's report, and that he was killed by the defendant, Wilbur +Whately."</p> + +<p>"Is that agreeable to you, Mr. Vincent?" the judge wanted to know.</p> + +<p>The defense answered affirmatively. I sat back, gaping like a fool. Why, +that was practically—no, it <i>was</i>—a confession.</p> + +<p>"All right, gentlemen," the judge said. "Now we have all that out of the +way, let's get on with the case."</p> + +<p>As though there were any case to get on with! I fully expected them to +take it on from there in song, words by Gilbert and music by Sullivan.</p> + +<p>"Well, Your Honor, we have a number of character witnesses," the +prosecution—prosecution, for God's sake!—announced.</p> + +<p>"Skip them," the defense said. "We stipulate."</p> + +<p>"But you can't stipulate character testimony," the prosecution argued. +"You don't know what our witnesses are going to testify to."</p> + +<p>"Sure we do: they're going to give us a big long shaggy-dog story about +the Life and Miracles of Saint Austin Maverick. We'll agree in advance +to all that; this case is concerned only with his record as a +politician. And as he spent the last fifteen years in the Senate, that's +all a matter of public record. I assume that the prosecution is going to +introduce all that, too?"</p> + +<p>"Well, naturally ..." the prosecutor began.</p> + +<p>"Including his public acts on the last day of his life?" the counsel for +the defense demanded. "His actions on the morning of May seventh as +chairman of the Finance and Revenue Committee? You going to introduce +that as evidence for the prosecution?"</p> + +<p>"Well, now ..." the prosecutor began.</p> + +<p>"Your Honor, we ask to have a certified copy of the proceedings of the +Senate Finance and Revenue Committee for the morning of May Seventh, +2193, read into the record of this court," the counsel for the defense +said. "And thereafter, we rest our case."</p> + +<p>"Has the prosecution anything to say before we close the court?" Judge +Nelson inquired.</p> + +<p>"Well, Your Honor, this seems ... that is, we ought to hear both sides +of it. My old friend, Aus Maverick, was really a fine man; he did a lot +of good for the people of his continent...."</p> + +<p>"Yeah, we'd of lynched him, when he got back, if somebody hadn't chopped +him up here in New Austin!" a voice from the rear of the courtroom broke +in.</p> + +<p>The prosecution hemmed and hawed for a moment, and then announced, in a +hasty mumble, that it rested.</p> + +<p>"I will now close the court," Judge Nelson said. "I advise everybody to +keep your seats. I don't think it's going to be closed very long."</p> + +<p>And then, he actually closed the court; pressing a button on the bench, +he raised a high black screen in front of him and his colleagues. It +stayed up for some sixty seconds, and then dropped again.</p> + +<p>"The Court of Political Justice has reached a verdict," he announced. +"Wilbur Whately, and your attorney, approach and hear the verdict."</p> + +<p>The defense lawyer motioned a young man who had been sitting beside him +to rise. In the silence that had fallen, I could hear the defendant's +boots squeaking as he went forward to hear his fate. The judge picked up +a belt and a pair of pistols that had been lying in front of him.</p> + +<p>"Wilbur Whately," he began, "this court is proud to announce that you +have been unanimously acquitted of the charge of political +irresponsibility, and of unjustified and excessive atrocity.</p> + +<p>"There was one dissenting vote on acquitting you of the charge of +political irresponsibility; one of the associate judges felt that the +late unmitigated scoundrel, Austin Maverick, ought to have been skinned +alive, an inch at a time. You are, however, acquitted of that charge, +too.</p> + +<p>"You all know," he continued, addressing the entire assemblage, "the +reason for which this young hero cut down that monster of political +iniquity, S. Austin Maverick. On the very morning of his justly-merited +death, Austin Maverick, using the powers of his political influence, +rammed through the Finance and Revenue Committee a bill entitled 'An Act +for the Taxing of Personal Incomes, and for the Levying of a Withholding +Tax.' Fellow citizens, words fail me to express my horror of this +diabolic proposition, this proposed instrument of tyrannical extortion, +borrowed from the Dark Ages of the Twentieth Century! Why, if this young +nobleman had not taken his blade in hand, I'd have killed the +sonofabitch, myself!"</p> + +<p>He leaned forward, extending the belt and holsters to the defendant.</p> + +<p>"I therefore restore to you your weapons, taken from you when, in +compliance with the law, you were formally arrested. Buckle them on, +and, assuming your weapons again, go forth from this court a free man, +Wilbur Whately. And take with you that machete with which you vindicated +the liberties and rights of all New Texans. Bear it reverently to your +home, hang it among your lares and penates, cherish it, and dying, +mention it within your will, bequeathing it as a rich legacy unto your +issue! Court adjourned; next session 0900 tomorrow. For Chrissake, let's +get out of here before the barbecue's over!"</p> + +<p>Some of the spectators, drooling for barbecued supercow, began crowding +and jostling toward the exits; more of them were pushing to the front of +the courtroom, cheering and waving their hip-flasks. The prosecution +and about half of the friends of the court hastily left by a side door, +probably to issue statements disassociating themselves from the deceased +Maverick.</p> + +<p>"So that's the court that's going to try the men who killed Ambassador +Cumshaw," I commented, as Gail and I went out. "Why, the purpose of that +court seems to be to acquit murderers."</p> + +<p>"Murderers?" She was indignant. "That wasn't murder. He just killed a +politician. All the court could do was determine whether or not the +politician needed it, and while I never heard about Maverick's +income-tax proposition, I can't see how they could have brought in any +other kind of a verdict. Of all the outrageous things!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 50%;"/> + +<p>I was thoughtfully silent as we went out into the plaza, which was still +a riot of noise and polychromatic costumes. And my thoughts were as +weltered as the scene before me.</p> + +<p>Apparently, on New Texas, killing a politician wasn't regarded as +<i>mallum in se</i>, and was <i>mallum prohibitorum</i> only to the extent that +what happened to the politician was in excess of what he deserved. I +began to understand why Palme was such a scared rabbit, why Hutchinson +had that hunted look and kept his hands always within inches of his +pistols.</p> + +<p>I began to feel more pity than contempt for Thrombley, too. <i>He's been +on this planet too long and he should never have been sent here in the +first place. I'll rotate him home as soon as possible....</i></p> + +<p>Then the full meaning of what I had seen finally got through to me: if +they were going to try the killers of Cumshaw in that court, that meant +that on New Texas, foreign diplomats were regarded as practicing +politicians....</p> + +<p>That made me a practicing politician too!</p> + +<p>And that's why, when we got back to the vicinity of the bandstand, I +had my right hand close to my pistol, with my thumb on the inconspicuous +little spot of silver inlay that operated the secret holster mechanism.</p> + +<p>I saw Hutchinson and Palme and Thrombley ahead. With them was a +newcomer, a portly, ruddy-faced gentleman with a white mustache and +goatee, dressed in a white suit. Gail broke away from me and ran toward +him. This, I thought, would be her father; now I would be introduced and +find out just what her last name was. I followed, more slowly, and saw a +waiter, with a wheeled serving-table, move in behind the group which she +had joined.</p> + +<p>So I saw what none of them did—the waiter suddenly reversed his long +carving-knife and poised himself for a blow at President Hutchinson's +back. I simply pressed the little silver stud on my belt, the +Krupp-Tatta popped obediently out of the holster into my open hand. I +thumbed off the safety and swung up; when my sights closed on the rising +hand that held the knife, I fired.</p> + +<p>Hoddy Ringo, who had been holding a sandwich with one hand and a drink +with the other, dropped both and jumped on the man whose hand I had +smashed. A couple of Rangers closed in and +grabbed him, also. The group around President Hutchinson had all turned +and were staring from me to the man I had shot, and from him to the +knife with the broken handle, lying on the ground.</p> + +<p>Hutchinson spoke first. "Well, Mr. Ambassador! My Government thanks your +Government! That was nice shooting!"</p> + +<p>"Hey, you been holdin' out on me!" Hoddy accused. "I never knew you was +that kinda gunfighter!"</p> + +<p>"There's a new wrinkle," the man with the white goatee said. "We'll have +to screen the help at these affairs a little more closely." He turned to +me. "Mr. Ambassador, New Texas owes you a great deal for saving the +President's life. If you'll get that pistol out of your hand, I'd be +proud to shake it, sir."</p> + +<p>I holstered my automatic, and took his hand. Gail was saying, "Stephen, +this is my father," and at the same time, Palme, the Secretary of State, +was doing it more formally:</p> + +<p>"Ambassador Silk, may I present one of our leading citizens and large +ranchers, Colonel Andrew Jackson Hickock."</p> + +<p>Dumbarton Oaks had taught me how to maintain the proper diplomat's +unchanging expression; drinking superbourbon had been a post-graduate +course. I needed that training as I finally learned Gail's last name.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h3> + + +<p>It was early evening before we finally managed to get away from the +barbecue. Thrombley had called the Embassy and told them not to wait +dinner for us, so the staff had finished eating and were relaxing in the +patio when our car came in through the street gate. Stonehenge and +another man came over to meet us as we got out—a man I hadn't met +before.</p> + +<p>He was a little fellow, half-Latin, half-Oriental; in New Texas costume +and wearing a pair of pistols like mine, in State Department Special +Services holsters. He didn't look like a Dumbarton Oaks product: I +thought he was more likely an alumnus of some private detective agency.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Francisco Parros, our Intelligence man," Stonehenge introduced him.</p> + +<p>"Sorry I wasn't here when you arrived, Mr. Silk," Parros said. "Out +checking on some things. But I saw that bit of shooting, on the telecast +screen in a bar over town. You know, there was a camera right over the +bandstand that caught the whole thing—you and Miss Hickock coming +toward the President and his party, Miss Hickock running forward to her +father, the waiter going up behind Hutchinson with the knife, and then +that beautiful draw and snap shot. They ran it again a couple of times +on the half-hourly newscast. Everybody in New Austin, maybe on New +Texas, is talking about it, now."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, sir," Gomez, the Embassy Secretary, said, joining us. +"You've made yourself more popular in the eight hours since you landed +than poor Mr. Cumshaw had been able to do in the ten years he spent +here. But, I'm afraid, sir, you've given me a good deal of work, +answering your fan-mail."</p> + +<p>We went over and sat down at one of the big tables under the arches at +the side of the patio.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's all to the good," I said. "I'm going to need a lot of +local good will, in the next few weeks. No thanks, Mr. Parros," I added, +as the Intelligence man picked up a bottle and made to pour for me. +"I've been practically swimming in superbourbon all afternoon. A little +black coffee, if you don't mind. And now, gentlemen, if you'll all be +seated, we'll see what has to be done."</p> + +<p>"A council of war, in effect, Mr. Ambassador?" Stonehenge inquired.</p> + +<p>"Let's call it a council to estimate the situation. But I'll have to +find out from you first exactly what the situation here is."</p> + +<p>Thrombley stirred uneasily. "But sir, I confess that I don't understand. +Your briefing on Luna...."</p> + +<p>"Was practically nonexistent. I had a total of six hours to get aboard +ship, from the moment I was notified that I had been appointed to this +Embassy."</p> + +<p>"Incredible!" Thrombley murmured.</p> + +<p>I wondered what he'd say if I told him that I thought it was +deliberate.</p> + +<p>"Naturally, I spent some time on the ship reading up on this planet, but +I know practically nothing about what's been going on here in, say, the +last year. And all I know about the death of Mr. Cumshaw is that he is +said to have been killed by three brothers named Bonney."</p> + +<p>"So you'll want just about everything, Mr. Silk," Thrombley said. +"Really, I don't know where to begin."</p> + +<p>"Start with why and how Mr. Cumshaw was killed. The rest, I believe, +will key into that."</p> + +<p>So they began; Thrombley, Stonehenge and Parros doing the talking. It +came to this:</p> + +<p>Ever since we had first established an Embassy on New Texas, the goal of +our diplomacy on this planet had been to secure it into the Solar +League. And it was a goal which seemed very little closer to realization +now than it had been twenty-three years before.</p> + +<p>"You must know, by now, what politics on this planet are like, Mr. +Silk," Thrombley said.</p> + +<p>"I have an idea. One Ambassador gone native, another gone crazy, the +third killed himself, the fourth murdered."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed. I've been here fifteen years, myself...."</p> + +<p>"That's entirely too long for anybody to be stationed in this place," I +told him. "If I'm not murdered, myself, in the next couple of weeks, I'm +going to see that you and any other member of this staff who's been here +over ten years are rotated home for a tour of duty at Department +Headquarters."</p> + +<p>"Oh, would you, Mr. Silk? I would be so happy...."</p> + +<p>Thrombley wasn't much in the way of an ally, but at least he had a +sound, selfish motive for helping me stay alive. I assured him I would +get him sent back to Luna, and then went on with the discussion.</p> + +<p>Up until six months ago, Silas Cumshaw had modeled himself after the +typical New Texas politician. He had always worn at least two faces, and +had always managed to place himself on every side of every issue at +once. Nothing he ever said could possibly be construed as controversial. +Naturally, the cause of New Texan annexation to the Solar League had +made no progress whatever.</p> + +<p>Then, one evening, at a banquet, he had executed a complete 180-degree +turn, delivering a speech in which he proclaimed that union with the +Solar League was the only possible way in which New Texans could retain +even a vestige of local sovereignty. He had talked about an invasion as +though the enemy's ships were already coming out of hyperspace, and had +named the invader, calling the z'Srauff "our common enemy." The z'Srauff +Ambassador, also present, had immediately gotten up and stalked out, +amid a derisive chorus of barking and baying from the New Texans. The +New Texans were first shocked and then wildly delighted; they had been +so used to hearing nothing but inanities and high-order abstractions +from their public figures that the Solar League Ambassador had become a +hero overnight.</p> + +<p>"Sounds as though there is a really strong sentiment at what used to be +called the grass-roots level in favor of annexation," I commented.</p> + +<p>"There is," Parros told me. "Of course, there is a very strong +isolationist, anti-annexation, sentiment, too. The sentiment in favor +of annexation is based on the point Mr. Cumshaw made—the danger of +conquest by the z'Srauff. Against that, of course, there is fear of +higher taxes, fear of loss of local sovereignty, fear of abrogation of +local customs and institutions, and chauvinistic pride."</p> + +<p>"We can deal with some of that by furnishing guarantees of local +self-government; the emotional objections can be met by convincing them +that we need the great planet of New Texas to add glory and luster to +the Solar League," I said. "You think, then, that Mr. Cumshaw was +assassinated by opponents of annexation?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, sir," Thrombley replied. "These Bonneys were only hirelings. +Here's what happened, on the day of the murder:</p> + +<p>"It was the day after a holiday, a big one here on New Texas, +celebrating some military victory by the Texans on Terra, a battle +called San Jacinto. We didn't have any business to handle, because all +the local officials were home nursing hangovers, so when Colonel Hickock +called—"</p> + +<p>"Who?" I asked sharply.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Hickock. The father of the young lady you were so attentive to +at the barbecue. He and Mr. Cumshaw had become great friends, beginning +shortly before the speech the Ambassador made at that banquet. He called +about 0900, inviting Mr. Cumshaw out to his ranch for the day, and as +there was nothing in the way of official business, Mr. Cumshaw said he'd +be out by 1030.</p> + +<p>"When he got there, there was an aircar circling about, near the +ranchhouse. As Mr. Cumshaw got out of his car and started up the front +steps, somebody in this car landed it on the driveway and began +shooting with a twenty-mm auto-rifle. Mr. Cumshaw was hit several times, +and killed instantly."</p> + +<p>"The fellows who did the shooting were damned lucky," Stonehenge took +over. "Hickock's a big rancher. I don't know how much you know about +supercow-ranching, sir, but those things have to be herded with tanks +and light aircraft, so that every rancher has at his disposal a fairly +good small air-armor combat team. Naturally, all the big ranchers are +colonels in the Armed Reserve. Hickock has about fifteen fast fighters, +and thirty medium tanks armed with fifty-mm guns. He also has some +AA-guns around his ranch house—every once in a while, these ranchers +get to squabbling among themselves.</p> + +<p>"Well, these three Bonney brothers were just turning away when a burst +from the ranch house caught their jet assembly, and they could only get +as far as Bonneyville, thirty miles away, before they had to land. They +landed right in front of the town jail.</p> + +<p>"This Bonneyville's an awful shantytown; everybody in it is related to +everybody else. The mayor, for instance, Kettle-Belly Sam Bonney, is an +uncle of theirs.</p> + +<p>"These three boys—Switchblade Joe Bonney, Jack-High Abe Bonney and +Turkey-Buzzard Tom Bonney—immediately claimed sanctuary in the jail, on +the grounds that they had been near to—get that; I think that indicates +the line they're going to take at the trial—<i>near</i> to a political +assassination. They were immediately given the protection of the jail, +which is about the only well-constructed building in the place, +practically a fort."</p> + +<p>"You think that was planned in advance?" I asked.</p> + +<p>Parros nodded emphatically. "I do. There was a hell of a big gang of +these Bonneys at the jail, almost the entire able-bodied population of +the place. As soon as Switchblade and Jack-High and Turkey-Buzzard +landed, they were rushed inside and all the doors barred. About three +minutes later, the Hickock outfit started coming in, first aircraft and +then armor. They gave that town a regular Georgie Patton style +blitzing."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I'm only sorry I wasn't there to see it," Stonehenge put in. "They +knocked down or burned most of the shanties, and then they went to work +on the jail. The aircraft began dumping these firebombs and stun-bombs +that they use to stop supercow stampedes, and the tank-guns began to +punch holes in the walls. As soon as Kettle-Belly saw what he had on his +hands, he radioed a call for Ranger protection. Our friend Captain +Nelson went out to see what the trouble was."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I got the story of that from Nelson," Parros put in. "Much as he +hated to do it, he had to protect the Bonneys. And as soon as he'd taken +a hand, Hickock had to call off his gang. But he was smart. He grabbed +everything relating to the killing—the aircar and the twenty-mm +auto-rifle in particular—and he's keeping them under cover. Very few +people know about that, or about the fact that on physical evidence +alone, he has the killing pinned on the Bonneys so well that they'll +never get away with this story of being merely innocent witnesses."</p> + +<p>"The rest, Mr. Silk, is up to us," Thrombley said. "I have Colonel +Hickock's assurance that he will give us every assistance, but we simply +must see to it that those creatures with the outlandish names are +convicted."</p> + +<p>I didn't have a chance to say anything to that: at that moment, one of +the servants ushered Captain Nelson toward us.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Captain," I greeted the Ranger. "Join us, seeing that +you're on foreign soil and consequently not on duty."</p> + +<p>He sat down with us and poured a drink.</p> + +<p>"I thought you might be interested," he said. "We gave that waiter a +going-over. We wanted to know who put him up to it. He tried to sell us +the line that he was a New Texan patriot, trying to kill a tyrant, but +we finally got the truth out of him. He was paid a thousand pesos to do +the job, by a character they call Snake-Eyes Sam Bonney. A cousin of the +three who killed Mr. Cumshaw."</p> + +<p>"Nephew of Kettle-Belly Sam," Parros interjected. "You pick him up?"</p> + +<p>Nelson shook his head disgustedly. "He's out in the high grass +somewhere. We're still looking for him. Oh, yes, and I just heard that +the trial of Switchblade, and Jack-High and Turkey-Buzzard is scheduled +for three days from now. You'll be notified in due form tomorrow, but I +thought you might like to know in advance."</p> + +<p>"I certainly do, and thank you, Captain.... We were just talking about +you when you arrived," I mentioned. "About the arrest, or rescue, or +whatever you call it, of that trio."</p> + +<p>"Yeah. One of the jobs I'm not particularly proud of. Pity Hickock's +boys didn't get hold of them before I got there. It'd of saved everybody +a lot of trouble."</p> + +<p>"Just what impression did you get at the time, Captain?" I asked. "You +think Kettle-Belly knew in advance what they were going to do?"</p> + +<p>"Sure he did. They had the whole jail fortified. Not like a jail usually +is, to keep people from getting out; but like a fort, to keep people +from getting in. There were no prisoners inside. I found out that they +had all been released that morning."</p> + +<p>He stopped, seemed to be weighing his words, then continued, speaking +very slowly.</p> + +<p>"Let me tell you first some things I can't testify to, couple of things +that I figure went wrong with their plans.</p> + +<p>"One of Colonel Hickock's men was on the porch to greet Mr. Cumshaw and +he recognized the Bonneys. That was lucky; otherwise we might still be +lookin' and wonderin' who did the shootin', which might not have been +good for New Texas."</p> + +<p>He cocked an eyebrow and I nodded. The Solar League, in similar cases, +had regarded such planetary governments as due for change without notice +and had promptly made the change.</p> + +<p>"Number two," Captain Nelson continued, "that AA-shot which hit their +aircar. I don't think they intended to land at the jail—it was just +sort of a reserve hiding-hole. But because they'd been hit, they had to +land. And they'd been slowed down so much that they couldn't dispose of +the evidence before the Colonel's boys were tappin' on the door 'n' +askin', couldn't they come in."</p> + +<p>"I gather the Colonel's task-force was becoming insistent," I prompted +him.</p> + +<p>The big Ranger grinned. "Now we're on things I can testify to.</p> + +<p>"When I got there, what had been the cell-block was on fire, and they +were trying to defend the mayor's office and the warden's office. These +Bonneys gave me the line that they'd been witnesses to the killing of +Mr. Cumshaw by Colonel Hickock and that the Hickock outfit was trying to +rub them out to keep them from testifying. I just laughed and started to +walk out. Finally, they confessed that they'd shot Mr. Cumshaw, but they +claimed it was right of action against political malfeasance. When they +did that, I had to take them in."</p> + +<p>"They confessed to you, before you arrested them?" I wanted to be sure +of that point.</p> + +<p>"That's right. I'm going to testify to that, Monday, when the trial is +held. And that ain't all: we got their fingerprints off the car, off the +gun, off some shells still in the clip, and we have the gun identified +to the shells that killed Mr. Cumshaw. We got their confession fully +corroborated."</p> + +<p>I asked him if he'd give Mr. Parros a complete statement of what he'd +seen and heard at Bonneyville. He was more than willing and I suggested +that they go into Parros' office, where they'd be undisturbed. The +Ranger and my Intelligence man got up and took a bottle of superbourbon +with them. As they were leaving, Nelson turned to Hoddy, who was still +with us.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to look to your laurels, Hoddy," Nelson said. "Your +Ambassador seems to be making quite a reputation for himself as a +gunfighter."</p> + +<p>"Look," Hoddy said, and though he was facing Nelson, I felt he was +really talking to Stonehenge, "before I'd go up against this guy, I'd +shoot myself. That way, I could be sure I'd get a nice painless job."</p> + +<p>After they were gone, I turned to Stonehenge and Thrombley. "This seems +to be a carefully prearranged killing."</p> + +<p>They agreed.</p> + +<p>"Then they knew <i>in advance</i> that Mr. Cumshaw would be on Colonel +Hickock's front steps at about 1030. <i>How did they find that out?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Why ... why, I'm sure I don't know," Thrombley said. It was most +obvious that the idea had never occurred to him before and a side glance +told me that the thought was new to Stonehenge +also. "Colonel Hickock called at 0900. Mr. Cumshaw left the Embassy in +an aircar a few minutes later. It took an hour and a half to fly out to +the Hickock ranch...."</p> + +<p>"I don't like the implications, Mr. Silk," Stonehenge said. "I can't +believe that was how it happened. In the first place, Colonel Hickock +isn't that sort of man: he doesn't use his hospitality to trap people to +their death. In the second place, he wouldn't have needed to use people +like these Bonneys. His own men would do anything for him. In the third +place, he is one of the leaders of the annexation movement here and this +was obviously an anti-annexation job. And in the fourth place—"</p> + +<p>"Hold it!" I checked him. "Are you sure he's really on the annexation +side?"</p> + +<p>He opened his mouth to answer me quickly, then closed it, waited a +moment, answered me slowly. "I can guess what you are thinking, Mr. +Silk. But, remember, when Colonel Hickock came here as our first +Ambassador, he came here as a man with a mission. He had studied the +problem and he believed in what he came for. He has never changed.</p> + +<p>"Let me emphasize this, sir: we know he has never changed. For our own +protection, we've had to check on every real leader of the annexation +movement, screening them for crackpots who might do us more harm than +good. The Colonel is with us all the way.</p> + +<p>"And now, in the fourth place, underlined by what I've just said, the +Colonel and Mr. Cumshaw were really friends."</p> + +<p>"Now you're talking!" Hoddy burst in. "I've knowed A. J. ever since I +was a kid. Ever since he married old Colonel MacTodd's daughter. That +just ain't the way A. J. works!"</p> + +<p>"On the other hand, Mr. Ambassador," Thrombley said, keeping his gaze +fixed on Hoddy's hands and apparently ready to both duck and shut up if +Hoddy moved a finger, "you will recall, I think, that Colonel Hickock +did do everything in his power to see that these Bonney brothers did not +reach court alive. And, let me add," he was getting bolder, tilting his +chin up a little, "it's a choice as simple as this: either Colonel +Hickock told them, or we have—and this is unbelievable—a traitor in +the Embassy itself."</p> + +<p>That statement rocked even Hoddy. Even though he was probably no more +than one of Natalenko's little men, he still couldn't help knowing how +thoroughly we were screened, indoctrinated, and—let's face +it—mind-conditioned. A traitor among us was unthinkable because we just +couldn't think that way.</p> + +<p>The silence, the sorrow, were palpable. Then I remembered, told them, +Hickock himself had been a Department man.</p> + +<p>Stonehenge gripped his head between his hands and squeezed as if trying +to bring out an idea. "All right, Mr. Ambassador, where are we now? +Nobody who knew could have told the Bonney boys where Mr. Cumshaw would +be at 1030, yet the three men were there waiting for him. You take it +from there. I'm just a simple military man and I'm ready to go back to +the simple military life as soon as possible."</p> + +<p>I turned to Gomez. "There could be an obvious explanation. Bring us the +official telescreen log. Let's see what calls were made. Maybe Mr. +Cumshaw himself said something to someone that gave his destination +away."</p> + +<p>"That won't be necessary," Thrombley told me. "None of the junior clerks +were on duty, and I took the only three calls that came in, myself. +First, there was the call from Colonel Hickock. Then, the call about the +wrist watch. And then, a couple of hours later, the call from the +Hickock ranch, about Mr. Cumshaw's death."</p> + +<p>"What was the call about the wrist watch?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that was from the z'Srauff Embassy," Thrombley said. "For some +time, Mr. Cumshaw had been trying to get one of the very precise +watches which the z'Srauff manufacture on their home planet. The +z'Srauff Ambassador called, that day, to tell him that they had one for +him and wanted to know when it was to be delivered. I told them the +Ambassador was out, and they wanted to know where they could call him +and I—"</p> + +<p>I had never seen a man look more horror-stricken.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God! I'm the one who told them!"</p> + +<p>What could I say? Not much, but I tried. "How could you know, Mr. +Thrombley? You did the natural, the normal, the proper thing, on a call +from one Ambassador to another."</p> + +<p>I turned to the others, who, like me, preferred not to look at +Thrombley. "They must have had a spy outside who told them the +Ambassador had left the Embassy. Alone, right? And that was just what +they'd been waiting for.</p> + +<p>"But what's this about the watch, though. There's more to this than a +simple favor from one Ambassador to another."</p> + +<p>"My turn, Mr. Ambassador," Stonehenge interrupted. "Mr. Cumshaw had been +trying to get one of the things at my insistence. Naval Intelligence is +very much interested in them and we want a sample. The z'Srauff watches +are very peculiar—they're operated by radium decay, which, of course is +a universal constant. They're uniform to a tenth second and they're all +synchronized with the official time at the capital city of the principal +z'Srauff planet. The time used by the z'Srauff Navy."</p> + +<p>Stonehenge deliberately paused, let that last phrase hang heavily in the +air for a moment, then he continued.</p> + +<p>"They're supposed to be used in religious observances—timing hours of +prayer, I believe. They can, of course, have other uses.</p> + +<p>"For example, I can imagine all those watches giving the wearer a light +electric shock, or ringing a little bell, all over New Texas, at exactly +the same moment. And then I can imagine all the z'Srauff running down +into nice deep holes in the ground."</p> + +<p>He looked at his own watch. "And that reminds me: my gang of pirates are +at the spaceport by now, ready to blast off. I wonder if someone could +drive me there."</p> + +<p>"I'll drive him, boss," Hoddy volunteered. "I ain't doin' nothin' else."</p> + +<p>I was wondering how I could break that up, plausibly and without +betraying my suspicions, when Parros and Captain Nelson came out and +joined us.</p> + +<p>"I have a lot of stuff here," Parros said. "Stuff we never seemed to +have noticed. For instance—"</p> + +<p>I interrupted. "Commander Stonehenge's going to the spaceport, now," I +said. "Suppose you ride with him, and brief him on what you learned, on +the way. Then, when he's aboard, come back and tell us."</p> + +<p>Hoddy looked at me for a long ten seconds. His expression started by +being exasperated and ended by betraying grudging admiration.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h3> + + +<p>The next morning, which was Saturday, I put Thrombley in charge of the +routine work of the Embassy, but first instructed him to answer all +inquiries about me with the statement, literally true, that I was too +immersed in work of clearing up matters left unfinished after the death +of the former Ambassador for any social activities. Then I called the +Hickock ranch in the west end of Sam Houston Continent, mentioning an +invitation the Colonel and his daughter had extended me, and told them I +would be out to see them before noon that same day. With Hoddy Ringo +driving the car, I arrived about 1000, and was welcomed by Gail and her +father, who had flown out the evening before, after the barbecue.</p> + +<p>Hoddy, accompanied by a Ranger and one of Hickock's ranch hands, all +three disguised in shabby and grease-stained cast-offs borrowed at the +ranch, and driving a dilapidated aircar from the ranch junkyard, were +sent to visit the slum village of Bonneyville. They spent all day there, +posing as a trio of range tramps out of favor with the law.</p> + +<p>I spent the day with Gail, flying over the range, visiting Hickock's +herd camps and slaughtering crews. It was a pleasant day and I managed +to make it constructive as well.</p> + +<p>Because of their huge size—they ran to a live weight of around fifteen +tons—and their uncertain disposition, supercows are not really +domesticated. Each rancher owned the herds on his own land, chiefly by +virtue of constant watchfulness over them. There were always a couple of +helicopters hovering over each herd, with fast fighter planes waiting on +call to come in and drop fire-bombs or stun-bombs in front of them if +they showed a disposition to wander too far. Naturally, things of this +size could not be shipped live to the market; they were butchered on the +range, and the meat hauled out in big 'copter-trucks.</p> + +<p>Slaughtering was dangerous and exciting work. It was done with medium +tanks mounting fifty-mm guns, usually working at the rear of the herd, +although a supercow herd could change directions almost in a second and +the killing-tanks would then find themselves in front of a stampede. I +saw several such incidents. Once Gail and I had to dive in with our car +and help turn such a stampede.</p> + +<p>We got back to the ranch house shortly before dinner. Gail went at once +to change clothes; Colonel Hickock and I sat down together for a drink +in his library, a beautiful room. I especially admired the walls, +panelled in plastic-hardened supercow-leather.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of our planet now, Mr. Silk?" Colonel Hickock asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, Colonel, your final message to the State was part of the briefing +I received," I replied. "I must say that I agree with your opinions. +Especially with your opinion of local political practices. Politics is +nothing, here, if not exciting and exacting."