He said, "I don't want Hennes catching me. We've had-words."
"What about Makian? He's on our side, isn't he?"
"I don't know. He stands to be ruined by day after tomorrow. I don't think he has enough spine left to stand up to the fellow. Look, I'd better go. If you think of anything, anything at all, get it to me somehow, will you?"
He held out a hand. David took it briefly, and then Benson was gone.
David sat up in bed. His own uneasiness had grown since he had awakened. His clothes were thrown over a chair at the other end of the room. His boots stood upright by the side of the bed. He had not dared inspect them in Benson's presence; had scarcely dared look at them.
Perhaps, he thought pessimistically, they had not tampered with them. A farmboy's hip boots are inviolate. Stealing from a farmboy's hip boots, next to stealing his sand-car in the open desert, was the unforgivable crime. Even in death, a farmboy's boots were buried with him, with the contents unremoved.
David groped inside the inner pocket of each boot in turn, and his fingers met nothingness. There had been a handkerchief in one, a few odd coins in the other. Undoubtedly they had gone through his clothing; he had expected that. But apparently they had not drawn the line at his boots. He held his breath as his arm dived into the recesses of one boot. The soft leather reached to his armpit and crumpled down as Ms fingers stretched out to the toes. A surge of pure gladness filled him as he felt the soft gauze-like material of the Martian mask.
He had hidden it there on general principles before the bath, but he had not anticipated the Soporite. It was luck, purely, that they had not searched the toes of his boots. He would have to be more careful henceforward.
He put the mask into a boot pocket and clipped it shut. He picked up the boots; they had been polished while he slept, which was good of someone, and showed the almost instinctive respect which the farm-boy had for boots, anyone's boots.
His clothes had been put through the Refresher Spray as well. The shining plastic fibers of which they were composed had a brand-new smell about them. The pockets were all empty, of course, but underneath the chair all the contents were in a careless heap. He sorted them out. Nothing seemed to be missing. Even the handkerchief and coins from his boot pockets were there.
He put on underclothes and socks, the one-piece overall, and then the boots. He was buckling his belt when a brown-bearded farmboy stepped in.
David looked up. He said coldly, "What do you want, Zukis?"
The farmboy said, "Where do you think you're going, Earthie?" His little eyes were glaring viciously, and to David the other's expression was much the same as it had been the first day he had laid eyes on him. David could recall Hennes's sand-car outside the Farm Employment Office, himself just settling into the seat, and the bearded angry face glowering at him, while a weapon fired before he could move to defend himself.
"Nowhere," said David, "that I need ask your permission."
"That so? You're wrong, mister, because you're staying right here. Hennes's orders." Zukis blocked the door with his body. Two blasters were conspicuously displayed at either side of his drooping belt.
Zukis waited. Then, his greasy beard splitting in two as he smiled yellowly, he said, "Think maybe you've changed your mind, Earthie?"
"Maybe," said David. He added, "Someone got in to see me just now. How come? Weren't you watching?"
"Shut up," snarled Zukis.
"Or were you paid off to look the other way for a while? Hennes might not like that."
Zukis spat, missing David's boots by half an inch.
David said, "You want to toss out your blasters and try that again?"
Zukis said, "Just watch out if you want any feeding, Earthie."
He closed and locked the door behind him as he left. A few minutes passed and there was the sound of clattering metal against it as it opened again. Zukis carried a tray. There was the yellow of squash on it and the green of something leafy.
"Vegetable salad," said Zukis. "Good enough for you."
A blackened thumb showed over one end of the tray. The other end balanced upon the back of his wrist so that the farmboy's hand was not visible.
David straightened, leaping to one side, bending his legs under him and bringing them down upon the mattress of the bed. Zukis, caught by surprise, turned in alarm, but David, using the springs of the mattress as extra leverage, launched into the air.
He collided heavily with the farmboy, brought down one hand flatly on the tray, ripping it out of the other's grasp and hurling it to the ground while twining his other hand in the farmboy's beard.
Zukis dropped, yelling hoarsely. David's booted foot came down on the farmboy's hand, the one that had been hidden under the tray. The other's yell be came an agonized scream as the smashed fingers flew open, releasing the cocked blaster they had been holding.
David's hand whipped away from the beard and caught the other's unharmed wrist as it groped for the second blaster. He brought it up roughly, across the prone chest, under the head and out again. He pulled.
