Free One and Wonder by Evan Filipek

through the silent rooms, we found nobody.
    The little radiophone, oddly, was also gone. At midnight, Hudd called again. At the news of Doyle's apparent desertion, he muttered forebodingly:
    “It's something pretty sinister, that takes so true a man.” The interstellar cruiser landed, just at dawn. The thunder of it woke me out of a nodding doze. Moving groggily to a port, I saw a glare that burned all color out of the valley, so that everything was black or blinding white. I had to cover my smarting eyes. The wind rocked the life-craft on its stabilizers, and the earth shuddered.
    When the thunder ceased and that cruel light was gone, I saw the cruiser standing two miles down the valley. Dark smoke billowed up about the base of it from the green woods burning. Its tall peak, towering out of the night in the valley, was already incandescent with sunlight.
    Immensely high, the great flat turrets swung with ominous deliberation. The huge bright tubes of rifles and launchers lifted out of their housings, implacably purposeful. Hudd called again, looking as massively indomitable as his flagship.
    “Have you met the inhabitants, Mr. Lord?”
    “Not yet, Mr. Hudd.” Relieved by the great ship’s coming, Lord had his swagger back.
    “Then you soon will,” Hudd told him. “Our lookout reports a flying vehicle, approaching you now. Make contact, and report immediately.”
    We all turned to the ports, in time to see the red glint of sunlight on the rotor of a small helicopter. It landed among the young apple trees. Three people got out. One of them began waving a bit of white cloth. With a shock of dismay, I recognized Jim Cameron.
    VIII
    The three walked slowly down toward us across the young orchard. The other two paused by the dam, one of them bending to look at the bodies under the blanket. Cameron came on halfway to us, before he stopped and stood waiting.
    Watching through a port in the signal room, Lord nervously wet his lips. Beneath a puzzled unease, his beady eyes had a glare of yellow elation. He sent me out to find what Cameron wanted.
    Grinning with pleasure to see me, Cameron put down the stick with his handkerchief tied to it. Fatigue had drawn his stubbled face and smudged blue shadows under his eyes.
    “Jim, you shouldn't have come back.” I pitched my voice too low for Lord's gunmen, covering us from the valve. “Because you made a fool of Lord, when you got away. He'll never forgive that. He's got Hudd's permission to liquidate you.”
    He grinned wearily, glancing at the two behind him.
    “You can tell Mr. Lord that he's in no position to liquidate anybody. On the contrary—these neighbors of the Hawkins couple have come to arraign him and his guard for the murder.”
    I must have gasped with astonishment.
    “I'm afraid Lord will be unreasonable.” He frowned, regretfully. “I came along to try to prevent any needless destruction. There's not much use for Lord to resist, and no need for others to be killed. Better tell him that.”
    Back aboard the life-craft, I told Lord what the strangers wanted. His pale, peering eyes rounded with wonderment, then narrowed to hard yellow slits. He glared malevolently out at Cameron.
    “I suppose that damned feather merchant is the chief witness? Well, I'll fix the lot of them!” He shouted up the ladder-well to the astrogator, now acting as signal officer, “Get me Mr. Hudd!”
    I followed him into the narrow signal room.
    “It's your pet civilian,” he shouted bitterly when Hudd's face appearedhuge and interrogative on the screen. “And a couple of yokels with some nonsense about arresting me for murder.”
    “So?” Thoughtfully Hudd rubbed his blue, multiple chin. “I want to talk to them. Offer them all three safe-conduct to come aboard. Tell them I'll discuss compensation for the killing. You can bring them on the life-craft, Mr. Lord.”
    The negotiations which ensued were somewhat involved. I went back and forth, between Lord and Cameron. Cameron