</p> + +<p>"You don't understand it though." That was about half-question and +half-statement. "Particularly our custom of using politicians as clay +pigeons."</p> + +<p>"Well, it is rather unusual...."</p> + +<p>"Yes." The dryness in his tone was a paragraph of comment on my +understatement. "And it's fundamental to our system of government.</p> + +<p>"You were out all afternoon with Gail; you saw how we have to handle the +supercow herds. Well, it is upon the fact that every rancher must have +at his disposal a powerful force of aircraft and armor, easily +convertible to military uses, that our political freedom rests. You see, +our government is, in effect, an oligarchy of the big landowners and +ranchers, who, in combination, have enough military power to overturn +any Planetary government overnight. And, on the local level, it is a +paternalistic feudalism.</p> + +<p>"That's something that would have stood the hair of any Twentieth +Century 'Liberal' on end. And it gives us the freest government anywhere +in the galaxy.</p> + +<p>"There were a number of occasions, much less frequent now than formerly, +when coalitions of big ranches combined their strength and marched on +the Planetary government to protect their rights from government +encroachment. This sort of thing could only be resorted to in defense of +some inherent right, and never to infringe on the rights of others. +Because, in the latter case, other armed coalitions would have arisen, +as they did once or twice during the first three decades of New Texan +history, to resist.</p> + +<p>"So the right of armed intervention by the people when the government +invaded or threatened their rights became an acknowledged part of our +political system.</p> + +<p>"And—this arises as a natural consequence—you can't give a man with +five hundred employees and a force of tanks and aircraft the right to +resist the government, then at the same time deny that right to a man +who has only his own pistol or machete."</p> + +<p>"I notice the President and the other officials have themselves +surrounded by guards to protect them from individual attack," I said. +"Why doesn't the government, as such, protect itself with an army and +air force large enough to resist any possible coalition of the big +ranchers?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Because we won't let the government get that strong!</i>" the Colonel +said forcefully. "That's one of the basic premises. We have no standing +army, only the New Texas Rangers. And the legislature won't authorize +any standing army, or appropriate funds to support one. Any member of +the legislature who tried it would get what Austin Maverick got, a +couple of weeks ago, or what Sam Saltkin got, eight years ago, when he +proposed a law for the compulsory registration and licensing of +firearms. The opposition to that tax scheme of Maverick's wasn't because +of what it would cost the public in taxes, but from fear of what the +government could do with the money after they got it.</p> + +<p>"Keep a government poor and weak and it's your servant; let it get rich +and powerful and it's your master. We don't want any masters here on +New Texas."</p> + +<p>"But the President has a bodyguard," I noted.</p> + +<p>"Casualty rate was too high," Hickock explained. "Remember, the +President's job is inherently impossible: he has to represent <i>all</i> the +people."</p> + +<p>I thought that over, could see the illogical logic, but ... "How about +your rancher oligarchy?"</p> + +<p>He laughed. "Son, if I started acting like a master around this ranch in +the morning, they'd find my body in an irrigation ditch before sunset.</p> + +<p>"Sure, if you have a real army, you can keep the men under your +thumb—use one regiment or one division to put down mutiny in another. +But when you have only five hundred men, all of whom know everybody else +and all of them armed, you just act real considerate of them if you want +to keep on living."</p> + +<p>"Then would you say that the opposition to annexation comes from the +people who are afraid that if New Texas enters the Solar League, there +will be League troops sent here and this ... this interesting system of +insuring government responsibility to the public would be brought to an +end?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. If you can show the people of this planet that the League won't +interfere with local political practices, you'll have a 99.95 percent +majority in favor of annexation. We're too close to the z'Srauff +star-cluster, out here, not to see the benefits of joining the Solar +League."</p> + +<p>We left the Hickock ranch on Sunday afternoon and while Hoddy guided our +air-car back to New Austin, I had a little time to revise some of my +ideas about New Texas. That is, I had time to think during those few +moments when Hoddy wasn't taking advantage of our diplomatic immunity to +invent new air-ground traffic laws.</p> + +<p>My thoughts alternated between the pleasure of remembering Gail's gay +company and the gloom of understanding the complete implications of the +Colonel's clarifying lectures. Against the background of his remarks, I +could find myself appreciating the Ghopal-Klüng-Natalenko reasoning: the +only way to cut the Gordian knot was to have another Solar League +Ambassador killed.</p> + +<p>And, whenever I could escape thinking about the fact that the next +Ambassador to be the clay pigeon was me, I found myself wondering if I +wanted the League to take over. Annexation, yes; New Texas customs would +be protected under a treaty of annexation. But the "justified conquest" +urged by Machiavelli, Jr.? No.</p> + +<p>I was still struggling with the problem when we reached the Embassy +about 1700. Everyone was there, including Stonehenge, who had returned +two hours earlier with the good news that the fleet had moved into +position only sixty light-minutes off Capella IV. I had reached the +point in my thinking where I had decided it was useless to keep Hoddy +and Stonehenge apart except as an exercise in mental agility. Inasmuch +as my brain was already weight-lifting, swinging from a flying trapeze +to elusive flying rings while doing triple somersaults and at the same +time juggling seven Indian clubs, I skipped the whole matter.</p> + +<p>But I'm fairly certain that it wasn't till then that Hoddy had a chance +to deliver his letter-of-credence to Stonehenge.</p> + +<p>After dinner, we gathered in my office for our coffee and a final +conference before the opening of the trial the next morning.</p> + +<p>Stonehenge spoke first, looking around the table at everyone except me.</p> + +<p>"No matter what happens, we have the fleet within call. Sir Rodney's +been active picking up those z'Srauff meteor-mining boats. They no +longer have a tight screen around the system. We do. I don't think that +anyone, except us, knows that the fleet's where it is."</p> + +<p><i>No matter what happens</i>, I thought glumly, and the phrase explained why +he hadn't been able to look at me.</p> + +<p>"Well, boss, I gave you my end of it, comin' in," Hoddy said. "Want me +to go over it again? All right. In Bonneyville, we found half a dozen +people who can swear that Kettle-Belly Sam Bonney was making +preparations to protect those three brothers an hour before Ambassador +Cumshaw was shot. The whole town's sorer than hell at Kettle-Belly for +antagonizing the Hickock outfit and getting the place shot up the way it +was. And we have witnesses that Kettle-Belly was in some kind of deal +with the z'Srauff, too. The Rangers gathered up eight of them, who can +swear to the preparations and to the fact that Kettle-Belly had z'Srauff +visitors on different occasions before the shooting."</p> + +<p>"That's what we want," Stonehenge said. "Something that'll connect this +murder with the z'Srauff."</p> + +<p>"Well, wait till you hear what I've got," Parros told him. "In the first +place, we traced the gun and the air-car. The Bonney brothers bought +them both from z'Srauff merchants, for ridiculously nominal prices. The +merchant who sold the aircar is normally in the dry-goods business, and +the one who sold the auto-rifle runs a toy shop. In their whole lives, +those three boys never had enough money among them to pay the list price +of the gun, let alone the car. That is, not until a week before the +murder."</p> + +<p>"They got prosperous, all of a sudden?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Two weeks before the shooting, Kettle-Belly Sam's bank account got +a sudden transfusion: some anonymous benefactor deposited 250,000 +pesos—about a hundred thousand dollars—to his credit. He drew out +75,000 of it and some of the money turned up again in the hands of +Switchblade and Jack-High and Turkey-Buzzard. Then, a week before you +landed here, he got another hundred thousand from the same anonymous +source and he drew out twenty thousand of that. We think that was the +money that went to pay for the attempted knife-job on Hutchinson. Two +days before the barbecue, the waiter deposited a thousand at the New +Austin Packers' and Shippers' Trust."</p> + +<p>"Can you get that introduced as evidence at the trial?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Sure. Kettle-Belly banks at a town called Crooked Creek, about forty +miles from Bonneyville. We have witnesses from the bank.</p> + +<p>"I also got the dope on the line the Bonney brothers are going to take +at the trial. They have a lawyer, Clement A. Sidney, a member of what +passes for the Socialist Party on this planet. The defense will take the +line of full denial of everything. The Bonneys are just three poor but +honest boys who are being framed by the corrupt tools of the Big +Ranching Interests."</p> + +<p>Hoddy made an impolite noise. "Whatta we got to worry about, then?" he +demanded. "They're a cinch for conviction."</p> + +<p>"I agree with that," Stonehenge said. "If they tried to base their +defense on political conviction and opposition by the Solar League, they +might have a chance. This way, they haven't."</p> + +<p>"All right, gentlemen," I said, "I take it that we're agreed that we +must all follow a single line of policy and not work at cross-purposes +to each other?"</p> + +<p>They all agreed to that instantly, but with a questioning note in their +voices.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I trust you all realize that we cannot, under any +circumstances, allow those three brothers to be convicted in this +court," I added.</p> + +<p>There was a moment of startled silence, while Hoddy and Stonehenge and +Parros and Thrombley were understanding what they had just heard. Then +Stonehenge cleared his throat and said:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ambassador! I'm sure that you have some excellent reasons for that +remarkable statement, but I must say—"</p> + +<p>"It was a really colossal error on somebody's part," I said, "that this +case was allowed to get into the Court of Political Justice. It never +should have. And if we take a part in the prosecution, or allow those +men to be convicted, we will establish a precedent to support the +principle that a foreign Ambassador is, on this planet, defined as a +practicing local politician.</p> + +<p>"I will invite you to digest that for a moment."</p> + +<p>A moment was all they needed. Thrombley was horrified and dithered +incoherently. Stonehenge frowned and fidgeted with some papers in front +of him. I could see several thoughts gathering behind his eyes, +including, I was sure, a new view of his instructions from Klüng.</p> + +<p>Even Hoddy got at least part of it. "Why, that means that anybody can +bump off any diplomat he doesn't like...." he began.</p> + +<p>"That is only part of it, Mr. Ringo," Thrombley told him. "It also means +that a diplomat, instead of being regarded as the representative of his +own government, becomes, in effect, a functionary of the government of +New Texas. Why, all sorts of complications could arise...."</p> + +<p>"It certainly would impair, shall we say, the principle of +extraterritoriality of Embassies," Stonehenge picked it up. "And it +would practically destroy the principle of diplomatic immunity."</p> + +<p>"Migawd!" Hoddy looked around nervously, as though he could already hear +an army of New Texas Rangers, each with a warrant for Hoddy Ringo, +battering at the gates.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to do something!" Gomez, the Secretary of the Embassy, said.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what," Stonehenge said. "The obvious solution would be, of +course, to bring charges against those Bonney Boys on simple +first-degree murder, which would be tried in an ordinary criminal court. +But it's too late for that now. We wouldn't have time to prevent their +being arraigned in this Political Justice court, and once a defendant is +brought into court, on this planet, he cannot be brought into court +again for the same act. Not the same <i>crime</i>, the same <i>act</i>."</p> + +<p>I had been thinking about this and I was ready. "Look, we must bring +those Bonney brothers to trial. It's the only effective way of +demonstrating to the public the simple fact that Ambassador Cumshaw was +murdered at the instigation of the z'Srauff. We dare not allow them to +be convicted in the Court of Political Justice, for the reasons already +stated. And to maintain the prestige of the Solar League, we dare not +allow them to go unpunished."</p> + +<p>"We can have it one way," Parros said, "and maybe we can have it two +ways. But I'm damned if I can see how we can have it all three ways."</p> + +<p>I wasn't surprised that he didn't see it; he hadn't had the same urgency +goading him which had forced me to find the answer. It wasn't an answer +that I liked, but I was in the position where I had no choice.</p> + +<p>"Well, here's what we have to do, gentlemen," I began, and from the +respectful way they regarded me, from the attention they were giving my +words, I got a sudden thrill of pride. For the first time since my +scrambled arrival, I was really <i>Ambassador</i> Stephen Silk.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h3> + + +<p>A couple of New Texas Ranger tanks met the Embassy car four blocks from +the Statehouse and convoyed us into the central plaza, where the +barbecue had been held on the Friday afternoon that I had arrived on New +Texas. There was almost as dense a crowd as the last time I had seen the +place; but they were quieter, to the extent that there were no bands, +and no shooting, no cowbells or whistles. The barbecue pits were going +again, however, and hawkers were pushing or propelling their little +wagons about, vending sandwiches. I saw a half a dozen big twenty-foot +teleview screens, apparently wired from the courtroom.</p> + +<p>As soon as the Embassy car and its escorting tanks reached the plaza, an +ovation broke out. I was cheered, with the high-pitched <i>yipeee!</i> of New +Texans and adjured and implored not to let them so-and-sos get away with +it.</p> + +<p>There was a veritable army of Rangers on guard at the doors of the +courtroom. The only spectators being admitted to the courtroom seemed to +be prominent citizens with enough pull to secure passes.</p> + +<p>Inside, some of the spectators' benches had been removed to clear the +front of the room. In the cleared space, there was one bulky shape +under a cloth cover that seemed to be the air-car and another +cloth-covered shape that looked like a fifty-mm dual-purpose gun. +Smaller exhibits, including a twenty-mm auto-rifle, were piled on the +friends-of-the-court table. The prosecution table was already +occupied—Colonel Hickock, who waved a greeting to me, three or four men +who looked like well-to-do ranchers, and a delegation of lawyers.</p> + +<p>"Samuel Goodham," Parros, beside me, whispered, indicating a big, +heavy-set man with white hair, dressed in a dark suit of the cut that +had been fashionable on Terra seventy-five years ago. "Best criminal +lawyer on the planet. Hickock must have hired him."</p> + +<p>There was quite a swarm at the center table, too. Some of them were +ranchers, a couple in aggressively shabby workclothes, and there were +several members of the Diplomatic Corps. I shook hands with them and +gathered that they, like myself, were worried about the precedent that +might be established by this trial. While I was introducing Hoddy Ringo +as my attaché extraordinary, which was no less than the truth, the +defense party came in.</p> + +<p>There were only three lawyers—a little, rodent-faced fellow, whom +Parros pointed out as Clement Sidney, and two assistants. And, guarded +by a Ranger and a couple of court-bailiffs, the three defendants, +Switchblade Joe, Jack-High Abe and Turkey-Buzzard Tom Bonney. There was +probably a year or so age different from one to another, but they +certainly had a common parentage. They all had pale eyes and narrow, +loose-lipped faces. Subnormal and probably psychopathic, I thought. +Jack-High Abe had his left arm in a sling and his left shoulder in a +plaster cast. The buzz of conversation among the spectators altered its +tone subtly and took on a note of hostility as they entered and seated +themselves.</p> + +<p>The balcony seemed to be crowded with press representatives. Several +telecast cameras and sound pickups had been rigged to cover the front of +the room from various angles, a feature that had been missing from the +trial I had seen with Gail on Friday.</p> + +<p>Then the judges entered from a door behind the bench, which must have +opened from a passageway under the plaza, and the court was called to +order.</p> + +<p>The President Judge was the same Nelson who had presided at the Whately +trial and the first thing on the agenda seemed to be the selection of a +new board of associate judges. Parros explained in a whisper that the +board which had served on the previous trial would sit until that could +be done.</p> + +<p>A slip of paper was drawn from a box and a name was called. A man +sitting on one of the front rows of spectators' seats got up and came +forward. One of Sidney's assistants rummaged through a card file he had +in front of him and handed a card to the chief of the defense. At once, +Sidney was on his feet.</p> + +<p>"Challenged, for cause!" he called out. "This man is known to have +declared, in conversation at the bar of the Silver Peso Saloon, here in +New Austin, that these three boys, my clients, ought all to be hanged +higher than Haman."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I said that!" the venireman declared. "I'll repeat it right here: +all three of these murdering skunks ought to be hanged higher than—"</p> + +<p>"Your Honor!" Sidney almost screamed. "If, after hearing this man's +brazen declaration of bigoted class hatred against my clients, he is +allowed to sit on that bench—"</p> + +<p>Judge Nelson pounded with his gavel. "You don't have to instruct me in +my judicial duties, Counselor," he said. "The venireman has obviously +disqualified himself by giving evidence of prejudice. Next name."</p> + +<p>The next man was challenged: he was a retired packing-house operator in +New Austin, and had once expressed the opinion that Bonneyville and +everybody in it ought to be H-bombed off the face of New Texas.</p> + +<p>This Sidney seemed to have gotten the name of everybody likely to be +called for court duty and had something on each one of them, because he +went on like that all morning.</p> + +<p>"You know what I think," Stonehenge whispered to me, leaning over behind +Parros. "I think he's just stalling to keep the court in session until +the z'Srauff fleet gets here. I wish we could get hold of one of those +wrist watches."</p> + +<p>"I can get you one, before evening," Hoddy offered, "if you don't care +what happens to the mutt that's wearin' it."</p> + +<p>"Better not," I decided. "Might tip them off to what we suspect. And we +don't really need one: Sir Rodney will have patrols out far enough to +get warning in time."</p> + +<hr style="width: 50%;"/> + +<p>We took an hour, at noon, for lunch, and then it began again. By 1647, +fifteen minutes before court should be adjourned, Judge Nelson ordered +the bailiff to turn the clock back to 1300. The clock was turned back +again when it reached 1645. By this time, Clement Sidney was probably +the most unpopular man on New Texas.</p> + +<p>Finally, Colonel Andrew J. Hickock rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Your Honor: the present court is not obliged to retire from the bench +until another court has been chosen as they are now sitting as a court +in being. I propose that the trial begin, with the present court on the +bench."</p> + +<p>Sidney began yelling protests. Hoddy Ringo pulled his neckerchief around +under his left ear and held the ends above his head. Nanadabadian, the +Ambassador from Beta Cephus IV, drew his biggest knife and began trying the edge +on a sheet of paper.</p> + +<p>"Well, Your Honor, I certainly do not wish to act in an obstructionist +manner. The defense agrees to accept the present court," Sidney decided.</p> + +<p>"Prosecution agrees to accept the present court," Goodham parroted.</p> + +<p>"The present court will continue on the bench, to try the case of the +Friends of Silas Cumshaw, deceased, versus Switchblade Joe Bonney, +Jack-High Abe Bonney, Turkey-Buzzard Tom Bonney, et als." Judge Nelson +rapped with his gavel. "Court is herewith adjourned until 0900 +tomorrow."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h3> + + +<p>The trial got started the next morning with a minimum amount of +objections from Sidney. The charges and specifications were duly read, +the three defendants pleaded not guilty, and then Goodham advanced with +a paper in his hand to address the court. Sidney scampered up to take +his position beside him.</p> + +<p>"Your Honor, the prosecution wishes, subject to agreement of the +defense, to enter the following stipulations, to wit: First, that the +late Silas Cumshaw was a practicing politician within the meaning of the +law. Second, that he is now dead, and came to his death in the manner +attested to by the coroner of Sam Houston Continent. Third, that he came +to his death at the hands of the defendants here present."</p> + +<p>In all my planning, I'd forgotten that. I couldn't let those +stipulations stand without protest, and at the same time, if I protested +the characterization of Cumshaw as a practicing politician, the trial +could easily end right there. So I prayed for a miracle, and Clement +Sidney promptly obliged me.</p> + +<p>"Defense won't stipulate anything!" he barked. "My clients, here, are +victims of a monstrous conspiracy, a conspiracy to conceal the true +facts of the death of Silas Cumshaw. They ought never to have been +arrested or brought here, and if the prosecution wants to establish +anything, they can do it by testimony, in the regular and lawful way. +This practice of free-wheeling stipulation is only one of the many +devices by which the courts of this planet are being perverted to serve +the corrupt and unjust ends of a gang of reactionary landowners!"</p> + +<p>Judge Nelson's gavel hit the bench with a crack like a rifle shot.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Sidney! In justice to your clients, I would hate to force them to +change lawyers in the middle of their trial, but if I hear another +remark like that about the courts of New Texas, that's exactly what will +happen, because you'll be in jail for contempt! Is that clear, Mr. +Sidney?"</p> + +<p>I settled back with a deep sigh of relief which got me, I noticed, +curious stares from my fellow Ambassadors. I disregarded the questions +in their glances; I had what I wanted.</p> + +<p>They began calling up the witnesses.</p> + +<p>First, the doctor who had certified Ambassador Cumshaw's death. He gave +a concise description of the wounds which had killed my predecessor. +Sidney was trying to make something out of the fact that he was +Hickock's family physician, and consuming more time, when I got up.</p> + +<p>"Your Honor, I am present here as <i>amicus curiae</i>, because of the +obvious interest which the Government of the Solar League has in this +case...."</p> + +<p>"Objection!" Sidney yelled.</p> + +<p>"Please state it," Nelson invited.</p> + +<p>"This is a court of the people of the planet of New Texas. This foreign +emissary of the Solar League, sent here to +conspire with New Texan traitors to the end that New Texans shall be +reduced to a supine and ravished satrapy of the all-devouring empire of +the Galaxy—"</p> + +<p>Judge Nelson rapped sharply.</p> + +<p>"Friends of the court are defined as persons having a proper interest in +the case. As this case arises from the death of the former Ambassador of +the Solar League, I cannot see how the present Ambassador and his staff +can be excluded. Overruled." He nodded to me. "Continue, Mr. +Ambassador."</p> + +<p>"As I understand, I have the same rights of cross-examination of +witnesses as counsel for the prosecution and defense; is that correct, +Your Honor?" It was, so I turned to the witness. "I suppose, Doctor, +that you have had quite a bit of experience, in your practice, with +gunshot wounds?"</p> + +<p>He chuckled. "Mr. Ambassador, it is gunshot-wound cases which keep the +practice of medicine and surgery alive on this planet. Yes, I definitely +have."</p> + +<p>"Now, you say that the deceased was hit by six different projectiles: +right shoulder almost completely severed, right lung and right ribs +blown out of the chest, spleen and kidneys so intermingled as to be +practically one, and left leg severed by complete shattering of the left +pelvis and hip-joint?"</p> + +<p>"That's right."</p> + +<p>I picked up the 20-mm auto-rifle—it weighed a good sixty pounds—from +the table, and asked him if this weapon could have inflicted such +wounds. He agreed that it both could and had.</p> + +<p>"This the usual type of weapon used in your New Texas political +liquidations?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. The usual weapons are pistols; sometimes a hunting-rifle +or a shotgun."</p> + +<p>I asked the same question when I cross-examined the ballistics witness.</p> + +<p>"Is this the usual type of weapon used in your New Texas political +liquidations?"</p> + +<p>"No, not at all. That's a very expensive weapon, Mr. Ambassador. Wasn't +even manufactured on this planet; made by the z'Srauff star-cluster. A +weapon like that sells for five, six hundred pesos. It's used for +shooting really big game—supermastodon, and things like that. And, of +course, for combat."</p> + +<p>"It seems," I remarked, "that the defense is overlooking an obvious +point there. I doubt if these three defendants ever, in all their lives, +had among them the price of such a weapon."</p> + +<p>That, of course, brought Sidney to his feet, sputtering objections to +this attempt to disparage the honest poverty of his clients, which only +helped to call attention to the point.</p> + +<p>Then the prosecution called in a witness named David Crockett +Longfellow. I'd met him at the Hickock ranch; he was Hickock's butler. +He limped from an old injury which had retired him from work on the +range. He was sworn in and testified to his name and occupation.</p> + +<p>"Do you know these three defendants?" Goodham asked him.</p> + +<p>"Yeah. I even marked one of them for future identification," Longfellow +replied.</p> + +<p>Sidney was up at once, shouting objections. After he was quieted down, +Goodham remarked that he'd come to that point later, and began a line of +questioning to establish that Longfellow had been on the Hickock ranch +on the day when Silas Cumshaw was killed.</p> + +<p>"Now," Goodham said, "will you relate to the court the matters of +interest which came to your personal observation on that day."</p> + +<p>Longfellow began his story. "At about 0900, I was dustin' up and +straightenin' things in the library while the Colonel was at his desk. +All of a sudden, he said to me, 'Davy, suppose you call the Solar +Embassy and see if Mr. Cumshaw is doin' anything today; if he isn't, ask +him if he wants to come out.' I was workin' right beside the +telescreen. So I called the Solar League Embassy. Mr. +Thrombley took the call, and I asked him was Mr. Cumshaw around. By this +time, the Colonel got through with what he was doin' at the desk and +came over to the screen. I went back to my work, but I heard the Colonel +askin' Mr. Cumshaw could he come out for the day, an' Mr. Cumshaw +sayin', yes, he could; he'd be out by about 1030.</p> + +<p>"Well, 'long about 1030, his air-car came in and landed on the drive. +Little single-seat job that he drove himself. He landed it about a +hundred feet from the outside veranda, like he usually did, and got out.</p> + +<p>"Then, this other car came droppin' in from outa nowhere. I didn't pay +it much attention; thought it might be one of the other Ambassadors that +Mr. Cumshaw'd brung along. But Mr. Cumshaw turned around and looked at +it, and then he started to run for the veranda. I was standin' in the +doorway when I seen him startin' to run. I jumped out on the porch, +quick-like, and pulled my gun, and then this auto-rifle begun firin' +outa the other car. There was only eight or ten shots fired from this +car, but most of them hit Mr. Cumshaw."</p> + +<p>Goodham waited a few moments. Longfellow's voice had choked and there +was a twitching about his face, as though he were trying to suppress +tears.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mr. Longfellow," Goodham said, "did you recognize the people who +were in the car from which the shots came?"</p> + +<p>"Yeah. Like I said, I cut a mark on one of them. That one there: +Jack-High Abe Bonney. He was handlin' the gun, and from where I was, he +had his left side to me. I was tryin' for his head, but I always +overshoot, so I have the habit of holdin' low. This time I held too +low." He looked at Jack-High in coldly poisonous hatred. "I'll be sorry +about that as long as I live."</p> + +<p>"And who else was in the car?"</p> + +<p>"The other two curs outa the same litter: Switchblade an' +Turkey-Buzzard, over there."</p> + +<p>Further questioning revealed that Longfellow had had no direct knowledge +of the pursuit, or the siege of the jail in Bonneyville. Colonel Hickock +had taken personal command of that, and had left Longfellow behind to +call the Solar League Embassy and the Rangers. He had made no attempt to +move the body, but had left it lying in the driveway until the doctor +and the Rangers arrived.</p> + +<p>Goodham went to the middle table and picked up a heavy automatic pistol.</p> + +<p>"I call the court's attention to this pistol. It is an eleven-mm +automatic, manufactured by the Colt Firearms Company of New Texas, a +licensed subsidiary of the Colt Firearms Company of Terra." He handed it +to Longfellow. "Do you know this pistol?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Longfellow was almost insulted by the question. Of course he knew his +own pistol. He recited the serial number, and pointed to different scars +and scratches on the weapon, telling how they had been acquired.</p> + +<p>"The court accepts that Mr. Longfellow knows his own weapon," Nelson +said. "I assume that this is the weapon with which you claim to have +shot Jack-High Abe Bonney?"</p> + +<p>It was, although Longfellow resented the qualification.</p> + +<p>"That's all. Your witness, Mr. Sidney," Goodham said.</p> + +<p>Sidney began an immediate attack.</p> + +<p>Questioning Longfellow's eyesight, intelligence, honesty and integrity, +he tried to show personal enmity toward the Bonneys. He implied that +Longfellow had been conspiring with Cumshaw to bring about the conquest +of New Texas by the Solar League. The verbal exchange became so heated +that both witness and attorney had to be admonished repeatedly from the +bench. But at no point did Sidney shake Longfellow from his one +fundamental statement, that the Bonney brothers had shot Silas Cumshaw +and that he had shot Jack-High Abe Bonney in the shoulder.</p> + +<p>When he was finished, I got up and took over.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Longfellow, you say that Mr. Thrombley answered the screen at the +Solar League Embassy," I began. "You know Mr. Thrombley?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, Mr. Silk. He's been out at the ranch with Mr. Cumshaw a lotta +times."</p> + +<p>"Well, beside yourself and Colonel Hickock and Mr. Cumshaw and, +possibly, Mr. Thrombley, who else knew that Mr. Cumshaw would be at the +ranch at 1030 on that morning?"</p> + +<p>Nobody. But the aircar had obviously been waiting for Mr. Cumshaw; the +Bonneys must have had advance knowledge. My questions made that point +clear despite the obvious—and reluctantly court-sustained—objections +from Mr. Sidney.</p> + +<p>"That will be all, Mr. Longfellow; thank you. Any questions from anybody +else?"</p> + +<p>There being none, Longfellow stepped down. It was then a few minutes +before noon, so Judge Nelson recessed court for an hour and a half.</p> + +<hr style="width: 50%;"/> + +<p>In the afternoon, the surgeon who had treated Jack-High Abe Bonney's +wounded shoulder testified, identifying the bullet which had been +extracted from Bonney's shoulder. A ballistics man from Ranger crime-lab +followed him to the stand and testified that it had been fired from +Longfellow's Colt. Then Ranger Captain Nelson took the stand. His +testimony was about what he had given me at the Embassy, with the +exception that the Bonneys' admission that they had shot Ambassador +Cumshaw was ruled out as having been made under duress.</p> + +<p>However, Captain Nelson's testimony didn't need the confessions.</p> + +<p>The cover was stripped off the air-car, and a couple of men with a +power-dolly dragged it out in front of the bench. The Ranger Captain +identified it as the car which he had found at the Bonneyville jail. He +went over it with an ultra-violet flashlight and showed where he had +written his name and the date on it with fluorescent ink. The effects of +AA-fire were plainly evident on it.</p> + +<p>Then the other shrouded object was unveiled and identified as the gun +which had disabled the air-car. Colonel Hickock identified the gun as +the one with which he had fired on the air-car. Finally, the ballistics +expert was brought back to the stand again, to link the two by means of +fragments found in the car.</p> + +<p>Then Goodham brought Kettle-Belly Sam Bonney to the stand.</p> + +<p>The Mayor of Bonneyville was a man of fifty or so, short, partially +bald, dressed in faded blue Levis, a frayed white shirt, and a +grease-spotted vest. There was absolutely no mystery about how he had +acquired his nickname. He disgorged a cud of tobacco into a spittoon, +took the oath with unctuous solemnity, then reloaded himself with +another chew and told his version of the attack on the jail.</p> + +<p>At about 1045 on the day in question, he testified, he had been in his +office, hard at work in the public service, when an air-car, partially +disabled by gunfire, had landed in the street outside and the three +defendants had rushed in, claiming sanctuary. From then on, the story +flowed along smoothly, following the lines predicted by Captain Nelson +and Parros. Of course he had given the fugitives shelter; they had +claimed to have been near to a political assassination and were in fear +of their lives.</p> + +<p>Under Sidney's cross-examination, and coaching, he poured out the story +of Bonneyville's wrongs at the hands of the reactionary landowners, and +the atrocious behavior of the Hickock goon-gang. Finally, after +extracting the last drop of class-hatred venom out of him, Sidney turned +him over to me.</p> + +<p>"How many men were inside the jail when the three defendants came +claiming sanctuary?" I asked.</p> + +<p>He couldn't rightly say, maybe four or five.</p> + +<p>"Closer twenty-five, according to the Rangers. How many of them were +prisoners in the jail?"</p> + +<p>"Well, none. The prisoners was all turned out that mornin'. They was +just common drunks, disorderly conduct cases, that kinda thing. We +turned them out so's we could make some repairs."