"Quiet," he said, "or I'll tear your arm loose from its socket."
Zukis subsided, his eyes rolling, his breath puffing out wetly. He said, "What are you after?"
"Why were you hiding the blaster under the tray?"
"I had to protect myself, didn't I? In case you jumped me while my hands were full of tray?"
"Then why didn't you send someone else with the tray and cover him?"
"I didn't think of that," whined Zukis.
David tightened pressure a bit and Zukis's mouth twisted in agony. "Suppose you tell the truth, Zukis."
"I-I was going to kill you."
"And what would you have told Makian?" '
"You were-trying to escape."
"Was that your own idea?"
"No. It was Hennes's. Get Hennes. I'm just following orders."
David released him. He picked up one blaster and flicked the other out of its holster. "Get up."
Zukis rolled over on one side. He groaned as he tried to lift his weight on a mashed right hand and nearly torn left shoulder.
"What are you going to do? You wouldn't shoot an unarmed man, would you?"
"Wouldn't you?" asked David.
A new voice broke in. "Drop those guns, Williams," It said crisply.
David moved Ms head quickly. Hennes was in the doorway, blaster leveled. Behind him was Makian, face gray and etched with lines. Hennes's eyes showed his intentions plainly enough and his blaster was ready.
David dropped the blasters he had just torn from Zukis.
"Kick them over," said Hermes.
David did so.
"Now. What happened?"
David said, "You know what happened. Zukis tried a little assassination at your orders and I didn't sit still and take it."
Zukis was gabbling. "No, sir, Mr. Hennes. No, sir. It was no such thing. I was bringing in his lunch when he jumped me. My hands were full of tray; I had no chance to defend myself."
"Shut up," said Hennes contemptuously. "We'll have a talk about that later. Get out of here and be back with a couple of pinions in less than no time."
Zukis scrambled out.
Makian said mildly, "Why the pinions, Hennes?"
"Because this man is a dangerous impostor, Mr. Makian. You remember I brought him in because he seemed to know something about the food poisoning."
"Yes. Yes, of course."
"He told us a story about a younger sister being poisoned by Martian jam, remember? I checked on that. There haven't been too many deaths by poisoning that have reached the authorities the way this man claimed his sister's death had. Less than two hundred and fifty, in fact. It was easy to check them all and I had that done. None on record involved a twelve-year-old girl, with a brother of Williams' age, who died over a jar of jam."
Makian was startled. "How long have you known this, Hennes?"
"Almost since he came here. But I let it go. I wanted to see what he was after. I set Griswold to watching him.... ''
"To trying to kill me, you mean," interrupted David.
"Yes, you would say that, considering that you killed him because he was fool enough to let you suspect him." He turned back to Makian. "Then he managed to wiggle himself in with that soft-headed sap, Benson, where he could keep close check on our progress in investigating the poisoning. Then, as the last straw, he slipped out of the dome three nights ago for a reason he won't explain. You want to know why? He was reporting to the men who hired him-the ones who are behind all this. It's more than just a coincidence that the ultimatum came while he was gone."
"And where were you?" demanded David suddenly. "Did you stop keeping tabs on me after Griswold died? If you knew I was gone on the kind of deal you suspected, why wasn't a party sent out after me?"
Makian looked puzzled, and began, "Well.... "
But David interrupted. "Let me finish, Mr. Makian. I think that maybe Hennes wasn't in the dome the night I left and even the day and night after I left. Where were you, Hennes?"
Hennes stepped forward, Ms mouth twisting. David's cupped hand was near his face. He did not believe Hennes would shoot, but he was ready to use the shield-mask if he had to.
Makian placed a nervous hand on Hennes's shoulder. "I suggest we leave him for the Council."
David said quickly, "What is this about the Council?"
"None of your business," snarled Hennes.
Zukis was back with the pinions. They were flexible plastic rods that could be bent in any way and then frozen in position. They were infinitely stronger than ropes or even metal handcuffs.
"Hold out your hands," ordered Hennes.
David did so without a word. The pinion was wrapped twice about his wrists. Zukis, leering, drew them savagely tight then drew out the pin, which action resulted in an automatic molecular rearrangement that hardened the plastic. The energy developed in that rearrangement made the plastic warm to the touch. Another pinion went about David's ankles.
