A leader…is one of the things that distinguishes a mob from a people. He maintains the level of individuals. Too few individuals and a people reverts to a mob.
Stilgar
One look at the expressions on the faces around the table and Haworth knew he was wasting his time. The members of the council were disposed toward Jek in the first place, not only because he was the current Metep, but because they considered him one of their own. Haworth had always been an outsider. They were as frightened and confused as Jek, and he had their ear. So the Council of Five-sans Daro Haworth-was squarely behind Metep VII. He considered turning at the doorway and leaving them to approve Metep's proposal blindly, but forced himself to enter. He had to try. He had spent too many years clawing his way up to his present position to let everything go without a fight.
“Now that we're all here,” Metep said as soon as Haworth had crossed the threshold, “the question will be brought to a vote.” He wasn't even going to wait until Haworth was seated.
“Isn't there going to be any discussion?”
“We have discussed it,” Metep said, “and we've decided, all of us, that a speedy public trial is the only sensible course. Documents are at this moment being prepared to show incontrovertible proof of Robin Hood's link with Earth. We'll show that Earth hired him and financed him, and even show that it was his theft of millions upon millions of Imperial marks that sparked the whole inflation spiral. And to demonstrate to the people that I am still their leader-a strong leader-I will personally conduct the trial.”
Haworth sat down before answering. “Did it ever occur to any of you that this may be exactly what he wants you to do?”
Over rumbling comments of “Ridiculous!” and “Absurd!” Metep said, “No man in his right mind would turn himself over to us for trial. And I think you'll have to admit that this Robin Hood fellow-LaNague, isn't it? — is hardly insane. Nor is he stupid.”
“Nor is he Robin Hood.” The chatter stopped. Haworth had their attention now.
“He admits to it!”
Haworth smiled. “Very welclass="underline" I'll admit to it, too, But that doesn't mean I'm Robin Hood. And one of Robin Hood's so-called Merry Men could have volunteered to stand in for him. Remember, we don't have a single physical characteristic by which to identify Robin Hood. I'm willing to bet this man Peter LaNague is a fraud. I'm willing to bet he's been planted here just to make fools of us, to make us convict him and sentence him in public; and then he'll come up with evidence to prove that he wasn't even on Throne when the raids occurred. Keep in mind that there's no verifiable identity for the prisoner. We can't even prove he's someone called Peter LaNague, let alone Robin Hood!”
He watched their faces as they considered his words. He had been speaking calmly, softly, hiding his inner tension. He didn't believe a word of what he had just said, but he knew he had to stop the public trial and was throwing out every suspicious thought that popped into his head, anything that would muddy the water and keep the council members confused. He personally believed the man who called himself LaNague to be Robin Hood, and for that reason wanted him kept out of the public eye.
“But we need him to be Robin Hood!” Metep said into the ensuing silence. “He must be Robin Hood! It's the only way we can salvage anything!” His tone became plaintive. “The trial will draw attention from us to him. Discontent will focus on him and Earth. That will give us time-”
“No trial,” Haworth said firmly. “Interrogate him quietly, execute him secretly, then announce that he has been released due to conflicting evidence and that the search for the real Robin Hood continues. No public trial is going to give us breathing room of any consequence.”
“But that leaves us where we are now,” Metep said through quivering lips. “Don't you understand? They're out there getting ready to recall me! And when they kick me out, you'll all go with me!”
“You can declare martial law due to the economic crisis,” Haworth said into Metep's growing hysteria. “They can't recall you then.”
“But I don't want to be known as the only Metep who had to call out the Guard to stay in office! If I have to, I will, certainly. But the trial-”
“The trial is a trap!” Haworth was on his feet, shouting. It was a release of the pressure that had been building within him since Metep had awakened him this morning. It was also a last resort. “Can't you get it through those neutronium skulls of yours that we're dealing with a genius here? I know for certain in my mind that Robin Hood-whoever he is-is responsible for everything bad that has happened to us. I don't know how he did it, I don't know why, I don't know what his next move is, but I am certain a public trial is just what he expects of us. Don't do it! Let me interrogate him for a few days. The right combination of drugs will start him talking and then we'll know everything-perhaps even the identity of the real Robin Hood.”
He paused for breath, watching their impassive faces. “Look…I'll compromise: when I'm done with him you can have your little show if you still want it. But let me break him first.”
“It must be now. Today.” From Metep's tone, Haworth knew he was beyond persuasion. “All in favor?” Metep said, raising his right hand and not bothering to look around the table. The other four members of the council raised their hands.
Haworth wheeled and stalked toward the door. “Then it's on your heads! I'll have no part of it!”
“Where do you think you're going?” Metep asked in a flat, cold voice.
“Off this planet before you send it up in smoke!”
“Earth, perhaps?” Krager said, his lined face beaming gleefully in the wake of Haworth's defeat.
“You are under house arrest,” Metep said. “You will be confined to your Complex quarters until the trial, at which time you will be escorted to Freedom Hall with the rest of us. I knew you'd try to run out on us and cannot allow it. It is crucial that we keep up appearances of unity.”
“You can't do that!”
Metep smiled wanly as he pressed a stud on the table top. “Can't I?” The outer door cycled open and two guardsmen entered. “Take him.”
* * *
BY THE TIME the guard stopped in front of the cell, LaNague had the lump in his right axilla trapped between his thumb and forefinger, ready to squeeze.
“Well,” the guard said-this one was as portly as Steen had been lean, “the fecaliths on top must want to get you out of the way real bad, Mr. Robin Hood.”
LaNague's fingers tightened on the lump. “What makes you say that?”
“They scheduled your trial for this afternoon…in Freedom Hall. It's all over the vid.”
“Is that so?” LaNague released the lump, actually a pea-sized wad of jelly encased in an impermeable membrane, and relaxed. It was all he could do to keep from laughing aloud and doing a jig around the cell. He had dreaded the thought of squeezing that little packet, and now it looked as if he wouldn't have to. It contained a neuroleptic substance that would leak out into the surrounding subcutaneous fat when the membranes was ruptured. From there via the bloodstream it would eventually find the way to its only active site in the body, the Broca area in the left hemisphere of his brain, where it would cause a membrance dysfunction in the neurons there, effectively paralyzing his language function for two weeks. He would be incapable of verbalizing any of his thoughts; any questions asked verbally would be perceived as incoherent sound; written questions would be seen as a meaningless jumble of marks, beyond comprehension; anything he tried to write would come out the same way. The condition was known as total receptive and expressive aphasia. LaNague would be rendered incapable of giving his interrogators truth or fiction, no matter what drugs they pumped into him.