</p> + +<p>"You turned them out because you expected to have to defend the jail; +because you knew in advance that these three would be along claiming +sanctuary, and that Colonel Hickock's ranch hands would be right on +their heels, didn't you?" I demanded.</p> + +<p>It took a good five minutes before Sidney stopped shouting long enough +for Judge Nelson to sustain the objection.</p> + +<p>"You knew these young men all their lives, I take it. What did you know +about their financial circumstances, for instance?"</p> + +<p>"Well, they've been ground down an' kept poor by the big ranchers an' +the money-guys...."</p> + +<p>"Then weren't you surprised to see them driving such an expensive +aircar?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know as it's such an expensive—" he shut his mouth suddenly.</p> + +<p>"You know where they got the money to buy that car?" I pressed.</p> + +<p>Kettle-Belly Sam didn't answer.</p> + +<p>"From the man who paid them to murder Ambassador Silas Cumshaw?" I kept +pressing. "Do you know how much they were paid for that job? Do you know +where the money came from? Do you know who the go-between was, and how +much he got, and how much he kept for himself? Was it the same source +that paid for the recent attempt on President Hutchinson's life?"</p> + +<p>"I refuse to answer!" the witness declared, trying to shove his chest +out about half as far as his midriff. "On the grounds that it might +incriminate or degrade me!"</p> + +<p>"You can't degrade a Bonney!" a voice from the balcony put in.</p> + +<p>"So then," I replied to the voice, "what he means is, incriminate." I +turned to the witness. "That will be all. Excused."</p> + +<p>As Bonney left the stand and was led out the side door, Goodham +addressed the bench.</p> + +<p>"Now, Your Honor," he said, "I believe that the prosecution has +succeeded in definitely establishing that these three defendants +actually did fire the shot which, on April 22, 2193, deprived Silas +Cumshaw of his life. We will now undertake to prove...."</p> + +<p>Followed a long succession of witnesses, each testifying to some public +or private act of philanthropy, some noble trait of character. It was +the sort of thing which the defense lawyer in the Whately case had been +so willing to stipulate. Sidney, of course, tried to make it all out to +be part of a sinister conspiracy to establish a Solar League fifth +column on New Texas. Finally, the prosecution rested its case.</p> + +<p>I entertained Gail and her father at the Embassy, that evening. The +street outside was crowded with New Texans, all of them on our side, +shouting slogans like, "Death to the Bonneys!" and "Vengeance for +Cumshaw!" and "Annexation Now!" Some of it was entirely spontaneous, +too. The Hickocks, father and daughter, were given a tremendous ovation, +when they finally left, and followed to their hotel by cheering crowds. +I saw one big banner, lettered: 'DON'T LET NEW TEXAS GO TO THE DOGS.' +and bearing a crude picture of a z'Srauff. I seemed to recall having +seen a couple of our Marines making that banner the evening before in +the Embassy patio, but....</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h3> + + +<p>The next morning, the third of the trial, opened with the defense +witnesses, character-witnesses for the three killers and witnesses to +the political iniquities of Silas Cumshaw.</p> + +<p>Neither Goodham nor I bothered to cross-examine the former. I couldn't +see how any lawyer as shrewd as Sidney had shown himself to be would +even dream of getting such an array of thugs, cutthroats, sluts and +slatterns into court as character witnesses for anybody.</p> + +<p>The latter, on the other hand, we went after unmercifully, revealing, +under their enmity for Cumshaw, a small, hard core of bigoted xenophobia +and selfish fear. Goodham did a beautiful job on that; he seemed able, +at a glance, to divine exactly what each witness's motivation was, and +able to make him or her betray that motivation in its least admirable +terms. Finally the defense rested, about a quarter-hour before noon.</p> + +<p>I rose and addressed the court:</p> + +<p>"Your Honor, while both the prosecution and the defense have done an +admirable job in bringing out the essential facts of how my predecessor +met his death, there are many features about this case which are far +from clear to me. They will be even less clear to my government, which +is composed of men who have never set foot on this planet. For this +reason, I wish to call, or recall, certain witnesses to clarify these points."</p> + +<p>Sidney, who had begun shouting objections as soon as I had gotten to my +feet, finally managed to get himself recognized by the court.</p> + +<p>"This Solar League Ambassador, Your Honor, is simply trying to use the +courts of the Planet of New Texas as a sounding-board for his +imperialistic government's propaganda...."</p> + +<p>"You may reassure yourself, Mr. Sidney," Judge Nelson said. "This court +will not allow itself to be improperly used, or improperly swayed, by +the Ambassador of the Solar League. This court is interested only in +determining the facts regarding the case before it. You may call your +witnesses, Mr. Ambassador." He glanced at his watch. "Court will now +recess for an hour and a half; can you have them here by 1330?"</p> + +<p>I assured him I could after glancing across the room at Ranger Captain +Nelson and catching his nod.</p> + +<hr style="width: 50%;"/> + +<p>My first witness, that afternoon was Thrombley. After the formalities of +getting his name and connection with the Solar League Embassy on the +record, I asked him, "Mr. Thrombley, did you, on the morning of April +22, receive a call from the Hickock ranch for Mr. Cumshaw?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, Mr. Ambassador. The call was from Mr. Longfellow, Colonel +Hickock's butler. He asked if Mr. Cumshaw were available. It happened +that Mr. Cumshaw was in the same room with me, and he came directly to +the screen. Then Colonel Hickock appeared in the screen, and inquired +if Mr. Cumshaw could come out to the ranch for the day; he said +something about superdove shooting."</p> + +<p>"You heard Mr. Cumshaw tell Colonel Hickock that he would be out at the +ranch at about 1030?" Thrombley said he had. "And, to your knowledge, +did anybody else at the Embassy hear that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, sir; we were in the Ambassador's private office, and the screen +there is tap-proof."</p> + +<p>"And what other calls did you receive, prior to Mr. Cumshaw's death?"</p> + +<p>"About fifteen minutes after Mr. Cumshaw had left, the z'Srauff +Ambassador called, about a personal matter. As he was most anxious to +contact Mr. Cumshaw, I told him where he had gone."</p> + +<p>"Then, to your knowledge, outside of yourself, Colonel Hickock, and his +butler, the z'Srauff Ambassador was the only person who could have known +that Mr. Cumshaw's car would be landing on Colonel Hickock's drive at or +about 1030. Is that correct?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, plus anybody whom the z'Srauff Ambassador might have told."</p> + +<p>"Exactly!" I pounced. Then I turned and gave the three Bonney brothers a +sweeping glance. "Plus anybody the z'Srauff Ambassador might have +told.... That's all. Your witness, Mr. Sidney."</p> + +<p>Sidney got up, started toward the witness stand, and then thought better +of it.</p> + +<p>"No questions," he said.</p> + +<p>The next witness was a Mr. James Finnegan; he was identified as cashier +of the Crooked Creek National Bank. I asked him if Kettle-Belly Sam +Bonney did business at his bank; he said yes.</p> + +<p>"Anything unusual about Mayor Bonney's account?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's been unusually active lately. Ordinarily, he carries around +two-three thousand pesos, but about the first of April, that took a big +jump. Quite a big jump; two hundred and fifty thousand pesos, all in a +lump."</p> + +<p>"When did Kettle-Belly Sam deposit this large sum?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"He didn't. The money came to us in a cashier's check on the Ranchers' +Trust Company of New Austin with an anonymous letter asking that it be +deposited to Mayor Bonney's account. The letter was typed on a sheet of +yellow paper in Basic English."</p> + +<p>"Do you have that letter now?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't. After we'd recorded the new balance, Kettle-Belly came +storming in, raising hell because we'd recorded it. He told me that if +we ever got another deposit like that, we were to turn it over to him in +cash. Then he wanted to see the letter, and when I gave it to him, he +took it over to a telescreen booth, and drew the curtains. I got a +little busy with some other matters, and the next time I looked, +Kettle-Belly was gone and some girl was using the booth."</p> + +<p>"That's very interesting, Mr. Finnegan. Was that the last of your +unusual business with Mayor Bonney?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. Then, about two weeks before Mr. Cumshaw was killed, +Kettle-Belly came in and wanted 50,000 pesos, in a big hurry, in small +bills. I gave it to him, and he grabbed at the money like a starved dog +at a bone, and upset a bottle of red perma-ink, the sort we use to +refill our bank seals. Three of the bills got splashed. I offered to +exchange them, but he said, 'Hell with it; I'm in a hurry,' and went +out. The next day, Switchblade Joe Bonney came in to make payment on a +note we were holding on him. He used those three bills in the payment.</p> + +<p>"Then, about a week ago, there was another cashier's check came in for +Kettle-Belly. This time, there was no letter; just one of our regular +deposit-slips. No name of depositor. I held the check, and gave it to +Kettle-Belly. I remember, when it came in, I said to one of the clerks, +'Well, I wonder who's going to get bumped off this time.' And sure +enough ..."</p> + +<p>Sidney's yell of, "Objection!" was all his previous objections gathered +into one.</p> + +<p>"You say the letter accompanying the first deposit, the one in Basic +English, was apparently taken away by Kettle-Belly Sam Bonney. If you +saw another letter of the same sort, would you be able to say whether or +not it might be like the one you mentioned?"</p> + +<p>Sidney vociferating more objections; I was trying to get expert +testimony without previous qualification....</p> + +<p>"Not at all, Mr. Sidney," Judge Nelson ruled. "Mr. Silk has merely asked +if Mr. Finnegan could say whether one document bore any resemblance to +another."</p> + +<p>I asked permission to have another witness sworn in while Finnegan was +still on the stand, and called in a Mr. Boone, the cashier of the +Packers' and Brokers' Trust Company of New Austin. He had with him a +letter, typed on yellow paper, which he said had accompanied an +anonymous deposit of two hundred thousand pesos. Mr. Finnegan said that +it was exactly like the one he had received, in typing, grammar and +wording, all but the name of the person to whose account the money was +to be deposited.</p> + +<p>"And whose account received this anonymous benefaction, Mr. Boone?" I +asked.</p> + +<p>"The account," Boone replied, "of Mr. Clement Sidney."</p> + +<p>I was surprised that Judge Nelson didn't break the handle of his gavel, +after that. Finally, after a couple of threats to clear the court, order +was restored. Mr. Sidney had no questions to ask this time, either.</p> + +<p>The bailiff looked at the next slip of paper I gave him, frowned over +it, and finally asked the court for assistance.</p> + +<p>"I can't pronounce this-here thing, at all," he complained.</p> + +<p>One of the judges finally got out a mouthful of growls and yaps, and +gave it to the clerk of the court to copy into the record. The next +witness was a z'Srauff, and in the New Texan garb he was wearing, he was +something to open my eyes, even after years on the Hooligan Diplomats.</p> + +<p>After he took the stand, the clerk of the court looked at him blankly +for a moment. Then he turned to Judge Nelson.</p> + +<p>"Your Honor, how am I gonna go about swearing him in?" he asked. "What +does a z'Srauff swear by, that's binding?"</p> + +<p>The President Judge frowned for a moment. "Does anybody here know Basic +well enough to translate the oath?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I think I can," I offered. "I spent a great many years in our Consular +Service, before I was sent here. We use Basic with a great many alien +peoples."</p> + +<p>"Administer the oath, then," Nelson told me.</p> + +<p>"Put up right hand," I told the z'Srauff. "Do you truly say, in front of +Great One who made all worlds, who has knowledge of what is in the +hearts of all persons, that what you will say here will be true, all +true, and not anything that is not true, and will you so say again at +time when all worlds end? Do you so truly say?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I so truly say."</p> + +<p>"Say your name."</p> + +<p>"Ppmegll Kkuvtmmecc Cicici."</p> + +<p>"What is your business?"</p> + +<p>"I put things made of cloth into this world, and I take meat out of this +world."</p> + +<p>"Where do you have your house?"</p> + +<p>"Here in New Austin, over my house of business, on Coronado Street."</p> + +<p>"What people do you see in this place that you have made business with?"</p> + +<p>Ppmegll Kkuvtmmecc Cicici pointed a three-fingered hand at the Bonney +brothers.</p> + +<p>"What business did you make with them?"</p> + +<p>"I gave them for money a machine which goes on the ground and goes in +the air very fast, to take persons and things about."</p> + +<p>"Is that the thing you gave them for money?" I asked, pointing at the +exhibit air-car.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but it was new then. It has been made broken by things from guns +now."</p> + +<p>"What money did they give you for the machine?"</p> + +<p>"One hundred pesos."</p> + +<p>That started another uproar. There wasn't a soul in that courtroom who +didn't know that five thousand pesos would have been a give-away bargain +price for that car.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ambassador," one of the associate judges interrupted. "I used to be +in the used-car business. Am I expected to believe that this ... this +being ... sold that air-car for a hundred pesos?"</p> + +<p>"Here's a notarized copy of the bill of sale, from the office of the +Vehicles Registration Bureau," I said. "I introduce it as evidence."</p> + +<p>There was a disturbance at the back of the room, and then the z'Srauff +Ambassador, Gglafrr Ddespttann Vuvuvu, came stalking down the aisle, +followed by a couple of Rangers and two of his attachés. He came forward +and addressed the court.</p> + +<p>"May you be happy, sir, but I am in here so quickly not because I have +desire to make noise, but because it is only short time since it got in +my knowledge that one of my persons is in this place. I am here to be of +help to him that he not get in trouble, and to be of help to you. The +name for what I am to do in this place is not part of my knowledge. +Please say it for me."</p> + +<p>"You are a friend of the court," Judge Nelson told him. "An <i>amicus +curiae</i>."</p> + +<p>"You make me happy. Please go on; I have no desire to put stop to what +you do in this place."</p> + +<p>"From what person did you get this machine that you gave to these +persons for one hundred pesos?" I asked.</p> + +<p>Gglafrr immediately began barking and snarling and yelping at my +witness. The drygoods importer looked startled, and Judge Nelson banged +with his gavel.</p> + +<p>"That's enough of that! There'll be nothing spoken in this court but +English, except through an interpreter!"</p> + +<p>"Yow! I am sad that what I did was not right," the z'Srauff Ambassador +replied contritely. "But my person here has not as part of his knowledge +that you will make him say what may put him in trouble."</p> + +<p>Nelson nodded in agreement.</p> + +<p>"You are right: this person who is here has no need to make answer to +any question if it may put him in trouble or make him seem less than he +is."</p> + +<p>"I will not make answer," the witness said.</p> + +<p>"No further questions."</p> + +<p>I turned to Goodham, and then to Sidney; they had no questions, either. +I handed another slip of paper to the bailiff, and another z'Srauff, +named Bbrarkk Jjoknyyegg Kekeke took the stand.</p> + +<p>He put into this world things for small persons to make amusement with; +he took out of this world meat and leather. He had his house of business +in New Austin, and he pointed out the three Bonneys as persons in this +place that he saw that he had seen before.</p> + +<p>"And what business did you make with them?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"I gave them for money a gun which sends out things of +twenty-millimeters very fast, to make death or hurt come to men and +animals and does destruction to machines and things."</p> + +<p>"Is this the gun?" I showed it to him.</p> + +<p>"It could be. The gun was made in my world; many guns like it are made +there. I am certain that this is the very gun."</p> + +<p>I had a notarized copy of a customs house bill in which the gun was +described and specified by serial number. I introduced it as evidence.</p> + +<p>"How much money did these three persons give you for this gun?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Five pesos."</p> + +<p>"The customs appraisal on this gun is six hundred pesos," I mentioned.</p> + +<p>Immediately, Ambassador Vuvuvu was on his feet. "My person here has not +as part of his knowledge that he may put himself in trouble by what he +says to answer these questions."</p> + +<p>That put a stop to that. Bbrarkk Jjoknyyegg Kekeke immediately took +refuge in refusal to answer on grounds of self-incrimination.</p> + +<p>"That is all, Your Honor," I said, "And now," I continued, when the +witness had left the stand, "I have something further to present to the +court, speaking both as <i>amicus curiae</i> and as Ambassador of the Solar +League. This court cannot convict the three men who are here on trial. +These men should have never been brought to trial in this court: it has +no jurisdiction over this case. This was a simple case of first-degree +murder, by hired assassins, committed against the Ambassador of one +government at the instigation of another, not an act of political +protest within the meaning of New Texan law."</p> + +<p>There was a brief silence; both the court and the spectators were +stunned, and most stunned of all were the three Bonney brothers, who had +been watching, fear-sick, while I had been putting a rope around their +necks. The uproar from the rear of the courtroom gave Judge Nelson a +needed minute or so to collect his thoughts. After he had gotten order +restored, he turned to me, grim-faced.</p> + +<p>"Ambassador Silk, will you please elaborate on the extraordinary +statement you have just made," he invited, as though every word had +sharp corners that were sticking in his throat.</p> + +<p>"Gladly, Your Honor." My words, too, were gouging and scraping my throat +as they came out; I could feel my knees getting absurdly weak, and my +mouth tasted as though I had an old copper penny in it.</p> + +<p>"As I understand it, the laws of New Texas do not extend their ordinary +protection to persons engaged in the practice of politics. An act of +personal injury against a politician is considered criminal only to the +extent that the politician injured has not, by his public acts, deserved +the degree of severity with which he has been injured, and the Court of +Political Justice is established for the purpose of determining whether +or not there has been such an excess of severity in the treatment meted +out by the accused to the injured or deceased politician. This gives +rise, of course, to some interesting practices; for instance, what is at +law a trial of the accused is, in substance, a trial of his victim. But +in any case tried in this court, the accused must be a person who has +injured or killed a man who is definable as a practicing politician +under the government of New Texas.</p> + +<p>"Speaking for my government, I must deny that these men should have been +tried in this court for the murder of Silas Cumshaw. To do otherwise +would establish the principle and precedent that our Ambassador, or any +other Ambassador here, is a practicing politician under—mark that well, +Your Honor—under the laws and government of New Texas. This would not +only make of any Ambassador a permissable target for any marksman who +happened to disapprove of the policies of another government, but more +serious, it would place the Ambassador and his government in a +subordinate position relative to the government of New Texas. This the +government of the Solar League simply cannot tolerate, for reasons which +it would be insulting to the intelligence of this court to enumerate."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Silk," Judge Nelson said gravely. "This court takes full cognizance +of the force of your arguments. However, I'd like to know why you +permitted this trial to run to this length before entering this +objection. Surely you could have made clear the position of your +government at the beginning of this trial."</p> + +<p>"Your Honor," I said, "had I done so, these defendants would have been +released, and the facts behind their crime would have never come to +light. I grant that the important function of this court is to determine +questions of relative guilt and innocence. We must not lose sight, +however, of the fact that the primary function of any court is to +determine the truth, and only by the process of the trial of these +depraved murderers-for-hire could the real author of the crime be +uncovered.</p> + +<p>"This was important, both for the government of the Solar League and the +government of New Texas. My government now knows who procured the death +of Silas Cumshaw, and we will take appropriate action. The government +of New Texas has now had spelled out, in letters anyone can read, the +fact that this beautiful planet is in truth a <i>battleground</i>. Awareness +of this may save New Texas from being the scene of a larger and more +destructive battle. New Texas also knows who are its enemies, and who +can be counted upon to stand as its friends."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Silk. Mr. Vuvuvu, I haven't heard any comment from you.... No +comment? Well, we'll have to close the court, to consider this phase of +the question."</p> + +<p>The black screen slid up, for the second time during the trial. There +was silence for a moment, and then the room became a bubbling pot of +sound. At least six fights broke out among the spectators within three +minutes; the Rangers and court bailiffs were busy restoring order.</p> + +<p>Gail Hickock, who had been sitting on the front row of the spectators' +seats, came running up while I was still receiving the congratulations +of my fellow diplomats.</p> + +<p>"Stephen! How <i>could</i> you?" she demanded. "You know what you've done? +You've gotten those murdering snakes turned loose!"</p> + +<p>Andrew Jackson Hickock left the prosecution table and approached.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Silk! You've just secured the freedom of three men who murdered one +of my best friends!"</p> + +<p>"Colonel Hickock, I believe I knew Silas Cumshaw before you did. He was +one of my instructors at Dumbarton Oaks, and I have always had the +deepest respect and admiration for him. But he taught me one thing, +which you seem to have forgotten since you expatriated yourself—that +in the Diplomatic Service, personal feelings don't count. The only +thing of importance is the advancement of the policies of the Solar +League."</p> + +<p>"Silas and I were attachés together, at the old Embassy at Drammool, on +Altair II," Colonel Hickock said. What else he might have said was lost +in the sudden exclamation as the black screen slid down. In front of +Judge Nelson, I saw, there were three pistol-belts, and three pairs of +automatics.</p> + +<p>"Switchblade Joe Bonney, Jack-High Abe Bonney, Turkey-Buzzard Tom +Bonney, together with your counsel, approach the court and hear the +verdict," Judge Nelson said.</p> + +<p>The three defendants and their lawyer rose. The Bonneys were swaggering +and laughing, but for a lawyer whose clients had just emerged from the +shadow of the gallows, Sidney was looking remarkably unhappy. He +probably had imagination enough to see what would be waiting for him +outside.</p> + +<p>"It pains me inexpressibly," Judge Nelson said, "to inform you three +that this court cannot convict you of the cowardly murder of that +learned and honorable old man, Silas Cumshaw, nor can you be brought to +trial in any other court on New Texas again for that dastardly crime. +Here are your weapons, which must be returned to you. Sort them out +yourselves, because I won't dirty my fingers on them. And may you regret +and feel shame for your despicable act as long as you live, which I hope +won't be more than a few hours."</p> + +<p>With that, he used the end of his gavel to push the three belts off the +bench and onto the floor at the Bonneys' feet. They stood laughing at +him for a few moments, then stopped, picked the belts up, drew the +pistols to check magazines and chambers, and then began slapping each +others' backs and shouting jubilant congratulations at one +another. Sidney's two assistants and some of his friends came up and +began pumping Sidney's hands.</p> + +<p>"There!" Gail flung at me. "Now look at your masterpiece! Why don't you +go up and congratulate him, too?"</p> + +<p>And with that, she slapped me across the face. It hurt like the devil; +she was a lot stronger than I'd expected.</p> + +<p>"In about two minutes," I told her, "you can apologize to me for that, +or weep over my corpse. Right now, though, you'd better be getting +behind something solid."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h3> + + +<p>I turned and stepped forward to confront the Bonneys, mentally thanking +Gail. Up until she'd slapped me, I'd been weak-kneed and dry-mouthed +with what I had to do. Now I was just plain angry, and I found that I +was thinking a lot more clearly. Jack-High Bonney's wounded left +shoulder, I knew, wouldn't keep him from using his gun hand, but his +shoulder muscles would be stiff enough to slow his draw. I'd intended +saving him until I'd dealt with his brothers. Now, I remembered how he'd +gotten that wound in the first place: he'd been the one who'd used the +auto-rifle, out at the Hickock ranch. So I changed my plans and moved +him up to top priority.</p> + +<p>"Hold it!" I yelled at them. "You've been cleared of killing a +politician, but you still have killing a Solar League Ambassador to +answer for. Now get your hands full of guns, if you don't want to die +with them empty!"</p> + +<p>The crowd of sympathizers and felicitators simply exploded away from the +Bonney brothers. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sidney and a fat, +blowsy woman with brass-colored hair as they both tried to dive under +the friends-of-the-court table at the same place. The Bonney brothers +simply stood and stared at me, for an instant, unbelievingly, as I got +my thumbs on the release-studs of my belt. Judge Nelson's gavel was +hammering, and he was shouting:</p> + +<p> +"Court–of–Political–Justice–Confederate–Continent–of–New–Texas–is–herewith–adjourned–reconvene–0900–tomorrow. +<i>Hit the floor!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Damn! He means it!" Switchblade Joe Bonney exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Then they all reached for their guns. They were still reaching when I +pressed the studs and the Krupp-Tattas popped up into my hands, and I +swung up my right-hand gun and shot Jack-High through the head. After +that, I just let my subconscious take over. I saw gun flames jump out at +me from the Bonneys' weapons, and I felt my own pistols leap and writhe +in my hands, but I don't believe I was aware of hearing the shots, not +even from my own weapons. The whole thing probably lasted five seconds, +but it seemed like twenty minutes to me. Then there was nobody shooting +at me, and nobody for me to shoot at; the big room was silent, and I was +aware that Judge Nelson and his eight associates were rising cautiously +from behind the bench.</p> + +<p>I holstered my left-hand gun, removed and replaced the magazine of the +right-hand gun, then holstered it and reloaded the other one. Hoddy +Ringo and Francisco Parros and Commander Stonehenge were on their feet, +their pistols drawn, covering the spectators' seats. Colonel Hickock had +also drawn a pistol and he was covering Sidney with it, occasionally +moving the muzzle to the left to include the z'Srauff Ambassador and his +two attachés.</p> + +<p>By this time, Nelson and the other eight judges were in their seats, +trying to look calm and judicial.</p> + +<p>"Your Honor," I said, "I fully realize that no judge likes to have his +court turned into a shooting gallery. I can assure you, however, that my +action here was not the result of any lack of respect for this court. It +was pure necessity. Your Honor can see that: my government could not +permit this crime against its Ambassador to pass unpunished."</p> + +<p>Judge Nelson nodded solemnly. "Court was adjourned when this little +incident happened, Mr. Silk," he said.</p> + +<p>He leaned forward and looked to where the three Bonney brothers were +making a mess of blood on the floor. "I trust that nobody will construe +my unofficial and personal comments here as establishing any legal +precedent, and I wouldn't like to see this sort of thing become +customary ... but ... you did that all by yourself, with those little +beanshooters?... Not bad, not bad at all, Mr. Silk."</p> + +<p>I thanked him, then turned to the z'Srauff Ambassador. I didn't bother +putting my remarks into Basic. He understood, as well as I did, what I +was saying.</p> + +<p>"Look, Fido," I told him, "my government is quite well aware of the +source from which the orders for the murder of my predecessor came. +These men I just killed were only the tools.</p> + +<p>"We're going to get the brains behind them, if we have to send every +warship we own into the z'Srauff star-cluster and devastate every planet +in it. We don't let dogs snap at us. And when they do, we don't kick +them, we shoot them!"</p> + +<p>That, of course, was not exactly striped-pants diplomatic language. I +wondered, for a moment, what Norman Gazarian, the protocol man, would +think if he heard an Ambassador calling another Ambassador Fido.</p> + +<p>But it seemed to be the kind of language that Mr. Vuvuvu understood. He +skinned back his upper lip at me and began snarling and growling. Then +he turned on his hind paws and padded angrily down the aisle away from +the front of the courtroom.</p> + +<p>The spectators around him and above him began barking, baying, yelping +at him: "Tie a can to his tail!" "Git for home, Bruno!"</p> + +<p>Then somebody yelled, "Hey, look! Even his wrist watch is blushing!"</p> + +<p>That was perfectly true. Mr. Gglafrr Ddespttann Vuvuvu's watch-face, +normally white, was now glowing a bright ruby-red.</p> + +<p>I looked at Stonehenge and found him looking at me. It would be full +dark in four or five hours; there ought to be something spectacular to +see in the cloudless skies of Capella IV tonight.</p> + +<p>Fleet Admiral Sir Rodney Tregaskis would see to that.</p> + +<p class="center"><i> +FROM REPORT<br /> +OF SPACE-COMMANDER STONEHENGE<br /> +TO SECRETARY OF AGGRESSION, KLÜNG:</i></p> + +<p><i> ... so the measures considered by yourself +and Secretary of State Ghopal Singh and Security +Coördinator Natalenko, as transmitted to me by +Mr. Hoddy Ringo, were not, I am glad to say, +needed. Ambassador Silk, alive, handled the +thing much better than Ambassador Silk, dead, +could possibly have. +<br /><br /> +... to confirm Sir Rodney Tregaskis' report +from the tales of the few survivors, the z'Srauff +attack came as the Ambassador had expected. +They dropped out of hyperspace about seventy +light-minutes outside the Capella system, apparently +in complete ignorance of the presence of +our fleet. +<br /><br /> +... have learned the entire fleet consisted of +about three hundred spaceships and reports +reaching here indicate that no more than twenty +got back to z'Srauff Cluster. +<br /><br /> +... naturally, the whole affair has had a profound +influence, an influence to the benefit of the +Solar League, on all shades of public opinion. +<br /><br /> +... as you properly assumed, Mr. Hoddy +Ringo is no longer with us. When it became apparent +that the Palme-Silk Annexation Treaty +would be ratified here, Mr. Ringo immediately +saw that his status of diplomatic immunity would +automatically terminate. Accordingly, he left this +system, embarking from New Austin for Alderbaran +IX, mentioning, as he shook hands with me, +something about a widow. By a curious coincidence, +the richest branch bank in the city was +held up by a lone bandit about half an hour before +he boarded the space-ship....</i></p> + +<hr style="width: 50%;"/> + +<p class="center"> +<i>FINAL MESSAGE<br /> +OF THE LAST SOLAR AMBASSADOR TO NEW<br /> +TEXAS</i><br /> +STEPHEN SILK +</p> + +<p><i>Copies of the Treaty of Annexation, duly ratified by the New Texas +Legislature, herewith.</i></p> + +<p><i>Please note that the guarantees of non-intervention in local +political institutions are the very minimum which are acceptable +to the people of New Texas. They are especially adamant that there +will be no change in their peculiar methods of insuring that their +elected and appointed public officials shall be responsible to the +electorate.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i>DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM</i></p> + +<p><i>After the ratification of the Palme-Silk treaty, Mr. Silk remained +on New Texas, married the daughter of a local rancher there (see +file on First Ambassador, Colonel Andrew Jackson Hickock) and is +still active in politics on that planet, often in opposition to +Solar League policies, which he seems to anticipate with an almost +uncanny prescience.</i></p> + +<p>Natalenko re-read the addendum, pursed his thick lips and sighed. There +were so many ways he could be using Mr. Stephen Silk....</p> + +<p>For example—he looked at the tri-di star-map, both usefully and +beautifully decorating his walls—over there, where Hoddy Ringo had +gone, near Alderbaran IX.</p> + +<p>Those were twin planets, one apparently settled by the equivalent +descendants of the Edwards and the other inhabited by the children of a +Jukes-Kallikak union. Even the Solar League Ambassadors there had taken +the viewpoints of the planets to whom they were accredited, instead of +the all-embracing view which their training should have given them....</p> + +<p>Curious problem ... and, how would Stephen Silk have handled it?</p> + +<p>The Security Coördinator scrawled a note comprehensible only to +himself....</p> + + +<h4>THE END</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>Brilliant New Novel from Award-Winning Author of Alien Embassy!</h2> + +<p>In MIRACLE VISITORS, Ian Watson has created a fascinating novel that +explores the UFO phenomenon, a novel that will endlessly intrigue and +envelop the reader. $1.95</p> + +<p>[Illustration: Book Cover]</p> + +<p>Available wherever books are sold, or order by mail from Book Mailing +Service, Box 690, Rockville Centre, N.Y. 11571. Please add 50¢ postage +and handling. 109</p> + + +<p>ACE SCIENCE FICTION 360 PARK AVENUE SOUTH · NEW YORK, N.Y. 10010</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Zero_Population_Growth_Achieved" id="Zero_Population_Growth_Achieved"></a><b>Zero Population Growth Achieved!</b></h2> + +<p>But at what cost? The world now exists with a mandatory abortion law and +sexual freedom reigns. Is this truly a world where ... LOVE CONQUERS ALL</p> + +<p>$1.95</p> + +<p>[Illustration: Book Cover]</p> + +<p>Available wherever books are sold, or order by mail from Book Mailing +Service, Box 690, Rockville Centre, N.Y. 11571. Please add 50¢ postage +and handling. 