Free Alan E. Nourse by Trouble on Titan

boys
were out of the mines this afternoon."
    Torm nodded angrily. "Send Martz and Darly to get Cortell down to the
convention room, and pronto. Legal order. We'll be
down there in a few minutes, and we want him there. And if he doesn't want to
come, break his legs and then bring him."
    Miller's
eyes were worried. "There'll be trouble, Anson. Unless you and the Colonel
got farther than I think you did—"
    "There'll
be trouble, all right. But there isn't much we can do about it now. This thing
has got to stop." He turned to find the short, balding figure of the
colony's doctor kneeling beside David.
    "What about it,
Doc?"
    The
doctor examined the boy's head carefully. "Better get X-rays. I wouldn't
worry, but he'll be down at the infirmary for a couple of days. Check with me
later."
    Anson
nodded, and turned to Tuck and the Colonel. Together, they started across the
clearing into the long, low building that faced them.
    It was a barracks, on either side of the
large common room—the quarters of the former military contingent, now used as
a storehouse. But in the rear were stone steps, leading down
in a long spiral. Anson Torm snapped on
lights, his face still tense with anger, and they started down. A number of the
colonists were in the common room reading, and a few waved at Anson as they
passed through—but there were no smiles when they saw Torm's company. At the bottom of the stairs they found themselves in a huge
underground excavation, filled with rude seats, with a desk and chair at the
front, and a massive wall of files. Anson Torm nodded
Tuck and the Colonel into seats, then seated himself at the table, and waited,
drumming his hand on the table top in impatient anger. The hall was dark, and
very silent. There was room here to seat every one of the colonists, man,
woman, and child, but now the room was empty. Yet, if he listened closely, Tuck
could hear more clearly the strange, rumbling noise he had heard up above,
coming from far underground —a persistent sound that never dropped nor rose,
and almost became a part of the background of the place. Probably pumps, Tuck
reasoned—or maybe mining machinery. Whatever it was, it only added to the gloom
of the place. Tuck shifted uneasily, wishing the stillness were not so complete.
    Finally
Colonel Benedict broke the silence. He turned to Anson Torm questioningly. "What do you propose to do with this Cortell person when he gets here?"
    Torm turned his angry eyes to the Earthman. "I don't know," he said slowly.
    "You mean you'd let him get away with
something like this?" The Colonel's eyes were wide. "Like what?"
    "Like an ambush. Like
attempted murder." The Colonel's voice was tense.
    Torm stared at him tiredly. "I may have no
choice. I am the elected leader of this colony—nothing more. I have the
position of judiciary—the power to select juries and the power to make final
judgments in judicial matters of law. And since I've held this position, I've
studied Earth law and colony law for a long, long time." The big man
shrugged his shoulders apologetically. "Unfortunately, in all this time
and study, I've not yet found any justification for condemning a man with no
evidence against him."
    "But
everyone here seems to know that it was Cortell who
planted the trap—or at least Cortell's men—"
    "This may very well be
true. But it's not proof."
    The
Colonel drummed the table top impatiently. "And yet, from a very selfish
viewpoint, that was a deliberate attempt on my life—nothing more nor less. I'm here with a job to do—and I intend to see it done, if I have
to take Cortell , and you, and everyone else involved
in the little plot and place them under Earth arrest for high treason."
    Torm looked at the Colonel for a long moment,
studying his face, a look of puzzlement in the colony leader's eyes. "You
forget one thing," he said finally. "It was an attempt on my life, too. And it nearly killed my son."
    "But why on your life?"
    Anson Torm leaned
forward, his eyes