By now I had the status of a regular guest—not that hospitality wouldn't have been splendid for any Rim visitor. By custom, any traveler was welcome at any station—but in my case I got a complete discourse on politics from Sam whenever I showed up.
When he invited me into his study after lunch, I figured it was politics time again, but he surprised me. He used the intercom to send for his wife, and he asked Erica to come in as well. While we were waiting for Ruth, he poured a drink for all of us.
Ruth Hendrix was smiling as she came in.
Sam rather formally invited us to sit down. I was beginning to wonder what was happening, but Erica was grinning, so I wasn't worried.
"Well," Sam said. "Sarge tells me that you are about to go choose a location for your own station."
I nodded. I'd never seen Sam so slow at getting to the point.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Yes, sir. He's pushing things a little, but—"
"Not pushing them at all. Now, I have had business dealings with Sarge Wechsung before. This is likely to cost me at least one arm and probably both legs. Before I go to that trouble, has anyone here an objection?"
Ye gods, I thought. I looked at Erica. She was shaking with repressed laughter, but trying to hide it from her father. Sam was trying not to notice.
"I think it's a splendid idea," Ruth Hendrix said. "And I know Erica does. Don't you, Ricky?"
Well, we got through it somehow. Nobody objected. We weren't engaged, not exactly, and wouldn't be until the negotiations between Sarge and Sam were finished and it was all announced; but as far as Erica and I were concerned, we were going to be married. Sam and Ruth even found an excuse to leave us alone for a few minutes.
The whole thing makes more sense than it probably seems to. On the Rim you can't just go off and set up housekeeping. Once in a while a Rim girl marries a town man, usually without her folks' approval, and if he's got a job she can move into town and that's that; but to open a new station requires a lot of equipment, and a lot more work than two people can do in a short time.
The parents have to help. If they've got to put up all that money, they're going to have a say in who gets it. And a new couple won't be independent, not really, for several years anyway, and if they can't make a go of it—not necessarily through their own fault, things can go wrong here despite all you can do—they've got to have a place to go. So it makes sense that the parents have to approve, and there's no point in the prospective couple getting too involved unless that approval is likely, and there's no point in all the negotiations and purchases and arrangements unless the couple approve of each other; thus the complicated formalities.
We didn't care, of course. I wasn't thinking about how it made sense. I was too damned happy to think about anything.
When Sam came back into his study he purposely made a lot of noise. "Sorry to break things up," he said. "But Garrett will have to be going. I do not like to see you travel without plenty of daylight. The dust is very thick today."
He was right. I looked around for my hat. We'd already loaded the germanium into Aunt Ellen.
"Erica, I believe you wanted to go into town," Sam said. "And there are errands you can do for me, as well. I no longer care to go there unless I must."
"Sure," she said.
"Excellent. I suggest you go to Windhome with Garrett, and take the agricultural co-op tractor into Hellastown in the morning. It comes by your place tomorrow, does it not?"
I had to think. Ellsworth had decreed that the co-op could only sell in Hellastown. We didn't have much business for the co-op any more. "Yes, sir.
"You will have to bring her back when she returns, but I doubt you will mind that."
Erica went to get her travel kit. It looked like this would be a splendid day, even if the dust was blowing up a bit thick.
We had a short delay after we were out of sight of Sam's place, but I didn't want to waste too much daylight. The dust was indeed thick, and although we had plenty of time, Sam was right: the more daylight you have ahead of you, the better off you are. Tractors do break down, and although Aunt Ellen never had, there was always a first time.
We talked about our new place, and laughed at the way Sam had acted, and wondered what we'd feel like when we had a daughter who wanted to get married. We babbled about the Project, and about Earth, and about how many kids we wanted, and what kind of floor plan we wanted when we started blasting out our home, and an hour and a half went by very quickly. Then I heard the voice on the radio. We had come into line-of-sight with Windhome, although we couldn't see it because of the dust.
"Garrett, this is Sarge. Do not answer. Garrett, Garrett, Garrett, this is Sarge. Do not answer."
"What the hell?" I said.
"Garrett, this is Sarge. Do not answer. Stop and listen carefully. Do not answer."
"There's something terribly wrong," Erica said.
"Garrett, if you can hear me, do exactly what I say. Punch the fourth channel button from the left, fourth from the left. Turn on the set and say you can hear. Say nothing else and turn it off quick. Keep the transmission as short as possible. Okay, if you hear me, go. Over!"
I hit the button and lifted the mike. "Sarge, I hear you. Over."
"Thank God, I've been calling for an hour. Garrett, Ellsworth sent the cops after me. They're trying to break the boycott. I'm holed up, but they've got me located. They may be listening to this. They'll have me in a minute. Don't come back here, they'll put you in the bucket. Look up our friends, and warn the Rim. They knocked out the photophone and our main antenna, so all I've got left is short-range. Warn 'em along the Rim. Do not answer me, they'll locate you if you do."
"We've got to do something," I said. Erica nodded. "Yes. The first thing is to alert the Rim. Sarge is right, we've got to get the word out.
Sarge's voice came through again. "Sorry it worked out this way, kid. I wanted to set you up better, but it looks like I won't be doing that. You've got other friends, though. They'll help. You're a good man, Garrett. Here they come."
There were loud sounds like explosions, then a whistling wind. "Blowout!" I said. I looked at Erica. She nodded. It had to be a blowout, and Sarge was in it.
"They've smashed their way in," she said.
"We've got to do something. I've got to see what's happening—"
"All right," she said. "But the first thing is to hide this tractor. If we drive up there, they'll have us too."