110</p> + + +<p>ACE SCIENCE FICTION 360 PARK AVENUE SOUTH ·NEW YORK, N.Y. 10010</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>Four-Day Planet</h2> + +<p>Fenris isn't a hell planet, but it's nobody's bargain. With 2,000-hour +days and an 8,000-hour year, it alternates blazing heat with killing +cold. A planet like that tends to breed a special kind of person: tough +enough to stay alive and smart enough to make the best of it. When that +kind of person discovers he's being cheated of wealth he's risked his +life for, that kind of planet is ripe for revolution.</p> + + +<h2>Lone Star Planet</h2> + +<p>New Texas: its citizens figure that name about says it all. The Solar +League ambassador to the Lone Star Planet has the unenviable task of +convincing New Texans that a s'Srauff attack is imminent, and dangerous. +Unfortunately it's common knowledge that the s'Srauff are evolved from +canine ancestors—and not a Texan alive is about to be scared of a +talking dog! But unless he can get them to act, and fast, there won't be +a Texan alive, scared or otherwise!</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lone Star Planet +by Henry Beam Piper and John Joseph McGuire + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LONE STAR PLANET *** + +***** This file should be named 20121-h.htm or 20121-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/1/2/20121/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Malcolm Farmer, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Lone Star Planet + +Author: Henry Beam Piper and John Joseph McGuire + +Release Date: January 3, 2007 [EBook #20121] +[This file was first posted on December 16, 2006] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LONE STAR PLANET *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Malcolm Farmer, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + LONE STAR PLANET + + by + + H. Beam Piper and John J. McGuire + + + + +Transcriber's Note: +This etext was prepared from a 1979 reprint of the 1958 original. There is +no evidence that the copyright on this publication was renewed. +Obvious typesetting errors in the source text have been corrected + + + + + + + +Lone Star Planet + +SF + +ace books + +A Division of Charter Communications Inc. + +A GROSSET & DUNLAP COMPANY + +360 Park Avenue South + +New York, New York 10010 + +LONE STAR PLANET + +Copyright (C) 1958 by Ace Books, Inc. + +Originally published as A PLANET FOR TEXANS + +All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form +or by any means, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a +review, without permission in writing from the publisher. + +All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual +persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. + +This Ace Printing: April 1979 + +Printed in U.S.A. + + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +They started giving me the business as soon as I came through the door +into the Secretary's outer office. + +There was Ethel K'wang-Li, the Secretary's receptionist, at her desk. +There was Courtlant Staynes, the assistant secretary to the +Undersecretary for Economic Penetration, and Norman Gazarin, from +Protocol, and Toby Lawder, from Humanoid Peoples' Affairs, and Raoul +Chavier, and Hans Mannteufel, and Olga Reznik. + +It was a wonder there weren't more of them watching the condemned man's +march to the gibbet: the word that the Secretary had called me in must +have gotten all over the Department since the offices had opened. + +"Ah, Mr. Machiavelli, I presume," Ethel kicked off. + +"Machiavelli, Junior." Olga picked up the ball. "At least, that's the +way he signs it." + +"God's gift to the Consular Service, and the Consular Service's gift to +Policy Planning," Gazarin added. + +"Take it easy, folks. These Hooligan Diplomats would as soon shoot you +as look at you," Mannteufel warned. + +"Be sure and tell the Secretary that your friends all want important +posts in the Galactic Empire." Olga again. + +"Well, I'm glad some of you could read it," I fired back. "Maybe even a +few of you understood what it was all about." + +"Don't worry, Silk," Gazarin told me. "Secretary Ghopal understands what +it was all about. All too well, you'll find." + +A buzzer sounded gently on Ethel K'wang-Li's desk. She snatched up the +handphone and whispered into it. A deathly silence filled the room while +she listened, whispered some more, then hung it up. + +They were all staring at me. + +"Secretary Ghopal is ready to see Mr. Stephen Silk," she said. "This +way, please." + +As I started across the room, Staynes began drumming on the top of the +desk with his fingers, the slow reiterated rhythm to which a man marches +to a military execution. + +"A cigarette?" Lawder inquired tonelessly. "A glass of rum?" + + +There were three men in the Secretary of State's private office. Ghopal +Singh, the Secretary, dark-faced, gray-haired, slender and elegant, +meeting me halfway to his desk. Another slender man, in black, with a +silver-threaded, black neck-scarf: Rudolf Klueng, the Secretary of the +Department of Aggression. + +And a huge, gross-bodied man with a fat baby-face and opaque black eyes. + +When I saw him, I really began to get frightened. + +The fat man was Natalenko, the Security Cooerdinator. + +"Good morning, Mister Silk," Secretary Ghopal greeted me, his hand +extended. "Gentlemen, Mr. Stephen Silk, about whom we were speaking. +This way, Mr. Silk, if you please." + +There was a low coffee-table at the rear of the office, and four easy +chairs around it. On the round brass table-top were cups and saucers, a +coffee urn, cigarettes--and a copy of the current issue of the _Galactic +Statesmen's Journal_, open at an article entitled _Probable Future +Courses of Solar League Diplomacy_, by somebody who had signed himself +Machiavelli, Jr. + +I was beginning to wish that the pseudonymous Machiavelli, Jr. had never +been born, or, at least, had stayed on Theta Virgo IV and been a +wineberry planter as his father had wanted him to be. + +As I sat down and accepted a cup of coffee, I avoided looking at the +periodical. They were probably going to hang it around my neck before +they shoved me out of the airlock. + +"Mr. Silk is, as you know, in our Consular Service," Ghopal was saying +to the others. "Back on Luna on rotation, doing something in Mr. +Halvord's section. He is the gentleman who did such a splendid job for +us on Assha--Gamma Norma III. + +"And, as he has just demonstrated," he added, gesturing toward the +_Statesman's Journal_ on the Benares-work table, "he is a student both +of the diplomacy of the past and the implications of our present +policies." + +"A bit frank," Klueng commented dubiously. + +"But judicious," Natalenko squeaked, in the high eunuchoid voice that +came so incongruously from his bulk. "He aired his singularly accurate +predictions in a periodical that doesn't have a circulation of more than +a thousand copies outside his own department. And I don't think the +public's semantic reactions to the terminology of imperialism is as bad +as you imagine. They seem quite satisfied, now, with the change in the +title of your department, from Defense to Aggression." + +"Well, we've gone into that, gentlemen," Ghopal said. "If the article +really makes trouble for us, we can always disavow it. There's no +censorship of the _Journal_. And Mr. Silk won't be around to draw fire +on us." + +_Here it comes_, I thought. + +"That sounds pretty ominous, doesn't it, Mr. Silk?" Natalenko tittered +happily, like a ten-year-old who has just found a new beetle to pull the +legs out of. + +"It's really not as bad as it sounds, Mr. Silk," Ghopal hastened to +reassure me. "We are going to have to banish you for a while, but I +daresay that won't be so bad. The social life here on Luna has probably +begun to pall, anyhow. So we're sending you to Capella IV." + +"Capella IV," I repeated, trying to remember something about it. Capella +was a GO-type, like Sol; that wouldn't be so bad. + +"New Texas," Klueng helped me out. + +_Oh, God, no!_ I thought. + +"It happens that we need somebody of your sort on that planet, Mr. +Silk," Ghopal said. "Some of the trouble is in my department and some of +it is in Mr. Klueng's; for that reason, perhaps it would be better if +Cooerdinator Natalenko explained it to you." + +"You know, I assume, our chief interest in New Texas?" Natalenko asked. + +"I had some of it for breakfast, sir," I replied. "Supercow." + +Natalenko tittered again. "Yes, New Texas is the butcher shop of the +galaxy. In more ways than one, I'm afraid you'll find. They just +butchered one of our people there a short while ago. Our Ambassador, in +fact." + +That would be Silas Cumshaw, and this was the first I'd heard about it. + +I asked when it had happened. + +"A couple of months ago. We just heard about it last evening, when the +news came in on a freighter from there. Which serves to point up +something you stressed in your article--the difficulties of trying to +run a centralized democratic government on a galactic scale. But we have +another interest, which may be even more urgent than our need for New +Texan meat. You've heard, of course, of the z'Srauff." + +That was a statement, not a question; Natalenko wasn't trying to insult +me. I knew who the z'Srauff were; I'd run into them, here and there. One +of the extra-solar intelligent humanoid races, who seemed to have been +evolved from canine or canine-like ancestors, instead of primates. Most +of them could speak Basic English, but I never saw one who would admit +to understanding more of our language than the 850-word Basic +vocabulary. They occupied a half-dozen planets in a small star-cluster +about forty light-years beyond the Capella system. They had developed +normal-space reaction-drive ships before we came into contact with +them, and they had quickly picked up the hyperspace-drive from us back +in those days when the Solar League was still playing Missionaries of +Progress and trying to run a galaxy-wide Point-Four program. + +In the past century, it had become almost impossible for anybody to get +into their star-group, although z'Srauff ships were orbiting in on every +planet that the League had settled or controlled. There were z'Srauff +traders and small merchants all over the galaxy, and you almost never +saw one of them without a camera. Their little meteor-mining boats were +everywhere, and all of them carried more of the most modern radar and +astrogational equipment than a meteor-miner's lifetime earnings would +pay for. + +I also knew that they were one of the chief causes of ulcers and +premature gray hair at the League capital on Luna. I'd done a little +reading on pre-spaceflight Terran history; I had been impressed by the +parallel between the present situation and one which had culminated, two +and a half centuries before, on the morning of 7 December, 1941. + +"What," Natalenko inquired, "do you think Machiavelli, Junior would do +about the z'Srauff?" + +"We have a Department of Aggression," I replied. "Its mottoes are, 'Stop +trouble before it starts,' and, 'If we have to fight, let's do it on the +other fellow's real estate.' But this situation is just a little too +delicate for literal application of those principles. An unprovoked +attack on the z'Srauff would set every other non-human race in the +galaxy against us.... Would an attack by the z'Srauff on New Texas +constitute just provocation?" + +"It might. New Texas is an independent planet. Its people are +descendants of emigrants from Terra who wanted to get away from the rule +of the Solar League. We've been trying for half a century to persuade +the New Texan government to join the League. We need their planet, for +both strategic and commercial reasons. With the z'Srauff for neighbors, +they need us as much at least as we need them. The problem is to make +them understand that." + +I nodded again. "And an attack by the z'Srauff would do that, too, sir," +I said. + +Natalenko tittered again. "You see, gentlemen! Our Mr. Silk picks things +up very handily, doesn't he?" He turned to Secretary of State Ghopal. +"You take it from there," he invited. + +Ghopal Singh smiled benignly. "Well, that's it, Stephen," he said. "We +need a man on New Texas who can get things done. Three things, to be +exact. + +"First, find out why poor Mr. Cumshaw was murdered, and what can be done +about it to maintain our prestige without alienating the New Texans. + +"Second, bring the government and people of New Texas to a realization +that they need the Solar League as much as we need them. + +"And, third, forestall or expose the plans for the z'Srauff invasion of +New Texas." + +_Is that all, now?_ I thought. _He doesn't want a diplomat; he wants a +magician._ + +"And what," I asked, "will my official position be on New Texas, sir? Or +will I have one, of any sort?" + +"Oh, yes, indeed, Mr. Silk. Your official position will be that of +Ambassador Plenipotentiary and Envoy Extraordinary. That, I believe, is +the only vacancy which exists in the Diplomatic Service on that planet." + +At Dumbarton Oaks Diplomatic Academy, they haze the freshmen by making +them sit on a one-legged stool and balance a teacup and saucer on one +knee while the upper classmen pelt them with ping-pong balls. Whoever +invented that and the other similar forms of hazing was one of the great +geniuses of the Service. So I sipped my coffee, set down the cup, took a +puff from my cigarette, then said: + +"I am indeed deeply honored, Mr. Secretary. I trust I needn't go into +any assurances that I will do everything possible to justify your trust +in me." + +"I believe he will, Mr. Secretary," Natalenko piped, in a manner that +chilled my blood. + +"Yes, I believe so," Ghopal Singh said. "Now, Mr. Ambassador, there's a +liner in orbit two thousand miles off Luna, which has been held from +blasting off for the last eight hours, waiting for you. Don't bother +packing more than a few things; you can get everything you'll need +aboard, or at New Austin, the planetary capital. We have a man whom +Cooerdinator Natalenko has secured for us, a native New Texan, Hoddy +Ringo by name. He'll act as your personal secretary. He's aboard the +ship now. You'll have to hurry, I'm afraid.... Well, _bon voyage_, Mr. +Ambassador." + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The death-watch outside had grown to about fifteen or twenty. They were +all waiting in happy anticipation as I came out of the Secretary's +office. + +"What did he do to you, Silk?" Courtlant Staynes asked, amusedly. + +"Demoted me. Kicked me off the Hooligan Diplomats," I said glumly. + +"Demoted you from the Consular Service?" Staynes asked scornfully. +"Impossible!" + +"Yes. He demoted me to the Cookie Pushers. Clear down to Ambassador." + +They got a terrific laugh. I went out, wondering what sort of noises +they'd make, the next morning, when the appointments sheet was posted. + + +I gathered a few things together, mostly small personal items, and all +the microfilms that I could find on New Texas, then got aboard the Space +Navy cutter that was waiting to take me to the ship. It was a four-hour +trip and I put in the time going over my hastily-assembled microfilm +library and using a stenophone to dictate a reading list for the +spacetrip. + +As I rolled up the stenophone-tape, I wondered what sort of secretary +they had given me; and, in passing, why Natalenko's department had +furnished him. + +Hoddy Ringo.... + +Queer name, but in a galactic civilization, you find all sorts of names +and all sorts of people bearing them, so I was prepared for anything. + +And I found it. + +I found him standing with the ship's captain, inside the airlock, when I +boarded the big, spherical space-liner. A tubby little man, with +shoulders and arms he had never developed doing secretarial work, and a +good-natured, not particularly intelligent face. + +_See the happy moron, he doesn't give a damn_, I thought. + +Then I took a second look at him. He might be happy, but he wasn't a +moron. He just looked like one. Natalenko's people often did, as one of +their professional assets. + +I also noticed that he had a bulge under his left armpit the size of an +eleven-mm army automatic. + +He was, I'd been told, a native of New Texas. I gathered, after talking +with him for a while, that he had been away from his home planet for +over five years, was glad to be going back, and especially glad that he +was going back under the protection of Solar League diplomatic immunity. + +In fact, I rather got the impression that, without such protection, he +wouldn't have been going back at all. + +I made another discovery. My personal secretary, it seemed, couldn't +read stenotype. I found that out when I gave him the tape I'd dictated +aboard the cutter, to transcribe for me. + +"Gosh, boss. I can't make anything out of this stuff," he confessed, +looking at the combination shorthand-Braille that my voice had put onto +the tape. + +"Well, then, put it in a player and transcribe it by ear," I told him. + +He didn't seem to realize that that could be done. + +"How did you come to be sent as my secretary, if you can't do +secretarial work?" I wanted to know. + +He got out a bag of tobacco and a book of papers and began rolling a +cigarette, with one hand. + +"Why, shucks, boss, nobody seemed to think I'd have to do this kinda +work," he said. "I was just sent along to show you the way around New +Texas, and see you don't get inta no trouble." + +He got his handmade cigarette drawing, and hitched the strap that went +across his back and looped under his right arm. "A guy that don't know +the way around can get inta a lotta trouble on New Texas. If you call +gettin' killed trouble." + +So he was a bodyguard ... and I wondered what else he was. One thing, it +would take him forty-two years to send a radio message back to Luna, and +I could keep track of any other messages he sent, in letters or on tape, +by ships. In the end, I transcribed my own tape, and settled down to +laying out my three weeks' study-course on my new post. + +I found, however, that the whole thing could be learned in a few hours. +The rest of what I had was duplication, some of it contradictory, and it +all boiled down to this: + +Capella IV had been settled during the first wave of extrasolar +colonization, after the Fourth World--or First Interplanetary--War. +Some time around 2100. The settlers had come from a place in North +America called Texas, one of the old United States. They had a lengthy +history--independent republic, admission to the United States, secession +from the United States, reconquest by the United States, and general +intransigence under the United States, the United Nations and the Solar +League. When the laws of non-Einsteinian physics were discovered and the +hyperspace-drive was developed, practically the entire population of +Texas had taken to space to find a new home and independence from +everybody. + +They had found Capella IV, a Terra-type planet, with a slightly higher +mean temperature, a lower mass and lower gravitational field, about +one-quarter water and three-quarters land-surface, at a stage of +evolutionary development approximately that of Terra during the late +Pliocene. They also found supercow, a big mammal looking like the +unsuccessful attempt of a hippopotamus to impersonate a dachshund and +about the size of a nuclear-steam locomotive. On New Texas' plains, +there were billions of them; their meat was fit for the gods of Olympus. +So New Texas had become the meat-supplier to the galaxy. + +There was very little in any of the microfilm-books about the politics +of New Texas and such as it was, it was very scornful. There were such +expressions as 'anarchy tempered by assassination,' and 'grotesque +parody of democracy.' + +There would, I assumed, be more exact information in the material which +had been shoved into my hand just before boarding the cutter from Luna, +in a package labeled _TOP SECRET: TO BE OPENED ONLY IN SPACE, AFTER THE +FIRST HYPERJUMP._ There was also a big trunk that had been placed in my +suite, sealed and bearing the same instructions. + +I got Hoddy out of the suite as soon as the ship had passed out of the +normal space-time continuum, locked the door of my cabin and opened the +parcel. + +It contained only two loose-leaf notebooks, both labeled with the Solar +League and Department seals, both adorned with the customary +bloodthirsty threats against the unauthorized and the indiscreet. They +were numbered _ONE_ and _TWO_. + +_ONE_ contained four pages. On the first, I read: + + +_FINAL MESSAGE +OF THE FIRST SOLAR LEAGUE AMBASSADOR +TO +NEW TEXAS +ANDREW JACKSON HICKOCK_ + +_I agree with none of the so-called information about this planet on +file with the State Department on Luna. The people of New Texas are +certainly not uncouth barbarians. Their manners and customs, while +lively and unconventional, are most charming. Their dress is graceful +and practical, not grotesque; their soft speech is pleasing to the ear. +Their flag is the original flag of the Republic of Texas; it is +definitely not a barbaric travesty of our own emblem. And the underlying +premises of their political system should, as far as possible, be +incorporated into the organization of the Solar League. Here politics is +an exciting and exacting game, in which only the true representative of +all the people can survive._ + + +_DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM_ + +_After five years on New Texas, Andrew Jackson Hickock resigned, married +a daughter of a local rancher and became a naturalized citizen of that +planet. He is still active in politics there, often in opposition to +Solar League policies._ + + +That didn't sound like too bad an advertisement for the planet. I was +even feeling cheerful when I turned to the next page, and: + + +_FINAL MESSAGE +OF THE SECOND SOLAR LEAGUE +AMBASSADOR TO +NEW TEXAS +CYRIL GODWINSON_ + +_Yes and no; perhaps and perhaps not; pardon me; I agree with everything +you say. Yes and no; perhaps and perhaps not; pardon me; I agree..._ + + +_DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM_ + + +_After seven years on New Texas, Ambassador Godwinson was recalled; +adjudged hopelessly insane._ + +And then: + + +_FINAL MESSAGE +OF THE THIRD SOLAR LEAGUE +AMBASSADOR TO NEW TEXAS +R. F. GULLIS_ + +_I find it very pleasant to inform you that when you are reading this, I +will be dead._ + + +_DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM_ + +_Committed suicide after six months on New Texas._ + + +I turned to the last page cautiously, found: + + +_FINAL MESSAGE +OF THE FOURTH SOLAR LEAGUE +AMBASSADOR TO NEW TEXAS +SILAS CUMSHAW_ + +_I came to this planet ten years ago as a man of pronounced and +outspoken convictions. I have managed to keep myself alive here by +becoming an inoffensive nonentity. If I continue in this course, it will +be only at the cost of my self-respect. Beginning tonight, I am going to +state and maintain positive opinions on the relation between this planet +and the Solar League._ + + +_DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM_ + +_Murdered at the home of Andrew J. Hickcock. (see p. 1.)_ + + +And that was the end of the first notebook. Nice, cheerful reading; +complete, solid briefing. + +I was, frankly, almost afraid to open the second notebook. I hefted it +cautiously at first, saw that it contained only about as many pages as +the first and that those pages were sealed with a band around them. + +I took a quick peek, read the words on the band: + +_Before reading, open the sealed trunk which has been included with your +luggage._ + +So I laid aside the book and dragged out the sealed trunk, hesitated, +then opened it. + +Nothing shocked me more than to find the trunk ... full of clothes. + +There were four pairs of trousers, light blue, dark blue, gray and +black, with wide cuffs at the bottoms. There were six or eight shirts, +their colors running the entire spectrum in the most violent shades. +There were a couple of vests. There were two pairs of short boots with +high heels and fancy leather-working, and a couple of hats with +four-inch brims. + +And there was a wide leather belt, practically a leather corset. + +I stared at the belt, wondering if I was really seeing what was in front +of me. + +Attached to the belt were a pair of pistols in right- and left-hand +holsters. The pistols were seven-mm Krupp-Tatta Ultraspeed automatics, +and the holsters were the spring-ejection, quick-draw holsters which +were the secret of the State Department Special Services. + +_This must be a mistake_, I thought. _I'm an Ambassador now and +Ambassadors never carry weapons._ + +The sanctity of an Ambassador's person not only made the carrying of +weapons unnecessary, so that an armed Ambassador was a contradiction of +diplomatic terms, but it would be an outrageous insult to the nation to +which he had been accredited. + +Like taking a poison-taster to a friendly dinner. + +Maybe I was supposed to give the belt and the holsters to Hoddy +Ringo.... + +So I tore the sealed band off the second notebook and read through it. + +I was to wear the local costume on New Texas. That was something +unusual; even in the Hooligan Diplomats, we leaned over backward in +wearing Terran costume to distinguish ourselves from the people among +whom we worked. + +I was further advised to start wearing the high boots immediately, on +shipboard, to accustom myself to the heels. These, I was informed, were +traditional. They had served a useful purpose, in the early days on +Terran Texas, when all travel had been on horseback. On horseless and +mechanized New Texas, they were a useless but venerated part of the +cultural heritage. + +There were bits of advice about the hat, and the trousers, which for +some obscure reason were known as Levis. And I was informed, as an +order, that I was to wear the belt and the pistols at all times outside +the Embassy itself. + +That was all of the second notebook. + +The two notebooks, plus my conversation with Ghopal, Klueng and +Natalenko, completed my briefing for my new post. + +I slid off my shoes and pulled on a pair of boots. They fitted +perfectly. Evidently I had been tapped for this job as soon as word of +Silas Cumshaw's death had reached Luna and there must have been some +fantastic hurrying to get my outfit ready. + +I didn't like that any too well, and I liked the order to carry the +pistols even less. Not that I had any objection to carrying weapons, +_per se_: I had been born and raised on Theta Virgo IV, where the +children aren't allowed outside the house unattended until they've +learned to shoot. + +But I did have strenuous objections to being sent, virtually ignorant of +local customs, on a mission where I was ordered to commit deliberate +provocation of the local government, immediately on the heels of my +predecessor's violent death. + +The author of _Probable Future Courses of Solar League Diplomacy_ had +recommended the use of provocation to justify conquest. If the New +Texans murdered two Solar League Ambassadors in a row, nobody would +blame the League for moving in with a space-fleet and an army.... + +I was beginning to understand how Doctor Guillotin must have felt while +his neck was being shoved into his own invention. + +I looked again at the notebooks, each marked in red: _Familiarize +yourself with contents and burn or disintegrate._ + +I'd have to do that, of course. There were a few non-humans and a lot of +non-League people aboard this ship. I couldn't let any of them find out +what we considered a full briefing for a new Ambassador. + +So I wrapped them in the original package and went down to the lower +passenger zone, where I found the ship's third officer. I told him that +I had some secret diplomatic matter to be destroyed and he took me to +the engine room. I shoved the package into one of the mass-energy +convertors and watched it resolve itself into its constituent protons, +neutrons and electrons. + +On the way back, I stopped in at the ship's bar. + +Hoddy Ringo was there, wrapped up in--and I use the words literally--a +young lady from the Alderbaran system. She was on her way home from one +of the quickie divorce courts on Terra and was celebrating her marital +emancipation. They were so entangled with each other that they didn't +notice me. When they left the bar, I slipped after them until I saw them +enter the lady's stateroom. That, of course, would have Hoddy +immobilized--better word, located--for a while. So I went back to our +suite, picked the lock of Hoddy's room, and allowed myself half an hour +to search his luggage. + +All of his clothes were new, but there were not a great many of them. +Evidently he was planning to re-outfit himself on New Texas. There were +a few odds and ends, the kind any man with a real home planet will hold +on to, in the luggage. + +He had another eleven-mm pistol, made by Consolidated-Martian +Metalworks, mate to the one he was carrying in a shoulder-holster, and a +wide two-holster belt like the one furnished me, but quite old. + +I greeted the sight and the meaning of the old holsters with joy: they +weren't the State Department Special Services type. That meant that +Hoddy was just one of Natalenko's run-of-the-gallows cutthroats, not +important enough to be issued the secret equipment. + +But I was a little worried over what I found hidden in the lining of one +of his bags, a letter addressed to Space-Commander Lucius C. Stonehenge, +Aggression Department Attache, New Austin Embassy. I didn't have either +the time or the equipment to open it. But, knowing our various Departments, +I tried to reassure myself with the thought that it was only a +letter-of-credence, with the real message to be delivered orally. + +About the real message I had no doubts: _arrange the murder of +Ambassador Stephen Silk in such a way that it looks like another New +Texan job...._ + + +Starting that evening--or what passed for evening aboard a ship in +hyperspace--Hoddy and I began a positively epochal binge together. + +I had it figured this way: as long as we were on board ship, I was +perfectly safe. On the ship, in fact, Hoddy would definitely have given +his life to save mine. I'd have to be killed on New Texas to give +Klueng's boys their excuse for moving in. + +And there was always the chance, with no chance too slender for me to +ignore, that I might be able to get Hoddy drunk enough to talk, yet +still be sober enough myself to remember what he said. + +Exact times, details, faces, names, came to me through a sort of hazy +blur as Hoddy and I drank something he called superbourbon--a New Texan +drink that Bourbon County, Kentucky, would never have recognized. They +had no corn on New Texas. This stuff was made out of something called +superyams. + +There were at least two things I got out of the binge. First, I learned +to slug down the national drink without batting an eye. Second, I +learned to control my expression as I uncovered the fact that everything +on New Texas was supersomething. + +I was also cautious enough, before we really got started, to leave my +belt and guns with the purser. I didn't want Hoddy poking around those +secret holsters. And I remember telling the captain to radio New Austin +as soon as we came out of our last hyperspace-jump, then to send the +ship's doctor around to give me my hangover treatments. + +But the one thing I wanted to remember, as the hangover shots brought me +back to normal life, I found was the one thing I couldn't remember. What +was the name of that girl--a big, beautiful blond--who joined the party +along with Hoddy's grass widow from Alderbaran and stayed with it to the +end? + +Damn, I wished I could remember her name! + + +When we were fifteen thousand miles off-planet and the lighters from New +Austin spaceport were reported on the way, I got into the skin-tight +Levis, the cataclysmic-colored shirt, and the loose vest, tucked my big +hat under my arm, and went to the purser's office for my guns, buckling +them on. When I got back to the suite, Hoddy had put on his pistols and +was practicing quick draws in front of the mirror. He took one look at +my armament and groaned. + +"You're gonna get yourself killed for sure, with that rig, an' them +popguns," he told me. + +"These popguns'll shoot harder and make bigger holes than that pair of +museum-pieces you're carrying," I replied. + +"An' them holsters!" Hoddy continued. "Why, it'd take all day to get +your guns outa them! You better let me find you a real rig, when we get +to New Austin...." + +There was a chance, of course, that he knew what I was using and wanted +to hide his knowledge. I doubted that. + +"Sure, you State Department guys always know everything," he went on. +"Like them microfilm-books you was readin'. I try to tell you what +things is really like on New Texas, an' you let it go in one ear an' out +the other." + +Then he wandered off to say good-bye to the grass widow from Alderbaran, +leaving me to make the last-minute check on the luggage. I was hoping +I'd be able to see that blond ... what _was_ her name; Gail +something-or-other. Let's see, she'd been at some Terran university, and +she was on her way home to ... to New Texas! Of course! + + +I saw her, half an hour later, in the crowd around the airlock when the +lighters came alongside, and I tried to push my way toward her. As I +did, the airlock opened, the crowd surged toward it, and she was carried +along. Then the airlock closed, after she had passed through and before +I could get to it. That meant I'd have to wait for the second lighter. + +So I made the best of it, and spent the next half-hour watching the disc +of the planet grow into a huge ball that filled the lower half of the +viewscreen and then lose its curvature, and instead of moving in toward +the planet, we were going down toward it. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +New Austin spaceport was a huge place, a good fifty miles outside the +city. As we descended, I could see that it was laid out like a wheel, +with the landings and the blast-off stands around the hub, and high +buildings--packing houses and refrigeration plants--along the many +spokes. It showed a technological level quite out of keeping with the +accounts I had read, or the stories Hoddy had told, about the simple +ranch life of the planet. Might be foreign capital invested there, and I +made a mental note to find out whose. + +On the other hand, Old Texas, on Terra, had been heavily industrialized; +so much so that the state itself could handle the gigantic project of +building enough spaceships to move almost the whole population into +space. + +Then the landing-field was rushing up at us, with the nearer ends of the +roadways and streets drawing close and the far ends lengthening out away +from us. The other lighter was already down, and I could see a crowd +around it. + +There was a crowd waiting for us when we got out and went down the +escalators to the ground, and as I had expected, a special group of men +waiting for me. They were headed by a tall, slender individual in the +short black Eisenhower jacket, gray-striped trousers and black homburg +that was the uniform of the Diplomatic Service, alias the Cookie +Pushers. + +Over their heads at the other rocket-boat, I could see the gold-gleaming +head of the girl I'd met on the ship. + +I tried to push through the crowd and get to her. As I did, the Cookie +Pusher got in my way. + +"Mr. Silk! Mr. Ambassador! Here we are!" he was clamoring. "The car for +the Embassy is right over here!" He clutched my elbow. "You have no idea +how glad we all are to see you, Mr. Ambassador!" + +"Yes, yes; of course. Now, there's somebody over there I +have to see, at once." I tried to pull myself loose from his grasp. + +Across the concrete between the two lighters, I could see the girl push +out of the crowd around her and wave a hand to me. I tried to yell to +her; but just then another lighter, loaded with freight, started to lift +out at another nearby stand, with the roar of half a dozen Niagaras. The +thin man in the striped trousers added to the uproar by shouting into my +ear and pulling at me. + +"We haven't time!" he finally managed to make himself heard. "We're +dreadfully late now, sir! You must come with us." + +Hoddy, too, had caught hold of me by the other arm. + +"Come on, boss. There's gotta be some reason why he's got himself in an +uproar about whatever it is. You'll see her again." + +Then, the whole gang--Hoddy, the thin man with the black homburg, his +younger accomplice in identical garb, and the chauffeur--all closed in +on me and pushed me, pulled me, half-carried me, fifty yards across the +concrete to where their air-car was parked. By this time, the tall +blond had gotten clear of the mob around her and was waving frantically +at me. I tried to wave back, but I was literally crammed into the car +and flung down on the seat. At the same time, the chauffeur was jumping +in, extending the car's wings, jetting up. + +"Great God!" I bellowed. "This is the damnedest piece of impudence I've +ever had to suffer from any subordinates in my whole State Department +experience! I want an explanation out of you, and it'd better be a good +one!" + +There was a deafening silence in the car for a moment. The thin man +moved himself off my lap, then sat there looking at me with the +heartbroken eyes of a friendly dog that had just been kicked for +something which wasn't really its fault. + +"Mr. Ambassador, you can't imagine how sorry we all are, but if we +hadn't gotten you away from the spaceport and to the Embassy at once, we +would all have been much sorrier." + +"Somebody here gunnin' for the Ambassador?" Hoddy demanded sharply. + +"Oh, no! I hadn't even thought of that," the thin man almost gibbered. +"But your presence at the Embassy is of immediate and urgent necessity. +You have no idea of the state into which things have gotten.... Oh, +pardon me, Mr. Ambassador. I am Gilbert W. Thrombley, your charge +d'affaires." I shook hands with him. "And Mr. Benito Gomez, the +Secretary of the Embassy." I shook hands with him, too, and started to +introduce Mr. Hoddy Ringo. + +Hoddy, however, had turned to look out the rear window; immediately, he +gave a yelp. + +"We got a tail, boss! Two of them! Look back there!" + +There were two black eight-passenger aircars, of the same model, +whizzing after us, making an obvious effort to overtake us. The +chauffeur cursed and fired his auxiliary jets, then his rocket-booster. + +Immediately, black rocket-fuel puffs shot away from the pursuing +aircars. + +Hoddy turned in his seat, cranked open a porthole-slit in the window, +and poked one of his eleven-mm's out, letting the whole clip go. +Thrombley and Gomez slid down onto the floor, and both began trying to +drag me down with them, imploring me not to expose myself. + +As far as I could see, there was nothing to expose myself to. The other +cars kept coming, but neither of them were firing at us. There was also +no indication that Hoddy's salvo had had any effect on them. Our +chauffeur went into a perfect frenzy of twisting and dodging, at the +same time using his radiophone to tell somebody to get the goddamn +gate open in a hurry. I saw the blue skies and green plains of New +Texas replacing one another above, under, in front of and behind us. +Then the car set down on a broad stretch of concrete, the wings were +retracted, and we went whizzing down a city street. + +We whizzed down a number of streets. We cut corners on two wheels, and +on one wheel, and, I was prepared to swear, on no wheels. A couple of +times, with the wings retracted, we actually jetted into the air and +jumped over vehicles in front of us, landing again with bone-shaking +jolts. Then we made an abrupt turn and shot in under a concrete arch, +and a big door banged shut behind us, and we stopped, in the middle of a +wide patio, the front of the car a few inches short of a fountain. Four +or five people, in diplomatic striped trousers, local dress and the +uniform of the Space Marines, came running over. + +Thrombley pulled himself erect and half-climbed, half-fell, out of the +car. Gomez got out on the other side with Hoddy; I climbed out after +Thrombley. + +A tall, sandy-haired man in the uniform of the Space Navy came over. + +"What the devil's the matter, Thrombley?" he demanded. Then, seeing me, +he gave me as much of a salute as a naval officer will ever bestow on +anybody in civilian clothes. + +"Mr. Silk?" He looked at my costume and the pistols on my belt in +well-bred concealment of surprise. "I'm your military attache, +Stonehenge; Space-Commander, Space Navy." + +I noticed that Hoddy's ears had pricked up, but he wasn't making any +effort to attract Stonehenge's attention. I shook hands with him, +introduced Hoddy, and offered my cigarette case around. + +"You seem to have had a hectic trip from the spaceport, Mr. Ambassador. +What happened?" + +Thrombley began accusing our driver of trying to murder the lot of us. +Hoddy brushed him aside and explained: + +"Just after we'd took off, two other cars took off after us. We speeded +up, and they speeded up, too. Then your fly-boy, here, got fancy. That +shook 'em off. Time we got into the city, we'd dropped them. Nice job of +driving. Probably saved our lives." + +"Shucks, that wasn't nothin'," the driver disclaimed. "When you drive +for politicians, you're either good or you're good and dead." + +"I'm surprised they started so soon," Stonehenge said. Then he looked +around at my fellow-passengers, who seemed to have realized, by now, +that they were no longer dangling by their fingernails over the brink of +the grave. "But gentlemen, let's not keep the Ambassador standing out +here in the hot sun." + +So we went over the arches at the side of the patio, and were about to +sit down when one of the Embassy servants came up, followed by a man in +a loose vest and blue Levis and a big hat. He had a pair of automatics +in his belt, too. + +"I'm Captain Nelson; New Texas Rangers," he introduced himself. "Which +one of you-all is Mr. Stephen Silk?" + +I admitted it. + +The Ranger pushed back his wide hat and grinned at me. + +"I just can't figure this out," he said. "You're in the right place and +the right company, but we got a report, from a mighty good source, that +you'd been kidnapped at the spaceport by a gang of thugs!" + +"A blond source?" I made curving motions with my hands. "I don't blame +her. My efficient and conscientious charge d'affaires, Mr. Thrombley, +felt that I should reach the Embassy, here, as soon as possible, and +from where she was standing, it must have looked like a kidnapping. +Fact is, it looked like one from where I was standing, too. +Was that you and your people who were chasing us? Then I must apologize +for opening fire on you ... I hope nobody was hurt." + +"No, our cars are pretty well armored. You scored a couple of times on +one of them, but no harm done. I reckon after what happened to Silas +Cumshaw, you had a right to be suspicious." + +I noticed that refreshments, including several bottles, had been placed +on a big wicker table under the arched veranda. + +"Can I offer you a drink, Captain, in token of mutual amity?" I asked. + +"Well, now, I'd like to, Mr. Ambassador, but I'm on duty ..." he began. + +"You can't be. You're an officer of the Planetary Government of New +Texas, and in this Embassy, you're in the territory of the Solar +League." + +"That's right, now, Mr. Ambassador," he grinned. "Extraterritoriality. +Wonderful thing, extraterritoriality." He looked at Hoddy, who, for the +first time since I had met him, was trying to shrink into the +background. "And diplomatic immunity, too. Ain't it, Hoddy?" + +After he had had his drink and departed, we all sat down. Thrombley +began speaking almost at once. + +"Mr. Ambassador, you must, you simply must, issue a public statement, +immediately, sir. Only a public statement, issued promptly, will relieve +the crisis into which we have all been thrust." + +"Oh, come, Mr. Thrombley," I objected. "Captain Nelson'll take care of +all that in his report to his superiors." + +Thrombley looked at me for a moment as though I had been speaking to +him in Hottentot, then waved his hands in polite exasperation. + +"Oh, no, no! I don't mean that, sir. I mean a public statement to the +effect that you have assumed full responsibility for the Embassy. Where +is that thing? Mr. Gomez!" + +Gomez gave him four or five sheets, stapled together. He laid them on +the table, turned to the last sheet, and whipped out a pen. + +"Here, sir; just sign here." + +"Are you crazy?" I demanded. "I'll be damned if I'll sign that. Not till +I've taken an inventory of the physical property of the Embassy, and +familiarized myself with all its commitments, and had the books audited +by some firm of certified public accountants." + +Thrombley and Gomez looked at one another. They both groaned. + +"But we must have a statement of assumption of responsibility ..." Gomez +dithered. + +"... or the business of the Embassy will be at a dead stop, and we can't +do anything," Thrombley finished. + +"Wait a moment, Thrombley," Stonehenge cut in. "I understand Mr. Silk's +attitude. I've taken command of a good many ships and installations, at +one time or another, and I've never signed for anything I couldn't see +and feel and count. I know men who retired as brigadier generals or +vice-admirals, but they retired loaded with debts incurred because as +second lieutenants or ensigns they forgot that simple rule." + +He turned to me. "Without any disrespect to the charge d'affaires, Mr. +Silk, this Embassy has been pretty badly disorganized since Mr. +Cumshaw's death. No one felt authorized, or, to put it more accurately, +no one dared, to declare himself acting head of the Embassy--" + +"Because that would make him the next target?" I interrupted. "Well, +that's what I was sent here for. Mr. Gomez, as Secretary of the Embassy, +will you please, at once, prepare a statement for the press and telecast +release to the effect that I am now the authorized head of this Embassy, +responsible from this hour for all its future policies and all its +present commitments insofar as they obligate the government of the Solar +League. Get that out at once. Tomorrow, I will present my credentials to +the Secretary of State here. Thereafter, Mr. Thrombley, you can rest in +the assurance that I'll be the one they'll be shooting at." + +"But you can't wait that long, Mr. Ambassador," Thrombley almost wailed. +"We must go immediately to the Statehouse. The reception for you is +already going on." + +I looked at my watch, which had been regulated aboard ship for Capella +IV time. It was just 1315. + +"What time do they hold diplomatic receptions on this planet, Mr. +Thrombley?" I asked. + +"Oh, any time at all, sir. This one started about 0900 when the news +that the ship was in orbit off-planet got in. It'll be a barbecue, of +course, and--" + +"Barbecued supercow! Yipeee!" Hoddy yelled. "What I been waitin' for for +five years!" + +It would be the vilest cruelty not to take him along, I thought. And it +would also keep him and Stonehenge apart for a while. + +"But we must hurry, Mr. Ambassador," Thrombley was saying. "If you will +change, now, to formal dress ..." + +And he was looking at me, gasping. I think it was the first time he had +actually seen what I was wearing. + +"In native dress, Mr. Ambassador!" + +Thrombley's eyes and tone were again those of an innocent spaniel caught +in the middle of a marital argument. + +Then his gaze fell to my belt and his eyes became saucers. "Oh, dear! +And armed!" + +My charge d'affaires was shuddering and he could not look directly at +me. + +"Mr. Ambassador, I understand that you were recently appointed from the +Consular Service. I sincerely hope that you will not take it amiss if I +point out, here in private, that--" + +"Mr. Thrombley, I am wearing this costume and these pistols on the +direct order of Secretary of State Ghopal Singh." + +That set him back on his heels. + +"I ... I can't believe it!" he exclaimed. "An ambassador is _never_ +armed." + +"Not when he's dealing with a government which respects the comity of +nations and the usages of diplomatic practice, no," I replied. "But the +fate of Mr. Cumshaw clearly indicates that the government of New Texas +is not such a government. These pistols are in the nature of a +not-too-subtle hint of the manner in which this government, here, is +being regarded by the government of the Solar League." I turned to +Stonehenge. "Commander, what sort of an Embassy guard have we?" I asked. + +"Space Marines, sergeant and five men. I double as guard officer, sir." + +"Very well. Mr. Thrombley insists that it is necessary for me to go to +this fish-fry or whatever it is immediately. I want two men, a driver +and an auto-rifleman, for my car. And from now on, I would suggest, +Commander, that you wear your sidearm at all times outside the Embassy." + +"Yes, sir!" and this time, Stonehenge gave me a real salute. + +"Well, I must phone the Statehouse, then," Thrombley said. "We will have +to call on Secretary of State Palme, and then on President Hutchinson." + +With that, he got up, excused himself, motioned Gomez to follow, and +hurried away. + +I got up, too, and motioned Stonehenge aside. + +"Aboard ship, coming in, I was told that there's a task force of the +Space Navy on maneuvers about five light-years from here," I said. + +"Yes, sir. Task Force Red-Blue-Green, Fifth Space Fleet. Fleet Admiral +Sir Rodney Tregaskis." + +"Can we get hold of a fast space-boat, with hyperdrive engines, in a +hurry?" + +"Eight or ten of them always around New Austin spaceport, available for +charter." + +"All right; charter one and get out to that fleet. Tell Admiral +Tregaskis that the Ambassador at New Austin feels in need of protection; +possibility of z'Srauff invasion. I'll give you written orders. I want +the Fleet within radio call. How far out would that be, with our +facilities?" + +"The Embassy radio isn't reliable beyond about sixty light-minutes, +sir." + +"Then tell Sir Rodney to bring his fleet in that close. The invasion, if +it comes, will probably not come from the direction of the z'Srauff +star-cluster; they'll probably jump past us and move in from the other +side. I hope you don't think I'm having nightmares, Commander. Danger of +a z'Srauff invasion was pointed out to me by persons on the very highest +level, on Luna." + +Stonehenge nodded. "I'm always having the same kind of nightmares, sir. +Especially since this special envoy arrived here, ostensibly to +negotiate a meteor-mining treaty." He hesitated for a moment. "We don't +want the New Texans to know, of course, that you've sent for the fleet?" + +"Naturally not." + +"Well, if I can wait till about midnight before I leave, I can get a +boat owned, manned and operated by Solar League people. The boat's a +dreadful-looking old tub, but she's sound and fast. The gang who own her +are pretty notorious characters--suspected of smuggling, piracy, and +what not--but they'll keep their mouths shut if well paid." + +"Then pay them well," I said. "And it's just as well you're not leaving +at once. When I get back from this clambake, I'll want to have a general +informal council, and I certainly want you in on it." + +On the way to the Statehouse in the aircar, I kept wondering just how +smart I had been. + +I was pretty sure that the z'Srauff was getting ready for a sneak attack +on New Texas, and, as Solar League Ambassador, I of course had the right +to call on the Space Navy for any amount of armed protection. + +Sending Stonehenge off on what couldn't be less than an eighteen-hour +trip would delay anything he and Hoddy might be cooking up, too. + +On the other hand, with the fleet so near, they might decide to have me +rubbed out in a hurry, to justify seizing the planet ahead of the +z'Srauff. + +I was in that pleasant spot called, "Damned if you do and damned if you +don't...." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +The Statehouse appeared to cover about a square mile of ground and it +was an insane jumble of buildings piled beside and on top of one +another, as though it had been in continuous construction ever since the +planet was colonized, eighty-odd years before. + +At what looked like one of the main entrances, the car stopped. I told +our Marine driver and auto-rifleman to park the car and take in the +barbecue, but to leave word with the doorman where they could be found. +Hoddy, Thrombley and I then went in, to be met by a couple of New Texas +Rangers, one of them the officer who had called at the Embassy. They +guided us to the office of the Secretary of State. + +"We're dreadfully late," Thrombley was fretting. "I do hope we haven't +kept the Secretary waiting too long." + +From the looks of him, I was afraid we had. He jumped up from his desk +and hurried across the room as soon as the receptionist opened the door +for us, his hand extended. + +"Good afternoon, Mr. Thrombley," he burbled nervously. "And this is the +new Ambassador, I suppose. And this--" He caught sight of Hoddy Ringo, +bringing up the rear and stopped short, hand flying to open mouth. "Oh, +dear me!" + +So far, I had been building myself a New Texas stereotype from Hoddy +Ringo and the Ranger officer who had chased us to the Embassy. But this +frightened little rabbit of a fellow simply didn't fit it. An alien +would be justified in assigning him to an entirely different species. + +Thrombley introduced me. I introduced Hoddy as my confidential secretary +and advisor. We all shook hands, and Thrombley dug my credentials out of +his briefcase and handed them to me, and I handed them to the Secretary +of State, Mr. William A. Palme. He barely glanced at them, then shook my +hand again fervently and mumbled something about "inexpressible +pleasure" and "entirely acceptable to my government." + +That made me the accredited and accepted Ambassador to New Texas. + +Mr. Palme hoped, or said he hoped, that my stay in New Texas would be +long and pleasant. He seemed rather less than convinced that it would +be. His eyes kept returning in horrified fascination to my belt. Each +time they would focus on the butts of my Krupp-Tattas, he would pull +them resolutely away again. + +"And now, we must take you to President Hutchinson; he is most anxious +to meet you, Mr. Silk. If you will please come with me ..." + +Four or five Rangers who had been loitering the hall outside moved to +follow us as we went toward the elevator. Although we had come into the +building onto a floor only a few feet above street-level, we went down +three floors from the hallway outside the Secretary of State's office, +into a huge room, the concrete floor of which was oil-stained, as +though vehicles were continually being driven in and out. It was about a +hundred feet wide, and two or three hundred in length. Daylight was +visible through open doors at the end. As we approached them, the +Rangers fanning out on either side and in front of us, I could hear a +perfect bedlam of noise outside--shouting, singing, dance-band music, +interspersed with the banging of shots. + +When we reached the doors at the end, we emerged into one end of a big +rectangular plaza, at least five hundred yards in length. Most of the +uproar was centered at the opposite end, where several thousand people, +in costumes colored through the whole spectrum, were milling about. +There seemed to be at least two square-dances going on, to the music of +competing bands. At the distant end of the plaza, over the heads of the +crowd, I could see the piles and tracks of an overhead crane, towering +above what looked like an open-hearth furnace. Between us and the bulk +of the crowd, in a cleared space, two medium tanks, heavily padded with +mats, were ramming and trying to overturn each other, the mob of +spectators crowding as close to them as they dared. The din was +positively deafening, though we were at least two hundred yards from the +center of the crowd. + +"Oh, dear, I always dread these things!" Palme was saying. + +"Yes, absolutely anything could happen," Thrombley twittered. + +"Man, this is a real barbecue!" Hoddy gloated. "Now I really feel at +home!" + +"Over this way, Mr. Silk," Palme said, guiding me toward the short end +of the plaza, on our left. "We will see the President and then ..." + +He gulped. + +"... then we will all go to the barbecue." + +In the center of the short end of the plaza, dwarfed by the monster +bulks of steel and concrete and glass around it, stood a little old +building of warm-tinted adobe. I had never seen it before, but somehow +it was familiar-looking. And then I remembered. Although I had never +seen it before, I had seen it pictured many times; pictured under +attack, with gunsmoke spouting from windows and parapets. + +I plucked Thrombley's sleeve. + +"Isn't that a replica of the Alamo?" + +He was shocked. "Oh, dear, Mr. Ambassador, don't let anybody hear you +ask that. That's no replica. It _is_ the Alamo. _The_ Alamo." + +I stood there a moment, looking at it. I was remembering, and finally +understanding, what my psycho-history lessons about the "Romantic +Freeze" had meant. + +_They had taken this little mission-fort down, brick by adobe brick, +loaded it carefully into a spaceship, brought it here, forty two +light-years away from Terra, and reverently set it up again. Then they +had built a whole world and a whole social philosophy around it_. + +It had been the dissatisfied, of course, the discontented, the dreamers, +who had led the vanguard of man's explosion into space following the +discovery of the hyperspace-drive. They had gone from Terra cherishing +dreams of things that had been dumped into the dust bin of history, +carrying with them pictures of ways of life that had passed away, or +that had never really been. Then, in their new life, on new planets, +they had set to work making those dreams and those pictures live. + +And, many times, they had come close to succeeding. + +These Texans, now: they had left behind the cold fact that it had been +their state's great industrial complex that had made their migration +possible. They ignored the fact that their life here on Capella IV was +possible only by application of modern industrial technology. That rodeo +down the plaza--tank-tilting instead of bronco-busting. Here they were, +living frozen in a romantic dream, a world of roving cowboys and ranch +kingdoms. + +No wonder Hoddy hadn't liked the books I had been reading on the ship. +They shook the fabric of that dream. + +There were people moving about, at this relatively quiet end of the +plaza, mostly in the direction of the barbecue. Ten or twelve Rangers +loitered at the front of the Alamo, and with them I saw the dress blues +of my two Marines. There was a little three-wheeled motorcart among +them, from which they were helping themselves to food and drink. When +they saw us coming, the two Marines shoved their sandwiches into the +hands of a couple of Rangers and tried to come to attention. + +"At ease, at ease," I told them. "Have a good time, boys. Hoddy, you +better get in on some of this grub; I may be inside for quite a while." + +As soon as the Rangers saw Hoddy, they hastily got things out of their +right hands. Hoddy grinned at them. + +"Take it easy, boys," he said. "I'm protected by the game laws. I'm a +diplomat, I am." + +There were a couple of Rangers lounging outside the door of the +President's office and both of them carried autorifles, implying things +I didn't like. + +I had seen the President of the Solar League wandering around the +dome-city of Artemis unattended, looking for all the world like a +professor in his academic halls. Since then, maybe before then, I had +always had a healthy suspicion of governments whose chiefs had to +surround themselves with bodyguards. + +But the President of New Texas, John Hutchinson, was alone in his office +when we were shown in. He got up and came around his desk to greet us, a +slender, stoop-shouldered man in a black-and-gold laced jacket. He had a +narrow compressed mouth and eyes that seemed to be watching every corner +of the room at once. He wore a pair of small pistols in cross-body +holsters under his coat, and he always kept one hand or the other close +to his abdomen. + +He was like, and yet unlike, the Secretary of State. Both had the look +of hunted animals; but where Palme was a rabbit, twitching to take +flight at the first whiff of danger, Hutchinson was a cat who hears +hounds baying--ready to run if he could, or claw if he must. + +"Good day, Mr. Silk," he said, shaking hands with me after the +introductions. "I see you're heeled; you're smart. You wouldn't be here +today if poor Silas Cumshaw'd been as smart as you are. Great man, +though; a wise and farseeing statesman. He and I were real friends." + +"You know who Mr. Silk brought with him as bodyguard?" Palme asked. +"Hoddy Ringo!" + +"Oh, my God! I thought this planet was rid of him!" The President turned +to me. "You got a good trigger-man, though, Mr. Ambassador. Good man to +watch your back for you. But lot of folks here won't thank you for +bringing him back to New Texas." + +He looked at his watch. "We have time for a little drink, before we go +outside, Mr. Silk," he said. "Care to join me?" + +I assented and he got a bottle of superbourbon out of his desk, with +four glasses. Palme got some water tumblers and brought the pitcher of +ice-water from the cooler. + +I noticed that the New Texas Secretary of State filled his three-ounce +liquor glass to the top and gulped it down at once. He might act as +though he were descended from a long line of maiden aunts, but he took +his liquor in blasts that would have floored a spaceport labor-boss. + +We had another drink, a little slower, and chatted for a while, and then +Hutchinson said, regretfully that we'd have to go outside and meet the +folks. Outside, our guards--Hoddy, the two Marines, the Rangers who had +escorted us from Palme's office, and Hutchinson's retinue--surrounded +us, and we made our way down the plaza, through the crowd. The +din--ear-piercing yells, whistles, cowbells, pistol shots, the cacophony +of the two dance-bands, and the chorus-singing, of which I caught only +the words: _The skies of freedom are above you!_--was as bad as New +Year's Eve in Manhattan or Nairobi or New Moscow, on Terra. + +"Don't take all this as a personal tribute, Mr. Silk!" Hutchinson +screamed into my ear. "On this planet, to paraphrase Nietzsche, a good +barbecue halloweth any cause!" + +That surprised me, at the moment. Later I found out that John Hutchinson +was one of the leading scholars on New Texas and had once been president +of one of their universities. New Texas Christian, I believe. + +As we got up onto the platform, close enough to the barbecue pits to +feel the heat from them, somebody let off what sounded like a fifty-mm +anti-tank gun five or six times. Hutchinson grabbed a microphone and +bellowed into it: "Ladies and gentlemen! Your attention, please!" + +The noise began to diminish, slowly, until I could hear one voice, in +the crowd below: + +"Shut up, you damn fools! We can't eat till this is over!" + +Hutchinson introduced me, in very few words. I gathered that lengthy +speeches at barbecues were not popular on New Texas. + +"Ladies and gentlemen!" I yelled into the microphone. "Appreciative as I +am of this honor, there is one here who is more deserving of your notice +than I; one to whom I, also, pay homage. He's over there on the fire, +and I want a slice of him as soon as possible!" + +That got a big ovation. There was, beside the water pitcher, a bottle of +superbourbon. I ostentatiously threw the water out of the glass, poured +a big shot of the corrosive stuff, and downed it. + +"For God's sake, let's eat!" I finished. Then I turned to Thrombley, who +was looking like a priest who has just seen the bishop spit in the +holy-water font. "Stick close to me," I whispered. "Cue me in on the +local notables, and the other members of the Diplomatic Corps." Then we +all got down off the platform, and a band climbed up and began playing +one of those raucous "cowboy ballads" which had originated in Manhattan +about the middle of the Twentieth Century. + +"The sandwiches'll be here in a moment, Mr. Ambassador," Hutchinson +screamed--in effect, whispered--in my ear. "Don't feel any reluctance +about shaking hands with a sandwich in your other hand; that's standard +practice, here. You struck just the right note, up there. That business +with the liquor was positively inspired!" + +The sandwiches--huge masses of meat and hot relish, wrapped in tortillas +of some sort--arrived and I bit into one. + +I'd been eating supercow all my life, frozen or electron-beamed for +transportation, and now I was discovering that I had never really eaten +supercow before. I finished the first sandwich in surprisingly short +order and was starting on my second when the crowd began coming. + +First, the Diplomatic Corps, the usual collection of weirdies, human and +otherwise.... + +There was the Ambassador from Tara, in a suit of what his planet +produced as a substitute for Irish homespuns. His Embassy, if it was +like the others I had seen elsewhere, would be an outsize cottage with +whitewashed walls and a thatched roof, with a bowl of milk outside the +door for the Little People ... + +The Ambassador from Alpheratz II, the South African Nationalist planet, +with a full beard, and old fashioned plug hat and tail-coat. They were a +frustrated lot. They had gone into space to practice _apartheid_ and had +settled on a planet where there was no other intelligent race to be +superior to.... + +The Mormon Ambassador from Deseret--Delta Camelopardalis V.... + +The Ambassador from Spica VII, a short jolly-looking little fellow, with +a head like a seal's, long arms, short legs and a tail like a +kangaroo's.... + +The Ambassador from Beta Cephus VI, who could have passed for human if +he hadn't had blood with a copper base instead of iron. His skin was a +dark green and his hair was a bright blue.... + +I was beginning to correct my first impression that Thrombley was a +complete dithering fool. He stood at my left elbow, whispering the names +and governments and home planets of the Ambassadors as they came up, +handing me little slips of paper on which he had written phonetically +correct renditions of the greetings I would give them in their own +language. I was still twittering a reply to the greeting of +Nanadabadian, from Beta Cephus VI, when he whispered to me: + +"Here it comes, sir. The z'Srauff!" + +The z'Srauff were reasonably close to human stature and appearance, +allowing for the fact that their ancestry had been canine instead of +simian. They had, of course, longer and narrower jaws than we have, and +definitely carnivorous teeth. + +There were stories floating around that they enjoyed barbecued Terran +even better than they did supercow and hot relish. + +This one advanced, extending his three-fingered hand. + +"I am most happy to make connection with Solar League representative," +he said. "I am named Gglafrr Ddespttann Vuvuvu." + +No wonder Thrombley let him introduce himself. I answered in the Basic +English that was all he'd admit to understanding: + +"The name of your great nation has gone before you to me. The stories we +tell to our young of you are at the top of our books. I have hope to +make great pleasure in you and me to be friends." + +Gglafrr Vuvuvu's smile wavered a little at the oblique reference to the +couple of trouncings our Space Navy had administered to z'Srauff ships +in the past. "We will be in the same place again times with no number," +the alien replied. "I have hope for you that time you are in this place +will be long and will put pleasure in your heart." + +Then the pressure of the line behind him pushed him on. Cabinet Members; +Senators and Representatives; prominent citizens, mostly Judge +so-and-so, or Colonel this-or-that. It was all a blur, so much so that +it was an instant before I recognized the gleaming golden hair and the +statuesque figure. + +"Thank you! I have met the Ambassador." The lovely voice was shaking +with restrained anger. + +"Gail!" I exclaimed. + +"Your father coming to the barbecue, Gail?" President Hutchinson was +asking. + +"He ought to be here any minute. He sent me on ahead from the hotel. He +wants to meet the Ambassador. That's why I joined the line." + +"Well, suppose I leave Mr. Silk in your hands for a while," Hutchinson +said. "I ought to circulate around a little." + +"Yes. Just leave him in my hands!" she said vindictively. + +"What's wrong, Gail?" I wanted to know. "I know, I was supposed to meet +you at the spaceport, but--" + +"You made a beautiful fool of me at the spaceport!" + +"Look, I can explain everything. My Embassy staff insisted on hurrying +me off--" + +Somebody gave a high-pitched whoop directly behind me and emptied the +clip of a pistol. I couldn't even hear what else I said. I couldn't hear +what she said, either, but it was something angry. + +"You have to listen to me!" I roared in her ear. "I can explain +everything!" + +"Any diplomat can explain anything!" she shouted back. + +"Look, Gail, you're hanging an innocent man!" I yelled back at her. "I'm +entitled to a fair trial!" + +Somebody on the platform began firing his pistol within inches of the +loud-speakers and it sounded like an H-bomb going off. She grabbed my +wrist and dragged me toward a door under the platform. + +"Down here!" she yelled. "And this better be good, Mr. Silk!" + +We went down a spiral ramp, lighted by widely-scattered overhead lights. + +"Space-attack shelter," she explained. "And look: what goes on in +space-ships is one thing, but it's as much as a girl's reputation is +worth to come down here during a barbecue." + +There seemed to be quite few girls at that barbecue who didn't care what +happened to their reputations. We discovered that after looking into a +couple of passageways that branched off the entrance. + +"Over this way," Gail said, "Confederate Courts Building. There won't be +anything going on over here, now." + +I told her, with as much humorous detail as possible, about how +Thrombley had shanghaied me to the Embassy, and about the chase by the +Rangers. Before I was half through, she was laughing heartily, all +traces of her anger gone. Finally, we came to a stairway, and at the +head of it to a small door. + +"It's been four years that I've been away from here," she said. "I think +there's a reading room of the Law Library up here. Let's go in and enjoy +the quiet for a while." + +But when we opened the door, there was a Ranger standing inside. + +"Come to see a trial, Mr. Silk? Oh, hello, Gail. Just in time; they're +going to prepare for the next trial." + +As he spoke, something clicked at the door. Gail looked at me in +consternation. + +"Now we're locked in," she said. "We can't get out till the +trial's over." + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +I looked around. + +We were on a high balcony, at the end of a long, narrow room. In front +of us, windows rose to the ceiling, and it was evident that the floor of +the room was about twenty feet below ground level. Outside, I could see +the barbecue still going on, but not a murmur of noise penetrated to us. +What seemed to be the judge's bench was against the outside wall, under +the tall windows. To the right of it was a railed stand with a chair in +it, and in front, arranged in U-shape, were three tables at which a +number of men were hastily conferring. There were nine judges in a row +on the bench, all in black gowns. The spectators' seats below were +filled with people, and there were quite a few up here on the balcony. + +"What is this? Supreme Court?" I asked as Gail piloted me to a couple of +seats where we could be alone. + +"No, Court of Political Justice," she told me. "This is the court that's +going to try those three Bonney brothers, who killed Mr. Cumshaw." + +It suddenly occurred to me that this was the first time I had heard +anything specific about the death of my predecessor. + +"That isn't the trial that's going on now, I hope?" + +"Oh, no; that won't be for a couple of days. Not till after you can +arrange to attend. I don't know what this trial is. I only got home +today, myself." + +"What's the procedure here?" I wanted to know. + +"Well, those nine men are judges," she began. "The one in the middle is +President Judge Nelson. You've met his son--the Ranger officer who +chased you from the spaceport. He's a regular jurist. The other eight +are prominent citizens who are drawn from a panel, like a jury. The men +at the table on the left are the prosecution: friends of the politician +who was killed. And the ones on the right are the defense: they'll try +to prove that the dead man got what was coming to him. The ones in the +middle are friends of the court: they're just anybody who has any +interest in the case--people who want to get some point of law cleared +up, or see some precedent established, or something like that." + +"You seem to assume that this is a homicide case," I mentioned. + +"They generally are. Sometimes mayhem, or wounding, or simple assault, +but--" + +There had been some sort of conference going on in the open space of +floor between the judges' bench and the three tables. It broke up, now, +and the judge in the middle rapped with his gavel. + +"Are you gentlemen ready?" he asked. "All right, then. Court of +Political Justice of the Confederate Continents of New Texas is now in +session. Case of the friends of S. Austin Maverick, deceased, late of +James Bowie Continent, versus Wilbur Whately." + +"My God, did somebody finally kill Aus Maverick?" Gail whispered. + +On the center table, in front of the friends of the court, both sides +seemed to have piled their exhibits; among the litter I saw some torn +clothing, a big white sombrero covered with blood, and a long machete. + +"The general nature of the case," the judge was saying, "is that the +defendant, Wilbur Whately, of Sam Houston Continent, is here charged +with divers offenses arising from the death of the Honorable S. Austin +Maverick, whom he killed on the front steps of the Legislative Assembly +Building, here in New Austin...." + +_What goes on here?