Chapter XVII
SECURITY PAYOFF
It was three days before Bruce Gordon made up his mind to hunt upSecurity; another four days passed after they had sent him back to waituntil they received orders from Headquarters for him. There was a mancoming from Earth on a second ship who would see him. They gave him achauffeur back to the Chicken Coop, and politely indicated that it wouldbe better if he stayed within reach.
The dome had been down a full week when he watched the last ofRandolph's equipment packed onto a truck and hauled away. The littlepublisher was back at the _Crusader_ again. Rusty was busy opening hisbar, and the others were all busy. Only Gordon and Sheila were left.
He heard her coming down the old stairs, and ducked out through theprivate exit, snapping his helmet in place as he went through the seal.She must have sensed his desire to be left alone, since she made noattempt to follow. She'd asked no questions and hadn't even tried toconvince him that he'd be sent back to Earth now.
He muttered to himself as he headed over the rubble toward thepreviously domed section.
Out at the spaceport, ships were dropping down from Deimos with thesupplies that had been held up so long, and a long line of trucks wentsnaking by. Credit had been established again, and the businesses wereopen.
For the time being, the hoods and punks were having a tough time of it,with working papers demanded as constant identification. And while itlasted, at least, Marsport was beginning to have its face lifted. Wreckswere being broken up, with salvageable material used for newer homes.Gordon came to a row of temporary bubbles, individual dwellings builtlike the dome, but opaque for privacy.
As Gordon drew closer to the old foundation of the dome, the feelingaround began to clarify into something halfway between what he had seenon the real frontier and what he had known as a kid in Earth's slums.
They had been lucky. The dome had exploded outwards, with only bits ofit falling back; and the buildings had come through the outwardexplosion of the pressure with little damage. Gordon grinned wryly.Schulberg's volunteers were official, now. Izzy was acting as chief ofpolice, Schulberg was head of the reconstruction corps, and Mother Coreywas temporary Mayor of all Marsport. The old charter for Marsport fromNorth America was dead, and the whole city was now under Securitycharter, like the rest of the planet. But the dozen Security men hadleft most of the control in the Mother's hands, and the old man was upto his fat jowls in business.
Gordon moved automatically toward the Seventh Ward. Fats' Place wasstill open, though the crooked tables had been removed. Gordon droppedto a stool, slipping off his helmet. He reached automatically for theglass of ether-needled beer. This time, it even tasted good to him.
"On the house, copper," Fats' voice said. The man dropped to anotherstool, rolling dice casually between his thumbs. "And bring out a steak,there! You look as if you could stand it--and Fats don't forget oldfriends!"
"Friends and other things," Gordon said, remembering his first visithere. "Maybe you should have got me that night, Fats."
The other shrugged. "That's Mars." He rolled the dice out, then pickedthem up again. "Guess I'll have to stick to selling meals, mostly--for awhile, at least. Somebody told me you'd joined Security and got bangedup trying to keep Trench from blowing up the dome. Thought you'd be inthe chips!"
"That's Mars," Gordon echoed the other's comment. "Why don't you pulloff the planet, Fats? You could go back to Earth, I'd guess."
The other nodded. "Yeah. I went back, about ten years ago. Spent fourweeks down there. I dunno. Guess a man gets used to anything ... Hell,maybe I can hire some bums to sit around and whoop it up when the shipscome in, and bill this as a real old Martian den of sin! Get a barkerout at the port, run special busses, charge the suckers a mint for acheap thrill."
Gordon grinned wryly; Fats would probably make more than ever.
He finished the meal, accepted a pack of the Earth cigarettes that soldat a luxury price here, and went out into the thin air of Mars. It wasalmost good to get out into the filth of the slums, and be heading backto the still-standing monument of the old Chicken Coop. He headed forthe private entrance out of habit, and then shrugged as he realized itwas a needless precaution now. He moved up the front steps and throughthe battered seal.
Then he stopped. Security had finally gotten around to him, it seemed.Inside the hallway, the Security man who'd first sent him to Mars waswaiting.
There was a grin on the other's face. "Hello, Gordon. Finally got ourorders for you. It's Mercury!"
Bruce Gordon nodded slowly. "All right. I suppose you know I ruined thedome, was supposed to have killed Murdoch, pretended I was a Securityagent..."
"You _were_ one," the man said. He grinned again. "We know aboutMurdoch, and we know where Trench is--but he's a good citizen now, so hecan stay there. We're not throwing the book at you, Bruce. Damn it, wesent you here to get results, and you got them. We sent twenty othersthe same way--and they failed. You were a bit drastic--that I have toadmit--but we're one step closer to keeping nationalism off the planets,and that's all we care about."
"I wonder if it's worth it," Gordon said slowly.
The other shook his head. "We can't know in our lifetime. All we can dois to hope. We'll probably get this Mother Corey and Isaacs electedproperly; and for a while, things will improve. But there'll be pushersas long as weak men turn to drugs, and graft as long as voters allow thething to get out of their hands. Let's say you've shifted some of themisery around a bit, and given them a chance to do better. It's up tothem to take it or lose it."
"So I get sent to Mercury?"
"You can't stay here. They'll find out too much eventually." He paused,estimating Gordon. "You _can_ go back to Earth, Bruce, but you won'tlike it now. You're a fighter. And there's hell brewing onMercury--worse than here. We've got permission to send you there, ifyou'll go. With a yellow ticket, again--but without any razzle-dazzlethis time. The only thing you'll get out of it is a chance to fight fora better chance for others some day--and a promise that there'll bemore, until you get old enough to sit at a desk on Earth and fightagainst every bickering nation there to keep the planets clean. There'sa rocket waiting to transship you to the Moon on the way to Mercuryright now."
Gordon sighed. "All right. But I wish you'd tell my wife sometimethat--well, that I didn't just run out on her. She's had bad luck withmen."
"She already knows," the Security man said. "I've been waiting for youquite a while, you know. And I've paid her the pay we owe you from thetime you began using your badge. She's out shopping!"
The car pulled up to the waiting rocket, and the Security man helped himup the steps with a perfunctory wish for good luck. Then Bruce Gordonstopped as great arms surrounded him.
Mother Corey was immaculate, though not much prettier. But his old eyeswere glinting. "Did you think we'd let you go without seeing you off,cobber?" he asked. "And after I took a _bath_ to celebrate? I--I--Oh,drat it, I'm getting old. Izzy, you tell him."
He grabbed Gordon's hand and waddled down the landing plank. Izzy shookhis head.
"I can't say it, either, gov'nor--but some day, I'm going to have one ofthose badges myself. Like I always said, honesty sure pays, even if itkills you. Here!"
He followed Mother Corey, leaving behind his favorite knife and abrand-new deck of reader cards, marked exactly as the ones Gordon hadfirst used.
Gordon dropped into his seat, while the sounds outside indicatedtake-off time. He had less than a hundred credits, a knife, a deck ofphony cards, and a yellow ticket. Mars was leaving him what he'dbrought....
She dropped into the seat very quietly, but her blouse touched his arm.In her hand was a punched ticket with the orange of Mars on top and theblack of Mercury on the bottom.
"Hello, Bruce," Sheila said softly. "I've been shopping and I spent themoney the man gave me. This is all I have left. Do you think it's worthit? Or should I take it back?"
He turned it over in his hands slowly, and the smile came back to hisface
gradually.
"You got a bargain, Cuddles," he said. "A lot better than the mealticket you bought. Let's keep it."
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