I thought about that. "Right. We can walk from here. It's not too far." I took Aunt Ellen off the road and out into the boulder fields. We found a hollow full of dust. I drove into it, and the wind whipped more dust around us. Pretty soon the tractor would be hidden. The tracks leading in from the road were already covered over.
I switched on the pumps. By the time we had put our helmets on the air from the cabin was stored in tanks.
"We won't be able to use the suit radios," Erica warned. "They'll hear us."
"Yeah." We got out, and I looked around carefully. It wouldn't do to hide the tractor so well we couldn't find it again. There was a big split rock about ten meters away, and I looked up at the stars to get a bearing from it to the tractor. We had about three hours of daylight left, maybe a little more, but not much. When night came we'd have to be inside, either in a tractor or in a shelter.
When we were sure we could find Aunt Ellen again, we started walking for Windhome. Erica was young and healthy, but she had trouble keeping up with me. That's one advantage to being born on Earth. I was used to weighing over twice as much as I did on Mars, and even with all the air tanks and other gear it wasn't hard going. I wished we had weapons, but we didn't, except for our knives and some tools in our belt kits. I led her up the side of the Chamberpot, a tattered rimwall that stands next to Windhome. Sarge called it the Devil's Pisspot, but the official mapmakers wouldn't use that. The Chamberpot's rim has cracks that lead to Windhome, and I was sure nobody knew about them.
It was tricky climbing the side of the hill, and if you run too hard, you use a lot of air. We scrambled up the steep sides of the crater to the top, then down into the bowl. There was a ledge just inside the rim. It dropped off sheer for a hundred meters on our right, and it wasn't very wide. Until I watched her two-step along a section not much wider than my foot, I worried about Erica. Then I worried about myself.
I couldn't talk to her because the cops might be listening. I wondered if they'd heard Sarge's message to me. If they had they'd be looking for us, but they wouldn't know in what direction I'd been coming. There's a lot of desolate area around Windhome. I decided we were safe for the moment. At the end of the ledge there was a crack through the rimwall. It was just wide enough to get through. Once inside it we were in deep shadow, but even through the dust we could see stars out above us like night. Then we were looking down on Windhome.
The station was in ruins. All the domes were cracked open, and the air-lock doors had been blown off their hinges.
There were more explosions as we stood watching. We couldn't hear them, of course, but we could see dust blow out of openings, and one of the tunnels collapsed. I stood in a boiling rage, trying to decide what to do. Mostly I wanted to kill people. A lot of them.
A group filed out of the main entrance. I had brought the binoculars from the tractor, and I could see them clearly: Federation Marines, carrying rifles. Seven of them had slugthrowers, and another had a big powerpack and laser rifle. After a short interval two more came out. One of them was Sarge. I could tell from his walk. They had him in handcuffs, but he was alive!
I grabbed Erica and pointed. She nodded. Then she held up her belt radio and pointed to the frequency dial. It took me a moment to catch on—I thought she wanted to talk, which was stupid of me. She knew better. When I tuned the receiver to the frequency she showed me, I heard voices.
"Where is he, Wechsung?"
"Go to hell."
"Look, we know your tractor is missing. Where did he go?"
"Get dorked."
One of the men hit Sarge with his rifle butt. I heard Sarge grunt, then he said, "Bielenson, you were a slimy bastard when I was in the service. You haven't changed."
"Maybe not. Take a good look, Wechsung. You men, get a lot of photos of this place. We'll show these farmers what happens to rebels. They'll straighten up."
I put my helmet against Erica's. When they touched we could talk without radios. "We've got to do something!"
"Hold on, my muscular friend," she said. "What will happen if you go charging down there?"
"Yeah." They had rifles and we had knives. There were at least ten of them, probably more in their tractors, and two of us. Three if we counted Sarge, but he was handcuffed.
"Gary, I know how you feel, but the best thing we can do is get back and tell Dad. And you've got your orders, mister. Sarge told you to alert the Rim."
She was right, but I didn't like it. I stood there trembling with helpless rage. They started boarding the three tractors. Two of them pushed Sarge into the small one and got in after him. "We could follow them," I said.
"On foot? Don't be an idiot."
"Varadd. Rogers," the radio said. "Get inside and stay out of sight. When that kid shows up, grab him."
"Sir. How long will we be here, major?"
"I'm leaving you air for two days. We'll be back for you before sundown tomorrow. Just now we've got other work to do."
"Sir." The marine sounded unhappy about being left there.
"Load up and move out."
There was a babble of voices, and the rest of them got into the tractors. They started up, the two big tractors turning eastward toward Hendrix station. The small one with Sarge and two marines turned west onto the Hellastown road.
"Come on," Erica said. She pulled away from me and ran back through the crack. For a moment I didn't move. I wanted to see what happened to Sarge, but she was right; we couldn't follow tractors on foot. By running away from me she kept me from doing something stupid. I ran after her.
We dashed along the ledge inside Pisspot's Rim. She was much faster than I on that narrow ledge, and she got a long way ahead. Then she was over the top. I caught up to her on the way down. Going down was easy—a twenty-foot drop was nothing. I had to be careful, though, because for the same speed you've got the same momentum on Mars as on Earth, you just weigh less. Still, I took that slope like it was a giant staircase. There was dust on the road below, and the faint marks of tractors.
We crossed the road and ran to Aunt Ellen. When we got inside, I brought the pressure up so we could talk.
"They're going to Ice Hill," she said. "They'll arrest my father! And Mom, too, maybe everyone there—"
"If they mean to blow up Ice Hill the way they did Windhome, they'll have to take everybody."
"We've got to warn them!"
"Yeah." I thought about the tracks I'd seen on the road. "But we've only got line-of-sight communications and they're ahead of us on the road. Just how do we warn them?"