_ I thought angrily. _This is the rankest instance of +a pre-judged case I've ever seen._ I started to say as much to Gail, but +she hushed me. + +"I want to hear the specifications," she said. + +A man at the prosecution table had risen. + +"Please the court," he began, "the defendant, Wilbur Whately, is here +charged with political irresponsibility and excessive atrocity in +exercising his constitutional right of criticism of a practicing +politician. + +"The specifications are, as follows: That, on the afternoon of May +Seventh, Anno Domini 2193, the defendant here present did arm himself +with a machete, said machete not being one of his normal and accustomed +weapons, and did loiter in wait on the front steps of the Legislative +Assembly Building in the city of New Austin, Continent of Sam Houston, +and did approach the decedent, addressing him in abusive, obscene, and +indecent language, and did set upon and attack him with the machete +aforesaid, causing the said decedent, S. Austin Maverick, to die." + +The court wanted to know how the defendant would plead. Somebody, +without bothering to rise, said, "Not guilty, Your Honor," from the +defense table. + +There was a brief scraping of chairs; four of five men from the defense +and the prosecution tables got up and advanced to confer in front of the +bench, comparing sheets of paper. The man who had read the charges, +obviously the chief prosecutor, made himself the spokesman. + +"Your Honor, defense and prosecution wish to enter the following +stipulations: That the decedent was a practicing politician within the +meaning of the Constitution, that he met his death in the manner stated +in the coroner's report, and that he was killed by the defendant, Wilbur +Whately." + +"Is that agreeable to you, Mr. Vincent?" the judge wanted to know. + +The defense answered affirmatively. I sat back, gaping like a fool. Why, +that was practically--no, it _was_--a confession. + +"All right, gentlemen," the judge said. "Now we have all that out of the +way, let's get on with the case." + +As though there were any case to get on with! I fully expected them to +take it on from there in song, words by Gilbert and music by Sullivan. + +"Well, Your Honor, we have a number of character witnesses," the +prosecution--prosecution, for God's sake!--announced. + +"Skip them," the defense said. "We stipulate." + +"But you can't stipulate character testimony," the prosecution argued. +"You don't know what our witnesses are going to testify to." + +"Sure we do: they're going to give us a big long shaggy-dog story about +the Life and Miracles of Saint Austin Maverick. We'll agree in advance +to all that; this case is concerned only with his record as a +politician. And as he spent the last fifteen years in the Senate, that's +all a matter of public record. I assume that the prosecution is going to +introduce all that, too?" + +"Well, naturally ..." the prosecutor began. + +"Including his public acts on the last day of his life?" the counsel for +the defense demanded. "His actions on the morning of May seventh as +chairman of the Finance and Revenue Committee? You going to introduce +that as evidence for the prosecution?" + +"Well, now ..." the prosecutor began. + +"Your Honor, we ask to have a certified copy of the proceedings of the +Senate Finance and Revenue Committee for the morning of May Seventh, +2193, read into the record of this court," the counsel for the defense +said. "And thereafter, we rest our case." + +"Has the prosecution anything to say before we close the court?" Judge +Nelson inquired. + +"Well, Your Honor, this seems ... that is, we ought to hear both sides +of it. My old friend, Aus Maverick, was really a fine man; he did a lot +of good for the people of his continent...." + +"Yeah, we'd of lynched him, when he got back, if somebody hadn't chopped +him up here in New Austin!" a voice from the rear of the courtroom broke +in. + +The prosecution hemmed and hawed for a moment, and then announced, in a +hasty mumble, that it rested. + +"I will now close the court," Judge Nelson said. "I advise everybody to +keep your seats. I don't think it's going to be closed very long." + +And then, he actually closed the court; pressing a button on the bench, +he raised a high black screen in front of him and his colleagues. It +stayed up for some sixty seconds, and then dropped again. + +"The Court of Political Justice has reached a verdict," he announced. +"Wilbur Whately, and your attorney, approach and hear the verdict." + +The defense lawyer motioned a young man who had been sitting beside him +to rise. In the silence that had fallen, I could hear the defendant's +boots squeaking as he went forward to hear his fate. The judge picked up +a belt and a pair of pistols that had been lying in front of him. + +"Wilbur Whately," he began, "this court is proud to announce that you +have been unanimously acquitted of the charge of political +irresponsibility, and of unjustified and excessive atrocity. + +"There was one dissenting vote on acquitting you of the charge of +political irresponsibility; one of the associate judges felt that the +late unmitigated scoundrel, Austin Maverick, ought to have been skinned +alive, an inch at a time. You are, however, acquitted of that charge, +too. + +"You all know," he continued, addressing the entire assemblage, "the +reason for which this young hero cut down that monster of political +iniquity, S. Austin Maverick. On the very morning of his justly-merited +death, Austin Maverick, using the powers of his political influence, +rammed through the Finance and Revenue Committee a bill entitled 'An Act +for the Taxing of Personal Incomes, and for the Levying of a Withholding +Tax.' Fellow citizens, words fail me to express my horror of this +diabolic proposition, this proposed instrument of tyrannical extortion, +borrowed from the Dark Ages of the Twentieth Century! Why, if this young +nobleman had not taken his blade in hand, I'd have killed the +sonofabitch, myself!" + +He leaned forward, extending the belt and holsters to the defendant. + +"I therefore restore to you your weapons, taken from you when, in +compliance with the law, you were formally arrested. Buckle them on, +and, assuming your weapons again, go forth from this court a free man, +Wilbur Whately. And take with you that machete with which you vindicated +the liberties and rights of all New Texans. Bear it reverently to your +home, hang it among your lares and penates, cherish it, and dying, +mention it within your will, bequeathing it as a rich legacy unto your +issue! Court adjourned; next session 0900 tomorrow. For Chrissake, let's +get out of here before the barbecue's over!" + +Some of the spectators, drooling for barbecued supercow, began crowding +and jostling toward the exits; more of them were pushing to the front of +the courtroom, cheering and waving their hip-flasks. The prosecution +and about half of the friends of the court hastily left by a side door, +probably to issue statements disassociating themselves from the deceased +Maverick. + +"So that's the court that's going to try the men who killed Ambassador +Cumshaw," I commented, as Gail and I went out. "Why, the purpose of that +court seems to be to acquit murderers." + +"Murderers?" She was indignant. "That wasn't murder. He just killed a +politician. All the court could do was determine whether or not the +politician needed it, and while I never heard about Maverick's +income-tax proposition, I can't see how they could have brought in any +other kind of a verdict. Of all the outrageous things!" + + +I was thoughtfully silent as we went out into the plaza, which was still +a riot of noise and polychromatic costumes. And my thoughts were as +weltered as the scene before me. + +Apparently, on New Texas, killing a politician wasn't regarded as +_mallum in se_, and was _mallum prohibitorum_ only to the extent that +what happened to the politician was in excess of what he deserved. I +began to understand why Palme was such a scared rabbit, why Hutchinson +had that hunted look and kept his hands always within inches of his +pistols. + +I began to feel more pity than contempt for Thrombley, too. _He's been +on this planet too long and he should never have been sent here in the +first place. I'll rotate him home as soon as possible...._ + +Then the full meaning of what I had seen finally got through to me: if +they were going to try the killers of Cumshaw in that court, that meant +that on New Texas, foreign diplomats were regarded as practicing +politicians.... + +That made me a practicing politician too! + +And that's why, when we got back to the vicinity of the bandstand, I +had my right hand close to my pistol, with my thumb on the inconspicuous +little spot of silver inlay that operated the secret holster mechanism. + +I saw Hutchinson and Palme and Thrombley ahead. With them was a +newcomer, a portly, ruddy-faced gentleman with a white mustache and +goatee, dressed in a white suit. Gail broke away from me and ran toward +him. This, I thought, would be her father; now I would be introduced and +find out just what her last name was. I followed, more slowly, and saw a +waiter, with a wheeled serving-table, move in behind the group which she +had joined. + +So I saw what none of them did--the waiter suddenly reversed his long +carving-knife and poised himself for a blow at President Hutchinson's +back. I simply pressed the little silver stud on my belt, the +Krupp-Tatta popped obediently out of the holster into my open hand. I +thumbed off the safety and swung up; when my sights closed on the rising +hand that held the knife, I fired. + +Hoddy Ringo, who had been holding a sandwich with one hand and a drink +with the other, dropped both and jumped on the man whose hand I had +smashed. A couple of Rangers closed in and grabbed him, also. The group +around President Hutchinson had all turned and were staring from me to +the man I had shot, and from him to the knife with the broken handle, +lying on the ground. + +Hutchinson spoke first. "Well, Mr. Ambassador! My Government thanks your +Government! That was nice shooting!" + +"Hey, you been holdin' out on me!" Hoddy accused. "I never knew you was +that kinda gunfighter!" + +"There's a new wrinkle," the man with the white goatee said. "We'll have +to screen the help at these affairs a little more closely." He turned to +me. "Mr. Ambassador, New Texas owes you a great deal for saving the +President's life. If you'll get that pistol out of your hand, I'd be +proud to shake it, sir." + +I holstered my automatic, and took his hand. Gail was saying, "Stephen, +this is my father," and at the same time, Palme, the Secretary of State, +was doing it more formally: + +"Ambassador Silk, may I present one of our leading citizens and large +ranchers, Colonel Andrew Jackson Hickock." + +Dumbarton Oaks had taught me how to maintain the proper diplomat's +unchanging expression; drinking superbourbon had been a post-graduate +course. I needed that training as I finally learned Gail's last name. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +It was early evening before we finally managed to get away from the +barbecue. Thrombley had called the Embassy and told them not to wait +dinner for us, so the staff had finished eating and were relaxing in the +patio when our car came in through the street gate. Stonehenge and +another man came over to meet us as we got out--a man I hadn't met +before. + +He was a little fellow, half-Latin, half-Oriental; in New Texas costume +and wearing a pair of pistols like mine, in State Department Special +Services holsters. He didn't look like a Dumbarton Oaks product: I +thought he was more likely an alumnus of some private detective agency. + +"Mr. Francisco Parros, our Intelligence man," Stonehenge introduced him. + +"Sorry I wasn't here when you arrived, Mr. Silk," Parros said. "Out +checking on some things. But I saw that bit of shooting, on the telecast +screen in a bar over town. You know, there was a camera right over the +bandstand that caught the whole thing--you and Miss Hickock coming +toward the President and his party, Miss Hickock running forward to her +father, the waiter going up behind Hutchinson with the knife, and then +that beautiful draw and snap shot. They ran it again a couple of times +on the half-hourly newscast. Everybody in New Austin, maybe on New +Texas, is talking about it, now." + +"Yes, indeed, sir," Gomez, the Embassy Secretary, said, joining us. +"You've made yourself more popular in the eight hours since you landed +than poor Mr. Cumshaw had been able to do in the ten years he spent +here. But, I'm afraid, sir, you've given me a good deal of work, +answering your fan-mail." + +We went over and sat down at one of the big tables under the arches at +the side of the patio. + +"Well, that's all to the good," I said. "I'm going to need a lot of +local good will, in the next few weeks. No thanks, Mr. Parros," I added, +as the Intelligence man picked up a bottle and made to pour for me. +"I've been practically swimming in superbourbon all afternoon. A little +black coffee, if you don't mind. And now, gentlemen, if you'll all be +seated, we'll see what has to be done." + +"A council of war, in effect, Mr. Ambassador?" Stonehenge inquired. + +"Let's call it a council to estimate the situation. But I'll have to +find out from you first exactly what the situation here is." + +Thrombley stirred uneasily. "But sir, I confess that I don't understand. +Your briefing on Luna...." + +"Was practically nonexistent. I had a total of six hours to get aboard +ship, from the moment I was notified that I had been appointed to this +Embassy." + +"Incredible!" Thrombley murmured. + +I wondered what he'd say if I told him that I thought it was +deliberate. + +"Naturally, I spent some time on the ship reading up on this planet, but +I know practically nothing about what's been going on here in, say, the +last year. And all I know about the death of Mr. Cumshaw is that he is +said to have been killed by three brothers named Bonney." + +"So you'll want just about everything, Mr. Silk," Thrombley said. +"Really, I don't know where to begin." + +"Start with why and how Mr. Cumshaw was killed. The rest, I believe, +will key into that." + +So they began; Thrombley, Stonehenge and Parros doing the talking. It +came to this: + +Ever since we had first established an Embassy on New Texas, the goal of +our diplomacy on this planet had been to secure it into the Solar +League. And it was a goal which seemed very little closer to realization +now than it had been twenty-three years before. + +"You must know, by now, what politics on this planet are like, Mr. +Silk," Thrombley said. + +"I have an idea. One Ambassador gone native, another gone crazy, the +third killed himself, the fourth murdered." + +"Yes, indeed. I've been here fifteen years, myself...." + +"That's entirely too long for anybody to be stationed in this place," I +told him. "If I'm not murdered, myself, in the next couple of weeks, I'm +going to see that you and any other member of this staff who's been here +over ten years are rotated home for a tour of duty at Department +Headquarters." + +"Oh, would you, Mr. Silk? I would be so happy...." + +Thrombley wasn't much in the way of an ally, but at least he had a +sound, selfish motive for helping me stay alive. I assured him I would +get him sent back to Luna, and then went on with the discussion. + +Up until six months ago, Silas Cumshaw had modeled himself after the +typical New Texas politician. He had always worn at least two faces, and +had always managed to place himself on every side of every issue at +once. Nothing he ever said could possibly be construed as controversial. +Naturally, the cause of New Texan annexation to the Solar League had +made no progress whatever. + +Then, one evening, at a banquet, he had executed a complete 180-degree +turn, delivering a speech in which he proclaimed that union with the +Solar League was the only possible way in which New Texans could retain +even a vestige of local sovereignty. He had talked about an invasion as +though the enemy's ships were already coming out of hyperspace, and had +named the invader, calling the z'Srauff "our common enemy." The z'Srauff +Ambassador, also present, had immediately gotten up and stalked out, +amid a derisive chorus of barking and baying from the New Texans. The +New Texans were first shocked and then wildly delighted; they had been +so used to hearing nothing but inanities and high-order abstractions +from their public figures that the Solar League Ambassador had become a +hero overnight. + +"Sounds as though there is a really strong sentiment at what used to be +called the grass-roots level in favor of annexation," I commented. + +"There is," Parros told me. "Of course, there is a very strong +isolationist, anti-annexation, sentiment, too. The sentiment in favor +of annexation is based on the point Mr. Cumshaw made--the danger of +conquest by the z'Srauff. Against that, of course, there is fear of +higher taxes, fear of loss of local sovereignty, fear of abrogation of +local customs and institutions, and chauvinistic pride." + +"We can deal with some of that by furnishing guarantees of local +self-government; the emotional objections can be met by convincing them +that we need the great planet of New Texas to add glory and luster to +the Solar League," I said. "You think, then, that Mr. Cumshaw was +assassinated by opponents of annexation?" + +"Of course, sir," Thrombley replied. "These Bonneys were only hirelings. +Here's what happened, on the day of the murder: + +"It was the day after a holiday, a big one here on New Texas, +celebrating some military victory by the Texans on Terra, a battle +called San Jacinto. We didn't have any business to handle, because all +the local officials were home nursing hangovers, so when Colonel Hickock +called--" + +"Who?" I asked sharply. + +"Colonel Hickock. The father of the young lady you were so attentive to +at the barbecue. He and Mr. Cumshaw had become great friends, beginning +shortly before the speech the Ambassador made at that banquet. He called +about 0900, inviting Mr. Cumshaw out to his ranch for the day, and as +there was nothing in the way of official business, Mr. Cumshaw said he'd +be out by 1030. + +"When he got there, there was an aircar circling about, near the +ranchhouse. As Mr. Cumshaw got out of his car and started up the front +steps, somebody in this car landed it on the driveway and began +shooting with a twenty-mm auto-rifle. Mr. Cumshaw was hit several times, +and killed instantly." + +"The fellows who did the shooting were damned lucky," Stonehenge took +over. "Hickock's a big rancher. I don't know how much you know about +supercow-ranching, sir, but those things have to be herded with tanks +and light aircraft, so that every rancher has at his disposal a fairly +good small air-armor combat team. Naturally, all the big ranchers are +colonels in the Armed Reserve. Hickock has about fifteen fast fighters, +and thirty medium tanks armed with fifty-mm guns. He also has some +AA-guns around his ranch house--every once in a while, these ranchers +get to squabbling among themselves. + +"Well, these three Bonney brothers were just turning away when a burst +from the ranch house caught their jet assembly, and they could only get +as far as Bonneyville, thirty miles away, before they had to land. They +landed right in front of the town jail. + +"This Bonneyville's an awful shantytown; everybody in it is related to +everybody else. The mayor, for instance, Kettle-Belly Sam Bonney, is an +uncle of theirs. + +"These three boys--Switchblade Joe Bonney, Jack-High Abe Bonney and +Turkey-Buzzard Tom Bonney--immediately claimed sanctuary in the jail, on +the grounds that they had been near to--get that; I think that indicates +the line they're going to take at the trial--_near_ to a political +assassination. They were immediately given the protection of the jail, +which is about the only well-constructed building in the place, +practically a fort." + +"You think that was planned in advance?" I asked. + +Parros nodded emphatically. "I do. There was a hell of a big gang of +these Bonneys at the jail, almost the entire able-bodied population of +the place. As soon as Switchblade and Jack-High and Turkey-Buzzard +landed, they were rushed inside and all the doors barred. About three +minutes later, the Hickock outfit started coming in, first aircraft and +then armor. They gave that town a regular Georgie Patton style +blitzing." + +"Yes. I'm only sorry I wasn't there to see it," Stonehenge put in. "They +knocked down or burned most of the shanties, and then they went to work +on the jail. The aircraft began dumping these firebombs and stun-bombs +that they use to stop supercow stampedes, and the tank-guns began to +punch holes in the walls. As soon as Kettle-Belly saw what he had on his +hands, he radioed a call for Ranger protection. Our friend Captain +Nelson went out to see what the trouble was." + +"Yes. I got the story of that from Nelson," Parros put in. "Much as he +hated to do it, he had to protect the Bonneys. And as soon as he'd taken +a hand, Hickock had to call off his gang. But he was smart. He grabbed +everything relating to the killing--the aircar and the twenty-mm +auto-rifle in particular--and he's keeping them under cover. Very few +people know about that, or about the fact that on physical evidence +alone, he has the killing pinned on the Bonneys so well that they'll +never get away with this story of being merely innocent witnesses." + +"The rest, Mr. Silk, is up to us," Thrombley said. "I have Colonel +Hickock's assurance that he will give us every assistance, but we simply +must see to it that those creatures with the outlandish names are +convicted." + +I didn't have a chance to say anything to that: at that moment, one of +the servants ushered Captain Nelson toward us. + +"Good evening, Captain," I greeted the Ranger. "Join us, seeing that +you're on foreign soil and consequently not on duty." + +He sat down with us and poured a drink. + +"I thought you might be interested," he said. "We gave that waiter a +going-over. We wanted to know who put him up to it. He tried to sell us +the line that he was a New Texan patriot, trying to kill a tyrant, but +we finally got the truth out of him. He was paid a thousand pesos to do +the job, by a character they call Snake-Eyes Sam Bonney. A cousin of the +three who killed Mr. Cumshaw." + +"Nephew of Kettle-Belly Sam," Parros interjected. "You pick him up?" + +Nelson shook his head disgustedly. "He's out in the high grass +somewhere. We're still looking for him. Oh, yes, and I just heard that +the trial of Switchblade, and Jack-High and Turkey-Buzzard is scheduled +for three days from now. You'll be notified in due form tomorrow, but I +thought you might like to know in advance." + +"I certainly do, and thank you, Captain.... We were just talking about +you when you arrived," I mentioned. "About the arrest, or rescue, or +whatever you call it, of that trio." + +"Yeah. One of the jobs I'm not particularly proud of. Pity Hickock's +boys didn't get hold of them before I got there. It'd of saved everybody +a lot of trouble." + +"Just what impression did you get at the time, Captain?" I asked. "You +think Kettle-Belly knew in advance what they were going to do?" + +"Sure he did. They had the whole jail fortified. Not like a jail usually +is, to keep people from getting out; but like a fort, to keep people +from getting in. There were no prisoners inside. I found out that they +had all been released that morning." + +He stopped, seemed to be weighing his words, then continued, speaking +very slowly. + +"Let me tell you first some things I can't testify to, couple of things +that I figure went wrong with their plans. + +"One of Colonel Hickock's men was on the porch to greet Mr. Cumshaw and +he recognized the Bonneys. That was lucky; otherwise we might still be +lookin' and wonderin' who did the shootin', which might not have been +good for New Texas." + +He cocked an eyebrow and I nodded. The Solar League, in similar cases, +had regarded such planetary governments as due for change without notice +and had promptly made the change. + +"Number two," Captain Nelson continued, "that AA-shot which hit their +aircar. I don't think they intended to land at the jail--it was just +sort of a reserve hiding-hole. But because they'd been hit, they had to +land. And they'd been slowed down so much that they couldn't dispose of +the evidence before the Colonel's boys were tappin' on the door 'n' +askin', couldn't they come in." + +"I gather the Colonel's task-force was becoming insistent," I prompted +him. + +The big Ranger grinned. "Now we're on things I can testify to. + +"When I got there, what had been the cell-block was on fire, and they +were trying to defend the mayor's office and the warden's office. These +Bonneys gave me the line that they'd been witnesses to the killing of +Mr. Cumshaw by Colonel Hickock and that the Hickock outfit was trying to +rub them out to keep them from testifying. I just laughed and started to +walk out. Finally, they confessed that they'd shot Mr. Cumshaw, but they +claimed it was right of action against political malfeasance. When they +did that, I had to take them in." + +"They confessed to you, before you arrested them?" I wanted to be sure +of that point. + +"That's right. I'm going to testify to that, Monday, when the trial is +held. And that ain't all: we got their fingerprints off the car, off the +gun, off some shells still in the clip, and we have the gun identified +to the shells that killed Mr. Cumshaw. We got their confession fully +corroborated." + +I asked him if he'd give Mr. Parros a complete statement of what he'd +seen and heard at Bonneyville. He was more than willing and I suggested +that they go into Parros' office, where they'd be undisturbed. The +Ranger and my Intelligence man got up and took a bottle of superbourbon +with them. As they were leaving, Nelson turned to Hoddy, who was still +with us. + +"You'll have to look to your laurels, Hoddy," Nelson said. "Your +Ambassador seems to be making quite a reputation for himself as a +gunfighter." + +"Look," Hoddy said, and though he was facing Nelson, I felt he was +really talking to Stonehenge, "before I'd go up against this guy, I'd +shoot myself. That way, I could be sure I'd get a nice painless job." + +After they were gone, I turned to Stonehenge and Thrombley. "This seems +to be a carefully prearranged killing." + +They agreed. + +"Then they knew _in advance_ that Mr. Cumshaw would be on Colonel +Hickock's front steps at about 1030. _How did they find that out?_" + +"Why ... why, I'm sure I don't know," Thrombley said. It was most +obvious that the idea had never occurred to him before and a side glance +told me that the thought was new to Stonehenge also. "Colonel Hickock +called at 0900. Mr. Cumshaw left the Embassy in an aircar a few minutes +later. It took an hour and a half to fly out to the Hickock ranch...." + +"I don't like the implications, Mr. Silk," Stonehenge said. "I can't +believe that was how it happened. In the first place, Colonel Hickock +isn't that sort of man: he doesn't use his hospitality to trap people to +their death. In the second place, he wouldn't have needed to use people +like these Bonneys. His own men would do anything for him. In the third +place, he is one of the leaders of the annexation movement here and this +was obviously an anti-annexation job. And in the fourth place--" + +"Hold it!" I checked him. "Are you sure he's really on the annexation +side?" + +He opened his mouth to answer me quickly, then closed it, waited a +moment, answered me slowly. "I can guess what you are thinking, Mr. +Silk. But, remember, when Colonel Hickock came here as our first +Ambassador, he came here as a man with a mission. He had studied the +problem and he believed in what he came for. He has never changed. + +"Let me emphasize this, sir: we know he has never changed. For our own +protection, we've had to check on every real leader of the annexation +movement, screening them for crackpots who might do us more harm than +good. The Colonel is with us all the way. + +"And now, in the fourth place, underlined by what I've just said, the +Colonel and Mr. Cumshaw were really friends." + +"Now you're talking!" Hoddy burst in. "I've knowed A. J. ever since I +was a kid. Ever since he married old Colonel MacTodd's daughter. That +just ain't the way A. J. works!" + +"On the other hand, Mr. Ambassador," Thrombley said, keeping his gaze +fixed on Hoddy's hands and apparently ready to both duck and shut up if +Hoddy moved a finger, "you will recall, I think, that Colonel Hickock +did do everything in his power to see that these Bonney brothers did not +reach court alive. And, let me add," he was getting bolder, tilting his +chin up a little, "it's a choice as simple as this: either Colonel +Hickock told them, or we have--and this is unbelievable--a traitor in +the Embassy itself." + +That statement rocked even Hoddy. Even though he was probably no more +than one of Natalenko's little men, he still couldn't help knowing how +thoroughly we were screened, indoctrinated, and--let's face +it--mind-conditioned. A traitor among us was unthinkable because we just +couldn't think that way. + +The silence, the sorrow, were palpable. Then I remembered, told them, +Hickock himself had been a Department man. + +Stonehenge gripped his head between his hands and squeezed as if trying +to bring out an idea. "All right, Mr. Ambassador, where are we now? +Nobody who knew could have told the Bonney boys where Mr. Cumshaw would +be at 1030, yet the three men were there waiting for him. You take it +from there. I'm just a simple military man and I'm ready to go back to +the simple military life as soon as possible." + +I turned to Gomez. "There could be an obvious explanation. Bring us the +official telescreen log. Let's see what calls were made. Maybe Mr. +Cumshaw himself said something to someone that gave his destination +away." + +"That won't be necessary," Thrombley told me. "None of the junior clerks +were on duty, and I took the only three calls that came in, myself. +First, there was the call from Colonel Hickock. Then, the call about the +wrist watch. And then, a couple of hours later, the call from the +Hickock ranch, about Mr. Cumshaw's death." + +"What was the call about the wrist watch?" I asked. + +"Oh, that was from the z'Srauff Embassy," Thrombley said. "For some +time, Mr. Cumshaw had been trying to get one of the very precise +watches which the z'Srauff manufacture on their home planet. The +z'Srauff Ambassador called, that day, to tell him that they had one for +him and wanted to know when it was to be delivered. I told them the +Ambassador was out, and they wanted to know where they could call him +and I--" + +I had never seen a man look more horror-stricken. + +"Oh, my God! I'm the one who told them!" + +What could I say? Not much, but I tried. "How could you know, Mr. +Thrombley? You did the natural, the normal, the proper thing, on a call +from one Ambassador to another." + +I turned to the others, who, like me, preferred not to look at +Thrombley. "They must have had a spy outside who told them the +Ambassador had left the Embassy. Alone, right? And that was just what +they'd been waiting for. + +"But what's this about the watch, though. There's more to this than a +simple favor from one Ambassador to another." + +"My turn, Mr. Ambassador," Stonehenge interrupted. "Mr. Cumshaw had been +trying to get one of the things at my insistence. Naval Intelligence is +very much interested in them and we want a sample. The z'Srauff watches +are very peculiar--they're operated by radium decay, which, of course is +a universal constant. They're uniform to a tenth second and they're all +synchronized with the official time at the capital city of the principal +z'Srauff planet. The time used by the z'Srauff Navy." + +Stonehenge deliberately paused, let that last phrase hang heavily in the +air for a moment, then he continued. + +"They're supposed to be used in religious observances--timing hours of +prayer, I believe. They can, of course, have other uses. + +"For example, I can imagine all those watches giving the wearer a light +electric shock, or ringing a little bell, all over New Texas, at exactly +the same moment. And then I can imagine all the z'Srauff running down +into nice deep holes in the ground." + +He looked at his own watch. "And that reminds me: my gang of pirates are +at the spaceport by now, ready to blast off. I wonder if someone could +drive me there." + +"I'll drive him, boss," Hoddy volunteered. "I ain't doin' nothin' else." + +I was wondering how I could break that up, plausibly and without +betraying my suspicions, when Parros and Captain Nelson came out and +joined us. + +"I have a lot of stuff here," Parros said. "Stuff we never seemed to +have noticed. For instance--" + +I interrupted. "Commander Stonehenge's going to the spaceport, now," I +said. "Suppose you ride with him, and brief him on what you learned, on +the way. Then, when he's aboard, come back and tell us." + +Hoddy looked at me for a long ten seconds. His expression started by +being exasperated and ended by betraying grudging admiration. