Chapter Fourteen
Barrent had much to think about, but the more he thought, the more hebecame confused. If Illiardi had killed Therkaler, why had Barrent beendeported to Omega? If an honest mistake had been made, why hadn't hebeen released when the true murderer was discovered? Why had someone onEarth accused him of a crime he hadn't committed? And why had a falsememory of that crime been superimposed on his mind just beneath theconscious level?
Barrent had no answers for his questions. But he knew that he had neverfelt like a murderer. Now he had proof, of sorts, that he wasn't amurderer.
The sensation of innocence changed everything for him. He had lesstolerance for Omegan ways, and no interest at all in conforming to acriminal mode of life. The only thing he wanted was to escape from Omegaand return to his rightful heritage on Earth.
But that was impossible. Day and night, the guardships circled overhead.Even if there had been some way of evading them, escape would stillhave been impossible. Omegan technology had progressed only as far asthe internal combustion engine; the only starships were commanded byEarth forces.
Barrent continued to work in the Antidote Shop, but his lack of publicspirit was growing apparent. He ignored invitations from the Dream Shop,and never attended any of the popular public executions. When rovingmobs were formed to have a little fun in the Mutant Quarter, Barrentusually pleaded a headache. He never joined the Landing Day Hunts, andhe was rude to an accredited salesman from the Torture of the MonthClub. Not even visits from Uncle Ingemar could make him change hisantireligious ways.
He knew he was asking for trouble. He expected trouble, and theknowledge was strangely exhilarating. After all, there was nothing wrongin breaking the law on Omega--as long as you could get away with it.
* * * * *
Within a month, he had a chance to test his decision. Walking to hisshop one day, a man shoved against him in a crowd. Barrent moved away,and the man grabbed him by a shoulder and pulled him around.
"Who do you think you're pushing?" the man asked. He was short andstocky. His clothes indicated Privileged Citizen's rank. Five silverstars on his gunbelt showed his number of authorized kills.
"I didn't push you," Barrent said.
"You lie, you _mutant-lover_."
The crowd became silent when they heard the deadly insult. Barrentbacked away, waiting. The man went for his sidearm in a quick, artisticdraw. But Barrent's needlebeam was out a full half-second before theman's weapon had cleared his holster.
He drilled the man neatly between the eyes; then, sensing movementbehind him, he swung around.
Two Privileged Citizens were drawing heat guns. Barrent fired, aimingautomatically, dodging behind the protection of a shop front. The mencrumpled. The wooden front buckled under the impact of a projectileweapon and splinters slashed his hand. Barrent saw a fourth man firingat him from an alley. He brought the man down with two shots.
And that was that. In the space of a few seconds, he had killed fourmen.
Although he didn't think of himself as having a murderer's mentality,Barrent was pleased and elated. He had fired only in self-defense. Hehad given the status-seekers something to think about; they wouldn't beso quick to gun for him next time. Quite possibly they would concentrateon easier targets and leave him alone.
When he returned to his shop, he found Joe waiting for him. The littlecredit thief had a sour look on his face. He said, "I saw your fancygun-work today. Very pretty."
"Thank you," Barrent said.
"Do you think that sort of thing will help you? Do you think you canjust go on breaking the law?"
"I'm getting away with it," Barrent said.
"Sure. But how long do you think you can keep it up?"
"As long as I have to."
"Not a chance," Joe said. "_Nobody_ keeps on breaking the law andgetting away with it. Only suckers believe that."
"They'd better send some good men after me," Barrent said, reloading hisneedlebeam.
"That's not how it'll happen," Joe said. "Believe me, Will, there's nocounting the ways they have of getting you. Once the law decides tomove, there'll be nothing you can do to stop it. And don't expect anyhelp from that girl friend of yours, either."
"Do you know her?" Barrent asked.
"I know everybody," Joe said moodily. "I've got friends in thegovernment. I know that people have had about enough of you. Listen tome, Will. Do you want to end up dead?"
Barrent shook his head. "Joe, can you visit Moera? Do you know how toreach her?"
"Maybe," Joe said. "What for?"
"I want you to tell her something," Barrent said. "I want you to tellher that I didn't commit the murder I was accused of on Earth."
Joe stared at him. "Are you out of your mind?"
"No. I found the man who actually did it. He's a Second Class Residentnamed Illiardi."
"Why spread it around?" Joe asked. "No sense in losing credit for thekill."
"I didn't murder the man," Barrent said. "I want you to tell Moera. Willyou?"
"I'll tell her," Joe said. "If I can locate her. Look, will you rememberwhat I've said? Maybe you still have time to do something about it. Goto Black Mass or something. It might help."
"Maybe I'll do that," Barrent said. "You'll be sure to tell her?"
"I'll tell her," Joe said. He left the Antidote Shop shaking his headsadly.