David sat quietly down upon the bed. In one hand he still had the shield-mask. Makian's remark about the Council was proof enough to David that he would not remain pinioned long. Meanwhile he was content to allow matters to develop further.
He said again, "What's this about the Council?"
But he need not have asked. There was a yell from outside, and a catapulting figure hurled itself through the door with the cry of, "Where's Williams?"
It was Bigman himself, as large as life, which wasn't very large. He was paying no attention to anything but David's seated figure. He was speaking rapidly and breathlessly. "I didn't hear you were through a dust storm till I landed inside the dome. Sizzling Ceres, you must have been fried. How did you get through it? I.... I.... "
He noticed David's position for the first time, and turned furiously. "Who in Space has the boy tied up like this?"
Hennes had caught his breath by now. One of his hands shot out and caught Bigman's overall collar in a brutal grip that lifted his slight body "off the floor.
"I told you what would happen, slug, if I caught you here again."
Bigman yelled, "Let go, you pulp-mouth jerk! I've got a right in here. I give you a second and a half to let me go or you'll answer to the Council of Science."
Makian said, "For Mars' sake, Hennes, let him go."
Hennes let Mm drop. "Get out of here."
"Not on your life. I'm an accredited employee of the Council. I came here with Dr. Silvers. Ask him."
He nodded at the tall, thin man just outside the door. His name suited him. His hair was silver-white and he had a mustache of the same shade.
"If you'll pardon me," said Dr. Silvers, "I would like to take charge of matters. The government at International City on Earth has declared a state of System Emergency and all the farms will be under the control of the Council of Science henceforward. I have been assigned to take over the Makian Farms."
"I expected something like this," muttered Makian unhappily.
"Remove this man's pinions," ordered Dr. Silvers.
Hennes said, "He's dangerous."
"I will take full responsibility."
Bigman jumped and clicked his heels. "On your way, Hennes."
Hennes paled in anger, but no words came.
Three hours had passed when Dr. Silvers met Makian and Hennes again in Makian's private quarters.
He said, "I'll want to go over all the production records of this farm for the last six months. I will have to see your Dr. Benson with regard to whatever advances he has made in connection with solving this food-poisoning problem. We have six weeks to break this matter. No more."
Six weeks," exploded Hennes. "You mean one day."
"No, sir. If we haven't the answer by the time the ultimatum expires, all exports of food from Mars will be stopped. We will not give in while a single chance remains."
"By Space," said Hennes. "Earth will starve."
"Not for six weeks," said Dr. Silvers. "Food supplies will last that long, with rationing."
"There'll be panic and rioting," said Hennes.
"True," said Dr. Silvers grimly. "It will be most unpleasant."
"You'll ruin the farm syndicates," groaned Makian.
"It will be ruined anyway. Now, I intend to see Dr. Benson this evening. We will have a four-way conference tomorrow at noon. Tomorrow midnight, if nothing breaks anywhere on Mars or at the Moon's Central Laboratories, the embargo goes into effect and arrangements will be made for an all-Mars conference of the various syndicate members."
"Why?" asked Hennes
"Because," said Dr. Silvers, "there is reason to think that whoever is behind this mad crime must be connected with the farms closely. They know too much about the farms for any other conclusion to be arrived at."
"What about Williams?"
"I've questioned him. He sticks to his story, which is, I'll admit, queer enough. I've sent him to the city, where he'll be questioned further; under hypnosis, if necessary."
The door signal flashed.
Dr. Silvers said, "Open the door, Mr. Makian."
Makian did so, as though he were not owner of one of the largest farms on Mars and, by virtue of that fact, one of the richest and most powerful men in the Solar System.
Bigman stepped in. He looked at Hermes challeng-ingly. He said, "Williams is on a sand-car heading back for the city under guard."
"Good," said Dr. Silvers, his thin lips set tightly.
A mile outside the farm dome the sand-car stopped. David Starr, nosepiece in place, stepped out. He waved to the driver, who leaned out and said, "Remember! Lock 7! We'll have one of our men there to let you in."
David smiled and nodded. He watched the sand-car continue its trip toward the city and then turned back on foot to the farm dome.
The men of the Council co-operated, of course. They had helped him in his desire to leave openly and to return secretly, but none of them, not even Dr. Silvers, knew the purpose of his request.
He had the pieces to the puzzle, but he still needed the proof.