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +The next morning, which was Saturday, I put Thrombley in charge of the +routine work of the Embassy, but first instructed him to answer all +inquiries about me with the statement, literally true, that I was too +immersed in work of clearing up matters left unfinished after the death +of the former Ambassador for any social activities. Then I called the +Hickock ranch in the west end of Sam Houston Continent, mentioning an +invitation the Colonel and his daughter had extended me, and told them I +would be out to see them before noon that same day. With Hoddy Ringo +driving the car, I arrived about 1000, and was welcomed by Gail and her +father, who had flown out the evening before, after the barbecue. + +Hoddy, accompanied by a Ranger and one of Hickock's ranch hands, all +three disguised in shabby and grease-stained cast-offs borrowed at the +ranch, and driving a dilapidated aircar from the ranch junkyard, were +sent to visit the slum village of Bonneyville. They spent all day there, +posing as a trio of range tramps out of favor with the law. + +I spent the day with Gail, flying over the range, visiting Hickock's +herd camps and slaughtering crews. It was a pleasant day and I managed +to make it constructive as well. + +Because of their huge size--they ran to a live weight of around fifteen +tons--and their uncertain disposition, supercows are not really +domesticated. Each rancher owned the herds on his own land, chiefly by +virtue of constant watchfulness over them. There were always a couple of +helicopters hovering over each herd, with fast fighter planes waiting on +call to come in and drop fire-bombs or stun-bombs in front of them if +they showed a disposition to wander too far. Naturally, things of this +size could not be shipped live to the market; they were butchered on the +range, and the meat hauled out in big 'copter-trucks. + +Slaughtering was dangerous and exciting work. It was done with medium +tanks mounting fifty-mm guns, usually working at the rear of the herd, +although a supercow herd could change directions almost in a second and +the killing-tanks would then find themselves in front of a stampede. I +saw several such incidents. Once Gail and I had to dive in with our car +and help turn such a stampede. + +We got back to the ranch house shortly before dinner. Gail went at once +to change clothes; Colonel Hickock and I sat down together for a drink +in his library, a beautiful room. I especially admired the walls, +panelled in plastic-hardened supercow-leather. + +"What do you think of our planet now, Mr. Silk?" Colonel Hickock asked. + +"Well, Colonel, your final message to the State was part of the briefing +I received," I replied. "I must say that I agree with your opinions. +Especially with your opinion of local political practices. Politics is +nothing, here, if not exciting and exacting." + +"You don't understand it though." That was about half-question and +half-statement. "Particularly our custom of using politicians as clay +pigeons." + +"Well, it is rather unusual...." + +"Yes." The dryness in his tone was a paragraph of comment on my +understatement. "And it's fundamental to our system of government. + +"You were out all afternoon with Gail; you saw how we have to handle the +supercow herds. Well, it is upon the fact that every rancher must have +at his disposal a powerful force of aircraft and armor, easily +convertible to military uses, that our political freedom rests. You see, +our government is, in effect, an oligarchy of the big landowners and +ranchers, who, in combination, have enough military power to overturn +any Planetary government overnight. And, on the local level, it is a +paternalistic feudalism. + +"That's something that would have stood the hair of any Twentieth +Century 'Liberal' on end. And it gives us the freest government anywhere +in the galaxy. + +"There were a number of occasions, much less frequent now than formerly, +when coalitions of big ranches combined their strength and marched on +the Planetary government to protect their rights from government +encroachment. This sort of thing could only be resorted to in defense of +some inherent right, and never to infringe on the rights of others. +Because, in the latter case, other armed coalitions would have arisen, +as they did once or twice during the first three decades of New Texan +history, to resist. + +"So the right of armed intervention by the people when the government +invaded or threatened their rights became an acknowledged part of our +political system. + +"And--this arises as a natural consequence--you can't give a man with +five hundred employees and a force of tanks and aircraft the right to +resist the government, then at the same time deny that right to a man +who has only his own pistol or machete." + +"I notice the President and the other officials have themselves +surrounded by guards to protect them from individual attack," I said. +"Why doesn't the government, as such, protect itself with an army and +air force large enough to resist any possible coalition of the big +ranchers?" + +"_Because we won't let the government get that strong!_" the Colonel +said forcefully. "That's one of the basic premises. We have no standing +army, only the New Texas Rangers. And the legislature won't authorize +any standing army, or appropriate funds to support one. Any member of +the legislature who tried it would get what Austin Maverick got, a +couple of weeks ago, or what Sam Saltkin got, eight years ago, when he +proposed a law for the compulsory registration and licensing of +firearms. The opposition to that tax scheme of Maverick's wasn't because +of what it would cost the public in taxes, but from fear of what the +government could do with the money after they got it. + +"Keep a government poor and weak and it's your servant; let it get rich +and powerful and it's your master. We don't want any masters here on +New Texas." + +"But the President has a bodyguard," I noted. + +"Casualty rate was too high," Hickock explained. "Remember, the +President's job is inherently impossible: he has to represent _all_ the +people." + +I thought that over, could see the illogical logic, but ... "How about +your rancher oligarchy?" + +He laughed. "Son, if I started acting like a master around this ranch in +the morning, they'd find my body in an irrigation ditch before sunset. + +"Sure, if you have a real army, you can keep the men under your +thumb--use one regiment or one division to put down mutiny in another. +But when you have only five hundred men, all of whom know everybody else +and all of them armed, you just act real considerate of them if you want +to keep on living." + +"Then would you say that the opposition to annexation comes from the +people who are afraid that if New Texas enters the Solar League, there +will be League troops sent here and this ... this interesting system of +insuring government responsibility to the public would be brought to an +end?" + +"Yes. If you can show the people of this planet that the League won't +interfere with local political practices, you'll have a 99.95 percent +majority in favor of annexation. We're too close to the z'Srauff +star-cluster, out here, not to see the benefits of joining the Solar +League." + +We left the Hickock ranch on Sunday afternoon and while Hoddy guided our +air-car back to New Austin, I had a little time to revise some of my +ideas about New Texas. That is, I had time to think during those few +moments when Hoddy wasn't taking advantage of our diplomatic immunity to +invent new air-ground traffic laws. + +My thoughts alternated between the pleasure of remembering Gail's gay +company and the gloom of understanding the complete implications of the +Colonel's clarifying lectures. Against the background of his remarks, I +could find myself appreciating the Ghopal-Klueng-Natalenko reasoning: the +only way to cut the Gordian knot was to have another Solar League +Ambassador killed. + +And, whenever I could escape thinking about the fact that the next +Ambassador to be the clay pigeon was me, I found myself wondering if I +wanted the League to take over. Annexation, yes; New Texas customs would +be protected under a treaty of annexation. But the "justified conquest" +urged by Machiavelli, Jr.? No. + +I was still struggling with the problem when we reached the Embassy +about 1700. Everyone was there, including Stonehenge, who had returned +two hours earlier with the good news that the fleet had moved into +position only sixty light-minutes off Capella IV. I had reached the +point in my thinking where I had decided it was useless to keep Hoddy +and Stonehenge apart except as an exercise in mental agility. Inasmuch +as my brain was already weight-lifting, swinging from a flying trapeze +to elusive flying rings while doing triple somersaults and at the same +time juggling seven Indian clubs, I skipped the whole matter. + +But I'm fairly certain that it wasn't till then that Hoddy had a chance +to deliver his letter-of-credence to Stonehenge. + +After dinner, we gathered in my office for our coffee and a final +conference before the opening of the trial the next morning. + +Stonehenge spoke first, looking around the table at everyone except me. + +"No matter what happens, we have the fleet within call. Sir Rodney's +been active picking up those z'Srauff meteor-mining boats. They no +longer have a tight screen around the system. We do. I don't think that +anyone, except us, knows that the fleet's where it is." + +_No matter what happens_, I thought glumly, and the phrase explained why +he hadn't been able to look at me. + +"Well, boss, I gave you my end of it, comin' in," Hoddy said. "Want me +to go over it again? All right. In Bonneyville, we found half a dozen +people who can swear that Kettle-Belly Sam Bonney was making +preparations to protect those three brothers an hour before Ambassador +Cumshaw was shot. The whole town's sorer than hell at Kettle-Belly for +antagonizing the Hickock outfit and getting the place shot up the way it +was. And we have witnesses that Kettle-Belly was in some kind of deal +with the z'Srauff, too. The Rangers gathered up eight of them, who can +swear to the preparations and to the fact that Kettle-Belly had z'Srauff +visitors on different occasions before the shooting." + +"That's what we want," Stonehenge said. "Something that'll connect this +murder with the z'Srauff." + +"Well, wait till you hear what I've got," Parros told him. "In the first +place, we traced the gun and the air-car. The Bonney brothers bought +them both from z'Srauff merchants, for ridiculously nominal prices. The +merchant who sold the aircar is normally in the dry-goods business, and +the one who sold the auto-rifle runs a toy shop. In their whole lives, +those three boys never had enough money among them to pay the list price +of the gun, let alone the car. That is, not until a week before the +murder." + +"They got prosperous, all of a sudden?" I asked. + +"Yes. Two weeks before the shooting, Kettle-Belly Sam's bank account got +a sudden transfusion: some anonymous benefactor deposited 250,000 +pesos--about a hundred thousand dollars--to his credit. He drew out +75,000 of it and some of the money turned up again in the hands of +Switchblade and Jack-High and Turkey-Buzzard. Then, a week before you +landed here, he got another hundred thousand from the same anonymous +source and he drew out twenty thousand of that. We think that was the +money that went to pay for the attempted knife-job on Hutchinson. Two +days before the barbecue, the waiter deposited a thousand at the New +Austin Packers' and Shippers' Trust." + +"Can you get that introduced as evidence at the trial?" I asked. + +"Sure. Kettle-Belly banks at a town called Crooked Creek, about forty +miles from Bonneyville. We have witnesses from the bank. + +"I also got the dope on the line the Bonney brothers are going to take +at the trial. They have a lawyer, Clement A. Sidney, a member of what +passes for the Socialist Party on this planet. The defense will take the +line of full denial of everything. The Bonneys are just three poor but +honest boys who are being framed by the corrupt tools of the Big +Ranching Interests." + +Hoddy made an impolite noise. "Whatta we got to worry about, then?" he +demanded. "They're a cinch for conviction." + +"I agree with that," Stonehenge said. "If they tried to base their +defense on political conviction and opposition by the Solar League, they +might have a chance. This way, they haven't." + +"All right, gentlemen," I said, "I take it that we're agreed that we +must all follow a single line of policy and not work at cross-purposes +to each other?" + +They all agreed to that instantly, but with a questioning note in their +voices. + +"Well, then, I trust you all realize that we cannot, under any +circumstances, allow those three brothers to be convicted in this +court," I added. + +There was a moment of startled silence, while Hoddy and Stonehenge and +Parros and Thrombley were understanding what they had just heard. Then +Stonehenge cleared his throat and said: + +"Mr. Ambassador! I'm sure that you have some excellent reasons for that +remarkable statement, but I must say--" + +"It was a really colossal error on somebody's part," I said, "that this +case was allowed to get into the Court of Political Justice. It never +should have. And if we take a part in the prosecution, or allow those +men to be convicted, we will establish a precedent to support the +principle that a foreign Ambassador is, on this planet, defined as a +practicing local politician. + +"I will invite you to digest that for a moment." + +A moment was all they needed. Thrombley was horrified and dithered +incoherently. Stonehenge frowned and fidgeted with some papers in front +of him. I could see several thoughts gathering behind his eyes, +including, I was sure, a new view of his instructions from Klueng. + +Even Hoddy got at least part of it. "Why, that means that anybody can +bump off any diplomat he doesn't like...." he began. + +"That is only part of it, Mr. Ringo," Thrombley told him. "It also means +that a diplomat, instead of being regarded as the representative of his +own government, becomes, in effect, a functionary of the government of +New Texas. Why, all sorts of complications could arise...." + +"It certainly would impair, shall we say, the principle of +extraterritoriality of Embassies," Stonehenge picked it up. "And it +would practically destroy the principle of diplomatic immunity." + +"Migawd!" Hoddy looked around nervously, as though he could already hear +an army of New Texas Rangers, each with a warrant for Hoddy Ringo, +battering at the gates. + +"We'll have to do something!" Gomez, the Secretary of the Embassy, said. + +"I don't know what," Stonehenge said. "The obvious solution would be, of +course, to bring charges against those Bonney Boys on simple +first-degree murder, which would be tried in an ordinary criminal court. +But it's too late for that now. We wouldn't have time to prevent their +being arraigned in this Political Justice court, and once a defendant is +brought into court, on this planet, he cannot be brought into court +again for the same act. Not the same _crime_, the same _act_." + +I had been thinking about this and I was ready. "Look, we must bring +those Bonney brothers to trial. It's the only effective way of +demonstrating to the public the simple fact that Ambassador Cumshaw was +murdered at the instigation of the z'Srauff. We dare not allow them to +be convicted in the Court of Political Justice, for the reasons already +stated. And to maintain the prestige of the Solar League, we dare not +allow them to go unpunished." + +"We can have it one way," Parros said, "and maybe we can have it two +ways. But I'm damned if I can see how we can have it all three ways." + +I wasn't surprised that he didn't see it; he hadn't had the same urgency +goading him which had forced me to find the answer. It wasn't an answer +that I liked, but I was in the position where I had no choice. + +"Well, here's what we have to do, gentlemen," I began, and from the +respectful way they regarded me, from the attention they were giving my +words, I got a sudden thrill of pride. For the first time since my +scrambled arrival, I was really _Ambassador_ Stephen Silk. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +A couple of New Texas Ranger tanks met the Embassy car four blocks from +the Statehouse and convoyed us into the central plaza, where the +barbecue had been held on the Friday afternoon that I had arrived on New +Texas. There was almost as dense a crowd as the last time I had seen the +place; but they were quieter, to the extent that there were no bands, +and no shooting, no cowbells or whistles. The barbecue pits were going +again, however, and hawkers were pushing or propelling their little +wagons about, vending sandwiches. I saw a half a dozen big twenty-foot +teleview screens, apparently wired from the courtroom. + +As soon as the Embassy car and its escorting tanks reached the plaza, an +ovation broke out. I was cheered, with the high-pitched _yipeee!_ of New +Texans and adjured and implored not to let them so-and-sos get away with +it. + +There was a veritable army of Rangers on guard at the doors of the +courtroom. The only spectators being admitted to the courtroom seemed to +be prominent citizens with enough pull to secure passes. + +Inside, some of the spectators' benches had been removed to clear the +front of the room. In the cleared space, there was one bulky shape +under a cloth cover that seemed to be the air-car and another +cloth-covered shape that looked like a fifty-mm dual-purpose gun. +Smaller exhibits, including a twenty-mm auto-rifle, were piled on the +friends-of-the-court table. The prosecution table was already +occupied--Colonel Hickock, who waved a greeting to me, three or four men +who looked like well-to-do ranchers, and a delegation of lawyers. + +"Samuel Goodham," Parros, beside me, whispered, indicating a big, +heavy-set man with white hair, dressed in a dark suit of the cut that +had been fashionable on Terra seventy-five years ago. "Best criminal +lawyer on the planet. Hickock must have hired him." + +There was quite a swarm at the center table, too. Some of them were +ranchers, a couple in aggressively shabby workclothes, and there were +several members of the Diplomatic Corps. I shook hands with them and +gathered that they, like myself, were worried about the precedent that +might be established by this trial. While I was introducing Hoddy Ringo +as my attache extraordinary, which was no less than the truth, the +defense party came in. + +There were only three lawyers--a little, rodent-faced fellow, whom +Parros pointed out as Clement Sidney, and two assistants. And, guarded +by a Ranger and a couple of court-bailiffs, the three defendants, +Switchblade Joe, Jack-High Abe and Turkey-Buzzard Tom Bonney. There was +probably a year or so age different from one to another, but they +certainly had a common parentage. They all had pale eyes and narrow, +loose-lipped faces. Subnormal and probably psychopathic, I thought. +Jack-High Abe had his left arm in a sling and his left shoulder in a +plaster cast. The buzz of conversation among the spectators altered its +tone subtly and took on a note of hostility as they entered and seated +themselves. + +The balcony seemed to be crowded with press representatives. Several +telecast cameras and sound pickups had been rigged to cover the front of +the room from various angles, a feature that had been missing from the +trial I had seen with Gail on Friday. + +Then the judges entered from a door behind the bench, which must have +opened from a passageway under the plaza, and the court was called to +order. + +The President Judge was the same Nelson who had presided at the Whately +trial and the first thing on the agenda seemed to be the selection of a +new board of associate judges. Parros explained in a whisper that the +board which had served on the previous trial would sit until that could +be done. + +A slip of paper was drawn from a box and a name was called. A man +sitting on one of the front rows of spectators' seats got up and came +forward. One of Sidney's assistants rummaged through a card file he had +in front of him and handed a card to the chief of the defense. At once, +Sidney was on his feet. + +"Challenged, for cause!" he called out. "This man is known to have +declared, in conversation at the bar of the Silver Peso Saloon, here in +New Austin, that these three boys, my clients, ought all to be hanged +higher than Haman." + +"Yes, I said that!" the venireman declared. "I'll repeat it right here: +all three of these murdering skunks ought to be hanged higher than--" + +"Your Honor!" Sidney almost screamed. "If, after hearing this man's +brazen declaration of bigoted class hatred against my clients, he is +allowed to sit on that bench--" + +Judge Nelson pounded with his gavel. "You don't have to instruct me in +my judicial duties, Counselor," he said. "The venireman has obviously +disqualified himself by giving evidence of prejudice. Next name." + +The next man was challenged: he was a retired packing-house operator in +New Austin, and had once expressed the opinion that Bonneyville and +everybody in it ought to be H-bombed off the face of New Texas. + +This Sidney seemed to have gotten the name of everybody likely to be +called for court duty and had something on each one of them, because he +went on like that all morning. + +"You know what I think," Stonehenge whispered to me, leaning over behind +Parros. "I think he's just stalling to keep the court in session until +the z'Srauff fleet gets here. I wish we could get hold of one of those +wrist watches." + +"I can get you one, before evening," Hoddy offered, "if you don't care +what happens to the mutt that's wearin' it." + +"Better not," I decided. "Might tip them off to what we suspect. And we +don't really need one: Sir Rodney will have patrols out far enough to +get warning in time." + + +We took an hour, at noon, for lunch, and then it began again. By 1647, +fifteen minutes before court should be adjourned, Judge Nelson ordered +the bailiff to turn the clock back to 1300. The clock was turned back +again when it reached 1645. By this time, Clement Sidney was probably +the most unpopular man on New Texas. + +Finally, Colonel Andrew J. Hickock rose to his feet. + +"Your Honor: the present court is not obliged to retire from the bench +until another court has been chosen as they are now sitting as a court +in being. I propose that the trial begin, with the present court on the +bench." + +Sidney began yelling protests. Hoddy Ringo pulled his neckerchief around +under his left ear and held the ends above his head. Nanadabadian, the +Ambassador from Beta Cephus IV, drew his biggest knife and began trying +the edge on a sheet of paper. + +"Well, Your Honor, I certainly do not wish to act in an obstructionist +manner. The defense agrees to accept the present court," Sidney decided. + +"Prosecution agrees to accept the present court," Goodham parroted. + +"The present court will continue on the bench, to try the case of the +Friends of Silas Cumshaw, deceased, versus Switchblade Joe Bonney, +Jack-High Abe Bonney, Turkey-Buzzard Tom Bonney, et als." Judge Nelson +rapped with his gavel. "Court is herewith adjourned until 0900 +tomorrow." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +The trial got started the next morning with a minimum amount of +objections from Sidney. The charges and specifications were duly read, +the three defendants pleaded not guilty, and then Goodham advanced with +a paper in his hand to address the court. Sidney scampered up to take +his position beside him. + +"Your Honor, the prosecution wishes, subject to agreement of the +defense, to enter the following stipulations, to wit: First, that the +late Silas Cumshaw was a practicing politician within the meaning of the +law. Second, that he is now dead, and came to his death in the manner +attested to by the coroner of Sam Houston Continent. Third, that he came +to his death at the hands of the defendants here present." + +In all my planning, I'd forgotten that. I couldn't let those +stipulations stand without protest, and at the same time, if I protested +the characterization of Cumshaw as a practicing politician, the trial +could easily end right there. So I prayed for a miracle, and Clement +Sidney promptly obliged me. + +"Defense won't stipulate anything!" he barked. "My clients, here, are +victims of a monstrous conspiracy, a conspiracy to conceal the true +facts of the death of Silas Cumshaw. They ought never to have been +arrested or brought here, and if the prosecution wants to establish +anything, they can do it by testimony, in the regular and lawful way. +This practice of free-wheeling stipulation is only one of the many +devices by which the courts of this planet are being perverted to serve +the corrupt and unjust ends of a gang of reactionary landowners!" + +Judge Nelson's gavel hit the bench with a crack like a rifle shot. + +"Mr. Sidney! In justice to your clients, I would hate to force them to +change lawyers in the middle of their trial, but if I hear another +remark like that about the courts of New Texas, that's exactly what will +happen, because you'll be in jail for contempt! Is that clear, Mr. +Sidney?" + +I settled back with a deep sigh of relief which got me, I noticed, +curious stares from my fellow Ambassadors. I disregarded the questions +in their glances; I had what I wanted. + +They began calling up the witnesses. + +First, the doctor who had certified Ambassador Cumshaw's death. He gave +a concise description of the wounds which had killed my predecessor. +Sidney was trying to make something out of the fact that he was +Hickock's family physician, and consuming more time, when I got up. + +"Your Honor, I am present here as _amicus curiae_, because of the +obvious interest which the Government of the Solar League has in this +case...." + +"Objection!" Sidney yelled. + +"Please state it," Nelson invited. + +"This is a court of the people of the planet of New Texas. This foreign +emissary of the Solar League, sent here to conspire with New Texan +traitors to the end that New Texans shall be reduced to a supine and +ravished satrapy of the all-devouring empire of the Galaxy--" + +Judge Nelson rapped sharply. + +"Friends of the court are defined as persons having a proper interest in +the case. As this case arises from the death of the former Ambassador of +the Solar League, I cannot see how the present Ambassador and his staff +can be excluded. Overruled." He nodded to me. "Continue, Mr. +Ambassador." + +"As I understand, I have the same rights of cross-examination of +witnesses as counsel for the prosecution and defense; is that correct, +Your Honor?" It was, so I turned to the witness. "I suppose, Doctor, +that you have had quite a bit of experience, in your practice, with +gunshot wounds?" + +He chuckled. "Mr. Ambassador, it is gunshot-wound cases which keep the +practice of medicine and surgery alive on this planet. Yes, I definitely +have." + +"Now, you say that the deceased was hit by six different projectiles: +right shoulder almost completely severed, right lung and right ribs +blown out of the chest, spleen and kidneys so intermingled as to be +practically one, and left leg severed by complete shattering of the left +pelvis and hip-joint?" + +"That's right." + +I picked up the 20-mm auto-rifle--it weighed a good sixty pounds--from +the table, and asked him if this weapon could have inflicted such +wounds. He agreed that it both could and had. + +"This the usual type of weapon used in your New Texas political +liquidations?" I asked. + +"Certainly not. The usual weapons are pistols; sometimes a hunting-rifle +or a shotgun." + +I asked the same question when I cross-examined the ballistics witness. + +"Is this the usual type of weapon used in your New Texas political +liquidations?" + +"No, not at all. That's a very expensive weapon, Mr. Ambassador. Wasn't +even manufactured on this planet; made by the z'Srauff star-cluster. A +weapon like that sells for five, six hundred pesos. It's used for +shooting really big game--supermastodon, and things like that. And, of +course, for combat." + +"It seems," I remarked, "that the defense is overlooking an obvious +point there. I doubt if these three defendants ever, in all their lives, +had among them the price of such a weapon." + +That, of course, brought Sidney to his feet, sputtering objections to +this attempt to disparage the honest poverty of his clients, which only +helped to call attention to the point. + +Then the prosecution called in a witness named David Crockett +Longfellow. I'd met him at the Hickock ranch; he was Hickock's butler. +He limped from an old injury which had retired him from work on the +range. He was sworn in and testified to his name and occupation. + +"Do you know these three defendants?" Goodham asked him. + +"Yeah. I even marked one of them for future identification," Longfellow +replied. + +Sidney was up at once, shouting objections. After he was quieted down, +Goodham remarked that he'd come to that point later, and began a line of +questioning to establish that Longfellow had been on the Hickock ranch +on the day when Silas Cumshaw was killed. + +"Now," Goodham said, "will you relate to the court the matters of +interest which came to your personal observation on that day." + +Longfellow began his story. "At about 0900, I was dustin' up and +straightenin' things in the library while the Colonel was at his desk. +All of a sudden, he said to me, 'Davy, suppose you call the Solar +Embassy and see if Mr. Cumshaw is doin' anything today; if he isn't, ask +him if he wants to come out.' I was workin' right beside the +telescreen. So I called the Solar League Embassy. Mr. Thrombley took +the call, and I asked him was Mr. Cumshaw around. By this time, the +Colonel got through with what he was doin' at the desk and came over +to the screen. I went back to my work, but I heard the Colonel askin' +Mr. Cumshaw could he come out for the day, an' Mr. Cumshaw sayin', +yes, he could; he'd be out by about 1030. + +"Well, 'long about 1030, his air-car came in and landed on the drive. +Little single-seat job that he drove himself. He landed it about a +hundred feet from the outside veranda, like he usually did, and got out. + +"Then, this other car came droppin' in from outa nowhere. I didn't pay +it much attention; thought it might be one of the other Ambassadors that +Mr. Cumshaw'd brung along. But Mr. Cumshaw turned around and looked at +it, and then he started to run for the veranda. I was standin' in the +doorway when I seen him startin' to run. I jumped out on the porch, +quick-like, and pulled my gun, and then this auto-rifle begun firin' +outa the other car. There was only eight or ten shots fired from this +car, but most of them hit Mr. Cumshaw." + +Goodham waited a few moments. Longfellow's voice had choked and there +was a twitching about his face, as though he were trying to suppress +tears. + +"Now, Mr. Longfellow," Goodham said, "did you recognize the people who +were in the car from which the shots came?" + +"Yeah. Like I said, I cut a mark on one of them. That one there: +Jack-High Abe Bonney. He was handlin' the gun, and from where I was, he +had his left side to me. I was tryin' for his head, but I always +overshoot, so I have the habit of holdin' low. This time I held too +low." He looked at Jack-High in coldly poisonous hatred. "I'll be sorry +about that as long as I live." + +"And who else was in the car?" + +"The other two curs outa the same litter: Switchblade an' +Turkey-Buzzard, over there." + +Further questioning revealed that Longfellow had had no direct knowledge +of the pursuit, or the siege of the jail in Bonneyville. Colonel Hickock +had taken personal command of that, and had left Longfellow behind to +call the Solar League Embassy and the Rangers. He had made no attempt to +move the body, but had left it lying in the driveway until the doctor +and the Rangers arrived. + +Goodham went to the middle table and picked up a heavy automatic pistol. + +"I call the court's attention to this pistol. It is an eleven-mm +automatic, manufactured by the Colt Firearms Company of New Texas, a +licensed subsidiary of the Colt Firearms Company of Terra." He handed it +to Longfellow. "Do you know this pistol?" he asked. + +Longfellow was almost insulted by the question. Of course he knew his +own pistol. He recited the serial number, and pointed to different scars +and scratches on the weapon, telling how they had been acquired. + +"The court accepts that Mr. Longfellow knows his own weapon," Nelson +said. "I assume that this is the weapon with which you claim to have +shot Jack-High Abe Bonney?" + +It was, although Longfellow resented the qualification. + +"That's all. Your witness, Mr. Sidney," Goodham said. + +Sidney began an immediate attack. + +Questioning Longfellow's eyesight, intelligence, honesty and integrity, +he tried to show personal enmity toward the Bonneys. He implied that +Longfellow had been conspiring with Cumshaw to bring about the conquest +of New Texas by the Solar League. The verbal exchange became so heated +that both witness and attorney had to be admonished repeatedly from the +bench. But at no point did Sidney shake Longfellow from his one +fundamental statement, that the Bonney brothers had shot Silas Cumshaw +and that he had shot Jack-High Abe Bonney in the shoulder. + +When he was finished, I got up and took over. + +"Mr. Longfellow, you say that Mr. Thrombley answered the screen at the +Solar League Embassy," I began. "You know Mr. Thrombley?" + +"Sure, Mr. Silk. He's been out at the ranch with Mr. Cumshaw a lotta +times." + +"Well, beside yourself and Colonel Hickock and Mr. Cumshaw and, +possibly, Mr. Thrombley, who else knew that Mr. Cumshaw would be at the +ranch at 1030 on that morning?" + +Nobody. But the aircar had obviously been waiting for Mr. Cumshaw; the +Bonneys must have had advance knowledge. My questions made that point +clear despite the obvious--and reluctantly court-sustained--objections +from Mr. Sidney. + +"That will be all, Mr. Longfellow; thank you. Any questions from anybody +else?" + +There being none, Longfellow stepped down. It was then a few minutes +before noon, so Judge Nelson recessed court for an hour and a half. + + +In the afternoon, the surgeon who had treated Jack-High Abe Bonney's +wounded shoulder testified, identifying the bullet which had been +extracted from Bonney's shoulder. A ballistics man from Ranger crime-lab +followed him to the stand and testified that it had been fired from +Longfellow's Colt. Then Ranger Captain Nelson took the stand. His +testimony was about what he had given me at the Embassy, with the +exception that the Bonneys' admission that they had shot Ambassador +Cumshaw was ruled out as having been made under duress. + +However, Captain Nelson's testimony didn't need the confessions. + +The cover was stripped off the air-car, and a couple of men with a +power-dolly dragged it out in front of the bench. The Ranger Captain +identified it as the car which he had found at the Bonneyville jail. He +went over it with an ultra-violet flashlight and showed where he had +written his name and the date on it with fluorescent ink. The effects of +AA-fire were plainly evident on it. + +Then the other shrouded object was unveiled and identified as the gun +which had disabled the air-car. Colonel Hickock identified the gun as +the one with which he had fired on the air-car. Finally, the ballistics +expert was brought back to the stand again, to link the two by means of +fragments found in the car. + +Then Goodham brought Kettle-Belly Sam Bonney to the stand. + +The Mayor of Bonneyville was a man of fifty or so, short, partially +bald, dressed in faded blue Levis, a frayed white shirt, and a +grease-spotted vest. There was absolutely no mystery about how he had +acquired his nickname. He disgorged a cud of tobacco into a spittoon, +took the oath with unctuous solemnity, then reloaded himself with +another chew and told his version of the attack on the jail. + +At about 1045 on the day in question, he testified, he had been in his +office, hard at work in the public service, when an air-car, partially +disabled by gunfire, had landed in the street outside and the three +defendants had rushed in, claiming sanctuary. From then on, the story +flowed along smoothly, following the lines predicted by Captain Nelson +and Parros. Of course he had given the fugitives shelter; they had +claimed to have been near to a political assassination and were in fear +of their lives. + +Under Sidney's cross-examination, and coaching, he poured out the story +of Bonneyville's wrongs at the hands of the reactionary landowners, and +the atrocious behavior of the Hickock goon-gang. Finally, after +extracting the last drop of class-hatred venom out of him, Sidney turned +him over to me. + +"How many men were inside the jail when the three defendants came +claiming sanctuary?" I asked. + +He couldn't rightly say, maybe four or five. + +"Closer twenty-five, according to the Rangers. How many of them were +prisoners in the jail?" + +"Well, none. The prisoners was all turned out that mornin'. They was +just common drunks, disorderly conduct cases, that kinda thing. We +turned them out so's we could make some repairs." + +"You turned them out because you expected to have to defend the jail; +because you knew in advance that these three would be along claiming +sanctuary, and that Colonel Hickock's ranch hands would be right on +their heels, didn't you?" I demanded. + +It took a good five minutes before Sidney stopped shouting long enough +for Judge Nelson to sustain the objection. + +"You knew these young men all their lives, I take it. What did you know +about their financial circumstances, for instance?" + +"Well, they've been ground down an' kept poor by the big ranchers an' +the money-guys...." + +"Then weren't you surprised to see them driving such an expensive +aircar?" + +"I don't know as it's such an expensive--" he shut his mouth suddenly. + +"You know where they got the money to buy that car?" I pressed. + +Kettle-Belly Sam didn't answer. + +"From the man who paid them to murder Ambassador Silas Cumshaw?" I kept +pressing. "Do you know how much they were paid for that job? Do you know +where the money came from? Do you know who the go-between was, and how +much he got, and how much he kept for himself? Was it the same source +that paid for the recent attempt on President Hutchinson's life?" + +"I refuse to answer!" the witness declared, trying to shove his chest +out about half as far as his midriff. "On the grounds that it might +incriminate or degrade me!" + +"You can't degrade a Bonney!" a voice from the balcony put in. + +"So then," I replied to the voice, "what he means is, incriminate." I +turned to the witness. "That will be all. Excused." + +As Bonney left the stand and was led out the side door, Goodham +addressed the bench. + +"Now, Your Honor," he said, "I believe that the prosecution has +succeeded in definitely establishing that these three defendants +actually did fire the shot which, on April 22, 2193, deprived Silas +Cumshaw of his life. We will now undertake to prove...." + +Followed a long succession of witnesses, each testifying to some public +or private act of philanthropy, some noble trait of character. It was +the sort of thing which the defense lawyer in the Whately case had been +so willing to stipulate. Sidney, of course, tried to make it all out to +be part of a sinister conspiracy to establish a Solar League fifth +column on New Texas. Finally, the prosecution rested its case. + +I entertained Gail and her father at the Embassy, that evening. The +street outside was crowded with New Texans, all of them on our side, +shouting slogans like, "Death to the Bonneys!" and "Vengeance for +Cumshaw!" and "Annexation Now!" Some of it was entirely spontaneous, +too. The Hickocks, father and daughter, were given a tremendous ovation, +when they finally left, and followed to their hotel by cheering crowds. +I saw one big banner, lettered: 'DON'T LET NEW TEXAS GO TO THE DOGS.' +and bearing a crude picture of a z'Srauff. I seemed to recall having +seen a couple of our Marines making that banner the evening before in +the Embassy patio, but.... + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +The next morning, the third of the trial, opened with the defense +witnesses, character-witnesses for the three killers and witnesses to +the political iniquities of Silas Cumshaw. + +Neither Goodham nor I bothered to cross-examine the former. I couldn't +see how any lawyer as shrewd as Sidney had shown himself to be would +even dream of getting such an array of thugs, cutthroats, sluts and +slatterns into court as character witnesses for anybody. + +The latter, on the other hand, we went after unmercifully, revealing, +under their enmity for Cumshaw, a small, hard core of bigoted xenophobia +and selfish fear. Goodham did a beautiful job on that; he seemed able, +at a glance, to divine exactly what each witness's motivation was, and +able to make him or her betray that motivation in its least admirable +terms. Finally the defense rested, about a quarter-hour before noon. + +I rose and addressed the court: + +"Your Honor, while both the prosecution and the defense have done an +admirable job in bringing out the essential facts of how my predecessor +met his death, there are many features about this case which are far +from clear to me. They will be even less clear to my government, which +is composed of men who have never set foot on this planet. For this +reason, I wish to call, or recall, certain witnesses to clarify these +points." + +Sidney, who had begun shouting objections as soon as I had gotten to my +feet, finally managed to get himself recognized by the court. + +"This Solar League Ambassador, Your Honor, is simply trying to use the +courts of the Planet of New Texas as a sounding-board for his +imperialistic government's propaganda...." + +"You may reassure yourself, Mr. Sidney," Judge Nelson said. "This court +will not allow itself to be improperly used, or improperly swayed, by +the Ambassador of the Solar League. This court is interested only in +determining the facts regarding the case before it. You may call your +witnesses, Mr. Ambassador." He glanced at his watch. "Court will now +recess for an hour and a half; can you have them here by 1330?" + +I assured him I could after glancing across the room at Ranger Captain +Nelson and catching his nod. + + +My first witness, that afternoon was Thrombley. After the formalities of +getting his name and connection with the Solar League Embassy on the +record, I asked him, "Mr. Thrombley, did you, on the morning of April +22, receive a call from the Hickock ranch for Mr. Cumshaw?" + +"Yes, indeed, Mr. Ambassador. The call was from Mr. Longfellow, Colonel +Hickock's butler. He asked if Mr. Cumshaw were available. It happened +that Mr. Cumshaw was in the same room with me, and he came directly to +the screen. Then Colonel Hickock appeared in the screen, and inquired +if Mr. Cumshaw could come out to the ranch for the day; he said +something about superdove shooting." + +"You heard Mr. Cumshaw tell Colonel Hickock that he would be out at the +ranch at about 1030?" Thrombley said he had. "And, to your knowledge, +did anybody else at the Embassy hear that?" + +"Oh, no, sir; we were in the Ambassador's private office, and the screen +there is tap-proof." + +"And what other calls did you receive, prior to Mr. Cumshaw's death?" + +"About fifteen minutes after Mr. Cumshaw had left, the z'Srauff +Ambassador called, about a personal matter. As he was most anxious to +contact Mr. Cumshaw, I told him where he had gone." + +"Then, to your knowledge, outside of yourself, Colonel Hickock, and his +butler, the z'Srauff Ambassador was the only person who could have known +that Mr. Cumshaw's car would be landing on Colonel Hickock's drive at or +about 1030. Is that correct?" + +"Yes, plus anybody whom the z'Srauff Ambassador might have told." + +"Exactly!" I pounced. Then I turned and gave the three Bonney brothers a +sweeping glance. "Plus anybody the z'Srauff Ambassador might have +told.... That's all. Your witness, Mr. Sidney." + +Sidney got up, started toward the witness stand, and then thought better +of it. + +"No questions," he said. + +The next witness was a Mr. James Finnegan; he was identified as cashier +of the Crooked Creek National Bank. I asked him if Kettle-Belly Sam +Bonney did business at his bank; he said yes. + +"Anything unusual about Mayor Bonney's account?" I asked. + +"Well, it's been unusually active lately. Ordinarily, he carries around +two-three thousand pesos, but about the first of April, that took a big +jump. Quite a big jump; two hundred and fifty thousand pesos, all in a +lump." + +"When did Kettle-Belly Sam deposit this large sum?" I asked. + +"He didn't. The money came to us in a cashier's check on the Ranchers' +Trust Company of New Austin with an anonymous letter asking that it be +deposited to Mayor Bonney's account. The letter was typed on a sheet of +yellow paper in Basic English." + +"Do you have that letter now?" I asked. + +"No, I don't. After we'd recorded the new balance, Kettle-Belly came +storming in, raising hell because we'd recorded it. He told me that if +we ever got another deposit like that, we were to turn it over to him in +cash. Then he wanted to see the letter, and when I gave it to him, he +took it over to a telescreen booth, and drew the curtains. I got a +little busy with some other matters, and the next time I looked, +Kettle-Belly was gone and some girl was using the booth." + +"That's very interesting, Mr. Finnegan. Was that the last of your +unusual business with Mayor Bonney?" + +"Oh, no. Then, about two weeks before Mr. Cumshaw was killed, +Kettle-Belly came in and wanted 50,000 pesos, in a big hurry, in small +bills. I gave it to him, and he grabbed at the money like a starved dog +at a bone, and upset a bottle of red perma-ink, the sort we use to +refill our bank seals. Three of the bills got splashed. I offered to +exchange them, but he said, 'Hell with it; I'm in a hurry,' and went +out. The next day, Switchblade Joe Bonney came in to make payment on a +note we were holding on him. He used those three bills in the payment. + +"Then, about a week ago, there was another cashier's check came in for +Kettle-Belly. This time, there was no letter; just one of our regular +deposit-slips. No name of depositor. I held the check, and gave it to +Kettle-Belly. I remember, when it came in, I said to one of the clerks, +'Well, I wonder who's going to get bumped off this time.' And sure +enough ..." + +Sidney's yell of, "Objection!" was all his previous objections gathered +into one. + +"You say the letter accompanying the first deposit, the one in Basic +English, was apparently taken away by Kettle-Belly Sam Bonney. If you +saw another letter of the same sort, would you be able to say whether or +not it might be like the one you mentioned?" + +Sidney vociferating more objections; I was trying to get expert +testimony without previous qualification.... + +"Not at all, Mr. Sidney," Judge Nelson ruled. "Mr. Silk has merely asked +if Mr. Finnegan could say whether one document bore any resemblance to +another." + +I asked permission to have another witness sworn in while Finnegan was +still on the stand, and called in a Mr. Boone, the cashier of the +Packers' and Brokers' Trust Company of New Austin. He had with him a +letter, typed on yellow paper, which he said had accompanied an +anonymous deposit of two hundred thousand pesos. Mr. Finnegan said that +it was exactly like the one he had received, in typing, grammar and +wording, all but the name of the person to whose account the money was +to be deposited. + +"And whose account received this anonymous benefaction, Mr. Boone?" I +asked. + +"The account," Boone replied, "of Mr. Clement Sidney." + +I was surprised that Judge Nelson didn't break the handle of his gavel, +after that. Finally, after a couple of threats to clear the court, order +was restored. Mr. Sidney had no questions to ask this time, either. + +The bailiff looked at the next slip of paper I gave him, frowned over +it, and finally asked the court for assistance. + +"I can't pronounce this-here thing, at all," he complained. + +One of the judges finally got out a mouthful of growls and yaps, and +gave it to the clerk of the court to copy into the record. The next +witness was a z'Srauff, and in the New Texan garb he was wearing, he was +something to open my eyes, even after years on the Hooligan Diplomats. + +After he took the stand, the clerk of the court looked at him blankly +for a moment. Then he turned to Judge Nelson. + +"Your Honor, how am I gonna go about swearing him in?" he asked. "What +does a z'Srauff swear by, that's binding?" + +The President Judge frowned for a moment. "Does anybody here know Basic +well enough to translate the oath?" he asked. + +"I think I can," I offered. "I spent a great many years in our Consular +Service, before I was sent here. We use Basic with a great many alien +peoples." + +"Administer the oath, then," Nelson told me. + +"Put up right hand," I told the z'Srauff. "Do you truly say, in front of +Great One who made all worlds, who has knowledge of what is in the +hearts of all persons, that what you will say here will be true, all +true, and not anything that is not true, and will you so say again at +time when all worlds end? Do you so truly say?" + +"Yes. I so truly say." + +"Say your name." + +"Ppmegll Kkuvtmmecc Cicici." + +"What is your business?" + +"I put things made of cloth into this world, and I take meat out of this +world." + +"Where do you have your house?" + +"Here in New Austin, over my house of business, on Coronado Street." + +"What people do you see in this place that you have made business with?" + +Ppmegll Kkuvtmmecc Cicici pointed a three-fingered hand at the Bonney +brothers. + +"What business did you make with them?" + +"I gave them for money a machine which goes on the ground and goes in +the air very fast, to take persons and things about." + +"Is that the thing you gave them for money?" I asked, pointing at the +exhibit air-car. + +"Yes, but it was new then. It has been made broken by things from guns +now." + +"What money did they give you for the machine?" + +"One hundred pesos." + +That started another uproar. There wasn't a soul in that courtroom who +didn't know that five thousand pesos would have been a give-away bargain +price for that car. + +"Mr. Ambassador," one of the associate judges interrupted. "I used to be +in the used-car business. Am I expected to believe that this ... this +being ... sold that air-car for a hundred pesos?" + +"Here's a notarized copy of the bill of sale, from the office of the +Vehicles Registration Bureau," I said. "I introduce it as evidence." + +There was a disturbance at the back of the room, and then the z'Srauff +Ambassador, Gglafrr Ddespttann Vuvuvu, came stalking down the aisle, +followed by a couple of Rangers and two of his attaches. He came forward +and addressed the court. + +"May you be happy, sir, but I am in here so quickly not because I have +desire to make noise, but because it is only short time since it got in +my knowledge that one of my persons is in this place. I am here to be of +help to him that he not get in trouble, and to be of help to you. The +name for what I am to do in this place is not part of my knowledge. +Please say it for me." + +"You are a friend of the court," Judge Nelson told him. "An _amicus +curiae_." + +"You make me happy. Please go on; I have no desire to put stop to what +you do in this place." + +"From what person did you get this machine that you gave to these +persons for one hundred pesos?" I asked. + +Gglafrr immediately began barking and snarling and yelping at my +witness. The drygoods importer looked startled, and Judge Nelson banged +with his gavel. + +"That's enough of that! There'll be nothing spoken in this court but +English, except through an interpreter!" + +"Yow! I am sad that what I did was not right," the z'Srauff Ambassador +replied contritely. "But my person here has not as part of his knowledge +that you will make him say what may put him in trouble." + +Nelson nodded in agreement. + +"You are right: this person who is here has no need to make answer to +any question if it may put him in trouble or make him seem less than he +is." + +"I will not make answer," the witness said. + +"No further questions." + +I turned to Goodham, and then to Sidney; they had no questions, either. +I handed another slip of paper to the bailiff, and another z'Srauff, +named Bbrarkk Jjoknyyegg Kekeke took the stand. + +He put into this world things for small persons to make amusement with; +he took out of this world meat and leather. He had his house of business +in New Austin, and he pointed out the three Bonneys as persons in this +place that he saw that he had seen before. + +"And what business did you make with them?" I asked. + +"I gave them for money a gun which sends out things of +twenty-millimeters very fast, to make death or hurt come to men and +animals and does destruction to machines and things." + +"Is this the gun?" I showed it to him. + +"It could be. The gun was made in my world; many guns like it are made +there. I am certain that this is the very gun." + +I had a notarized copy of a customs house bill in which the gun was +described and specified by serial number. I introduced it as evidence. + +"How much money did these three persons give you for this gun?" I asked. + +"Five pesos." + +"The customs appraisal on this gun is six hundred pesos," I mentioned. + +Immediately, Ambassador Vuvuvu was on his feet. "My person here has not +as part of his knowledge that he may put himself in trouble by what he +says to answer these questions." + +That put a stop to that. Bbrarkk Jjoknyyegg Kekeke immediately took +refuge in refusal to answer on grounds of self-incrimination. + +"That is all, Your Honor," I said, "And now," I continued, when the +witness had left the stand, "I have something further to present to the +court, speaking both as _amicus curiae_ and as Ambassador of the Solar +League. This court cannot convict the three men who are here on trial. +These men should have never been brought to trial in this court: it has +no jurisdiction over this case. This was a simple case of first-degree +murder, by hired assassins, committed against the Ambassador of one +government at the instigation of another, not an act of political +protest within the meaning of New Texan law." + +There was a brief silence; both the court and the spectators were +stunned, and most stunned of all were the three Bonney brothers, who had +been watching, fear-sick, while I had been putting a rope around their +necks. The uproar from the rear of the courtroom gave Judge Nelson a +needed minute or so to collect his thoughts. After he had gotten order +restored, he turned to me, grim-faced. + +"Ambassador Silk, will you please elaborate on the extraordinary +statement you have just made," he invited, as though every word had +sharp corners that were sticking in his throat. + +"Gladly, Your Honor." My words, too, were gouging and scraping my throat +as they came out; I could feel my knees getting absurdly weak, and my +mouth tasted as though I had an old copper penny in it. + +"As I understand it, the laws of New Texas do not extend their ordinary +protection to persons engaged in the practice of politics. An act of +personal injury against a politician is considered criminal only to the +extent that the politician injured has not, by his public acts, deserved +the degree of severity with which he has been injured, and the Court of +Political Justice is established for the purpose of determining whether +or not there has been such an excess of severity in the treatment meted +out by the accused to the injured or deceased politician. This gives +rise, of course, to some interesting practices; for instance, what is at +law a trial of the accused is, in substance, a trial of his victim. But +in any case tried in this court, the accused must be a person who has +injured or killed a man who is definable as a practicing politician +under the government of New Texas. + +"Speaking for my government, I must deny that these men should have been +tried in this court for the murder of Silas Cumshaw. To do otherwise +would establish the principle and precedent that our Ambassador, or any +other Ambassador here, is a practicing politician under--mark that well, +Your Honor--under the laws and government of New Texas. This would not +only make of any Ambassador a permissable target for any marksman who +happened to disapprove of the policies of another government, but more +serious, it would place the Ambassador and his government in a +subordinate position relative to the government of New Texas. This the +government of the Solar League simply cannot tolerate, for reasons which +it would be insulting to the intelligence of this court to enumerate." + +"Mr. Silk," Judge Nelson said gravely. "This court takes full cognizance +of the force of your arguments. However, I'd like to know why you +permitted this trial to run to this length before entering this +objection. Surely you could have made clear the position of your +government at the beginning of this trial." + +"Your Honor," I said, "had I done so, these defendants would have been +released, and the facts behind their crime would have never come to +light. I grant that the important function of this court is to determine +questions of relative guilt and innocence. We must not lose sight, +however, of the fact that the primary function of any court is to +determine the truth, and only by the process of the trial of these +depraved murderers-for-hire could the real author of the crime be +uncovered. + +"This was important, both for the government of the Solar League and the +government of New Texas. My government now knows who procured the death +of Silas Cumshaw, and we will take appropriate action. The government +of New Texas has now had spelled out, in letters anyone can read, the +fact that this beautiful planet is in truth a _battleground_. Awareness +of this may save New Texas from being the scene of a larger and more +destructive battle. New Texas also knows who are its enemies, and who +can be counted upon to stand as its friends." + +"Yes, Mr. Silk. Mr. Vuvuvu, I haven't heard any comment from you.... No +comment? Well, we'll have to close the court, to consider this phase of +the question." + +The black screen slid up, for the second time during the trial. There +was silence for a moment, and then the room became a bubbling pot of +sound. At least six fights broke out among the spectators within three +minutes; the Rangers and court bailiffs were busy restoring order. + +Gail Hickock, who had been sitting on the front row of the spectators' +seats, came running up while I was still receiving the congratulations +of my fellow diplomats. + +"Stephen! How _could_ you?" she demanded. "You know what you've done? +You've gotten those murdering snakes turned loose!" + +Andrew Jackson Hickock left the prosecution table and approached. + +"Mr. Silk! You've just secured the freedom of three men who murdered one +of my best friends!" + +"Colonel Hickock, I believe I knew Silas Cumshaw before you did. He was +one of my instructors at Dumbarton Oaks, and I have always had the +deepest respect and admiration for him. But he taught me one thing, +which you seem to have forgotten since you expatriated yourself--that +in the Diplomatic Service, personal feelings don't count. The only +thing of importance is the advancement of the policies of the Solar +League." + +"Silas and I were attaches together, at the old Embassy at Drammool, on +Altair II," Colonel Hickock said. What else he might have said was lost +in the sudden exclamation as the black screen slid down. In front of +Judge Nelson, I saw, there were three pistol-belts, and three pairs of +automatics. + +"Switchblade Joe Bonney, Jack-High Abe Bonney, Turkey-Buzzard Tom +Bonney, together with your counsel, approach the court and hear the +verdict," Judge Nelson said. + +The three defendants and their lawyer rose. The Bonneys were swaggering +and laughing, but for a lawyer whose clients had just emerged from the +shadow of the gallows, Sidney was looking remarkably unhappy. He +probably had imagination enough to see what would be waiting for him +outside. + +"It pains me inexpressibly," Judge Nelson said, "to inform you three +that this court cannot convict you of the cowardly murder of that +learned and honorable old man, Silas Cumshaw, nor can you be brought to +trial in any other court on New Texas again for that dastardly crime. +Here are your weapons, which must be returned to you. Sort them out +yourselves, because I won't dirty my fingers on them. And may you regret +and feel shame for your despicable act as long as you live, which I hope +won't be more than a few hours." + +With that, he used the end of his gavel to push the three belts off the +bench and onto the floor at the Bonneys' feet. They stood laughing at +him for a few moments, then stopped, picked the belts up, drew the +pistols to check magazines and chambers, and then began slapping each +others' backs and shouting jubilant congratulations at one another. +Sidney's two assistants and some of his friends came up and began +pumping Sidney's hands. + +"There!" Gail flung at me. "Now look at your masterpiece! Why don't you +go up and congratulate him, too?" + +And with that, she slapped me across the face. It hurt like the devil; +she was a lot stronger than I'd expected. + +"In about two minutes," I told her, "you can apologize to me for that, +or weep over my corpse. Right now, though, you'd better be getting +behind something solid." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +I turned and stepped forward to confront the Bonneys, mentally thanking +Gail. Up until she'd slapped me, I'd been weak-kneed and dry-mouthed +with what I had to do. Now I was just plain angry, and I found that I +was thinking a lot more clearly. Jack-High Bonney's wounded left +shoulder, I knew, wouldn't keep him from using his gun hand, but his +shoulder muscles would be stiff enough to slow his draw. I'd intended +saving him until I'd dealt with his brothers. Now, I remembered how he'd +gotten that wound in the first place: he'd been the one who'd used the +auto-rifle, out at the Hickock ranch. So I changed my plans and moved +him up to top priority. + +"Hold it!" I yelled at them. "You've been cleared of killing a +politician, but you still have killing a Solar League Ambassador to +answer for. Now get your hands full of guns, if you don't want to die +with them empty!" + +The crowd of sympathizers and felicitators simply exploded away from the +Bonney brothers. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sidney and a fat, +blowsy woman with brass-colored hair as they both tried to dive under +the friends-of-the-court table at the same place. The Bonney brothers +simply stood and stared at me, for an instant, unbelievingly, as I got +my thumbs on the release-studs of my belt. Judge Nelson's gavel was +hammering, and he was shouting: + +"Court-of-Political-Justice-Confederate-Continent-of-New-Texas-is-herewith- +adjourned-reconvene-0900-tomorrow. _Hit the floor!_" + +"Damn! He means it!" Switchblade Joe Bonney exclaimed. + +Then they all reached for their guns. They were still reaching when I +pressed the studs and the Krupp-Tattas popped up into my hands, and I +swung up my right-hand gun and shot Jack-High through the head. After +that, I just let my subconscious take over. I saw gun flames jump out at +me from the Bonneys' weapons, and I felt my own pistols leap and writhe +in my hands, but I don't believe I was aware of hearing the shots, not +even from my own weapons. The whole thing probably lasted five seconds, +but it seemed like twenty minutes to me. Then there was nobody shooting +at me, and nobody for me to shoot at; the big room was silent, and I was +aware that Judge Nelson and his eight associates were rising cautiously +from behind the bench. + +I holstered my left-hand gun, removed and replaced the magazine of the +right-hand gun, then holstered it and reloaded the other one. Hoddy +Ringo and Francisco Parros and Commander Stonehenge were on their feet, +their pistols drawn, covering the spectators' seats. Colonel Hickock had +also drawn a pistol and he was covering Sidney with it, occasionally +moving the muzzle to the left to include the z'Srauff Ambassador and his +two attaches. + +By this time, Nelson and the other eight judges were in their seats, +trying to look calm and judicial. + +"Your Honor," I said, "I fully realize that no judge likes to have his +court turned into a shooting gallery. I can assure you, however, that my +action here was not the result of any lack of respect for this court. It +was pure necessity. Your Honor can see that: my government could not +permit this crime against its Ambassador to pass unpunished." + +Judge Nelson nodded solemnly. "Court was adjourned when this little +incident happened, Mr. Silk," he said. + +He leaned forward and looked to where the three Bonney brothers were +making a mess of blood on the floor. "I trust that nobody will construe +my unofficial and personal comments here as establishing any legal +precedent, and I wouldn't like to see this sort of thing become +customary ... but ... you did that all by yourself, with those little +beanshooters?... Not bad, not bad at all, Mr. Silk." + +I thanked him, then turned to the z'Srauff Ambassador. I didn't bother +putting my remarks into Basic. He understood, as well as I did, what I +was saying. + +"Look, Fido," I told him, "my government is quite well aware of the +source from which the orders for the murder of my predecessor came. +These men I just killed were only the tools. + +"We're going to get the brains behind them, if we have to send every +warship we own into the z'Srauff star-cluster and devastate every planet +in it. We don't let dogs snap at us. And when they do, we don't kick +them, we shoot them!" + +That, of course, was not exactly striped-pants diplomatic language. I +wondered, for a moment, what Norman Gazarian, the protocol man, would +think if he heard an Ambassador calling another Ambassador Fido. + +But it seemed to be the kind of language that Mr. Vuvuvu understood. He +skinned back his upper lip at me and began snarling and growling. Then +he turned on his hind paws and padded angrily down the aisle away from +the front of the courtroom. + +The spectators around him and above him began barking, baying, yelping +at him: "Tie a can to his tail!" "Git for home, Bruno!" + +Then somebody yelled, "Hey, look! Even his wrist watch is blushing!" + +That was perfectly true. Mr. Gglafrr Ddespttann Vuvuvu's watch-face, +normally white, was now glowing a bright ruby-red. + +I looked at Stonehenge and found him looking at me. It would be full +dark in four or five hours; there ought to be something spectacular to +see in the cloudless skies of Capella IV tonight. + +Fleet Admiral Sir Rodney Tregaskis would see to that. + + +_FROM REPORT +OF SPACE-COMMANDER STONEHENGE +TO SECRETARY OF AGGRESSION, KLUeNG: + +... so the measures considered by yourself +and Secretary of State Ghopal Singh and Security +Cooerdinator Natalenko, as transmitted to me by +Mr. Hoddy Ringo, were not, I am glad to say, +needed. Ambassador Silk, alive, handled the +thing much better than Ambassador Silk, dead, +could possibly have. + +... to confirm Sir Rodney Tregaskis' report from the tales of the few +survivors, the z'Srauff attack came as the Ambassador had expected. They +dropped out of hyperspace about seventy light-minutes outside the +Capella system, apparently in complete ignorance of the presence of our +fleet. + +... have learned the entire fleet consisted of about three hundred +spaceships and reports reaching here indicate that no more than twenty +got back to z'Srauff Cluster. + +... naturally, the whole affair has had a profound influence, an +influence to the benefit of the Solar League, on all shades of public +opinion. + +... as you properly assumed, Mr. Hoddy Ringo is no longer with us. When +it became apparent that the Palme-Silk Annexation Treaty would be +ratified here, Mr. Ringo immediately saw that his status of diplomatic +immunity would automatically terminate. Accordingly, he left this +system, embarking from New Austin for Alderbaran IX, mentioning, as he +shook hands with me, something about a widow. By a curious coincidence, +the richest branch bank in the city was held up by a lone bandit about +half an hour before he boarded the space-ship...._ + + +_FINAL MESSAGE +OF THE LAST SOLAR AMBASSADOR TO NEW +TEXAS +STEPHEN SILK + +Copies of the Treaty of Annexation, duly ratified by the New Texas +Legislature, herewith. + +Please note that the guarantees of non-intervention in local political +institutions are the very minimum which are acceptable to the people of +New Texas. They are especially adamant that there will be no change in +their peculiar methods of insuring that their elected and appointed +public officials shall be responsible to the electorate. + + DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM + +_After the ratification of the Palme-Silk treaty, Mr. Silk remained on +New Texas, married the daughter of a local rancher there (see file on +First Ambassador, Colonel Andrew Jackson Hickock) and is still active in +politics on that planet, often in opposition to Solar League policies, +which he seems to anticipate with an almost uncanny prescience._ + + +Natalenko re-read the addendum, pursed his thick lips and sighed. There +were so many ways he could be using Mr. Stephen Silk.... + +For example--he looked at the tri-di star-map, both usefully and +beautifully decorating his walls--over there, where Hoddy Ringo had +gone, near Alderbaran IX. + +Those were twin planets, one apparently settled by the equivalent +descendants of the Edwards and the other inhabited by the children of a +Jukes-Kallikak union. Even the Solar League Ambassadors there had taken +the viewpoints of the planets to whom they were accredited, instead of +the all-embracing view which their training should have given them.... + +Curious problem ... and, how would Stephen Silk have handled it? + +The Security Cooerdinator scrawled a note comprehensible only to +himself.... + + + + + +Brilliant New Novel from Award-Winning Author of Alien Embassy! + +In MIRACLE VISITORS, Ian Watson has created a fascinating novel that +explores the UFO phenomenon, a novel that will endlessly intrigue and +envelop the reader. $1.95 + +[Illustration: Book Cover] + +Available wherever books are sold, or order by mail from Book Mailing +Service, Box 690, Rockville Centre, N.Y. 11571. Please add 50c postage +and handling. 109 + + +ACE SCIENCE FICTION 360 PARK AVENUE SOUTH . NEW YORK, N.Y. 10010 + + + + + +Zero Population Growth Achieved! + +But at what cost? The world now exists with a mandatory abortion law and +sexual freedom reigns. Is this truly a world where ... LOVE CONQUERS ALL + +$1.95 + +[Illustration: Book Cover] + +Available wherever books are sold, or order by mail from Book Mailing +Service, Box 690, Rockville Centre, N.Y. 11571. Please add 50c postage +and handling. 110 + + +ACE SCIENCE FICTION 360 PARK AVENUE SOUTH .NEW YORK, N.Y. 10010 + + + + + +Four-Day Planet + +Fenris isn't a hell planet, but it's nobody's bargain. With 2,000-hour +days and an 8,000-hour year, it alternates blazing heat with killing +cold. A planet like that tends to breed a special kind of person: tough +enough to stay alive and smart enough to make the best of it. When that +kind of person discovers he's being cheated of wealth he's risked his +life for, that kind of planet is ripe for revolution. + + +Lone Star Planet + +New Texas: its citizens figure that name about says it all. The Solar +League ambassador to the Lone Star Planet has the unenviable task of +convincing New Texans that a s'Srauff attack is imminent, and dangerous. +Unfortunately it's common knowledge that the s'Srauff are evolved from +canine ancestors--and not a Texan alive is about to be scared of a +talking dog! But unless he can get them to act, and fast, there won't be +a Texan alive, scared or otherwise! + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lone Star Planet +by Henry Beam Piper and John Joseph McGuire + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LONE STAR PLANET *** + +***** This file should be named 20121.txt or 20121.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/1/2/20121/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Malcolm Farmer, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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