Laughing, Bigman scrambled backward, made his way over the remnants of the baffle, passed the struts he had cut away, slid down the slopes…,
Bigman searched desperately for Lucky through the confusion that now flooded all the city. The man at the lever was in custody, the transite barrier had been lifted, and the population was flooding back (angry, for the most part, at the city administration for allowing the whole thing to happen) into the homes they had abandoned. To the crowds who had so ghoulishly waited for disaster, the removal of fear was the signal for a high holiday.
At the end Morriss appeared from nowhere and placed a hand on Bigman's sleeve. "Lucky's calling."
Bigman, startled, said, "Where from?"
"From my room in the Council offices. I've told him what you've done."
Bigman flushed with pleasure. Lucky would be proud! He said, "I want to talk to him."
But Lucky's face on the screen was grim. He said, "Congratulations, Bigman, I hear you were terrific."
"It was nothing," grinned Bigman. "But where've you been?"
Lucky said, "Is Dr. Morriss there? I don't see him."
Morriss squeezed his face into the viewer. "Here I am."
"You've captured the man at the lever, according to the news I hear."
"We did. We absolutely did, thanks to Bigman," said Morriss.
"Then let me make a guess. When you closed in on him, he did not try to pull the lever. He simply gave himself up."
"Yes," said Morriss, frowning. "But what makes you guess that?"
"Because the whole incident at the lock was a smoke screen. The real damage was slated to happen at this end. When I realized that, I left. I tried to come back here. I had to use a hopper to get through the crowd and a groundcar the rest of the way."
"And?" asked Morriss anxiously.
"And I was too late!" said Lucky.
7. Questions
The day was over. The crowd had dispersed. The city had taken on a quiet, almost sleepy atmosphere, with only an occasional knot of two or three still discussing the events of the past several hours.
And Bigman was annoyed.
With Morriss he had left the scene of the recent danger and zoomed out to Council headquarters. There Morriss had had his conference with Lucky, a conference to which Bigman was not allowed entry and from which the Venusian had emerged looking grimly angry. Lucky remained calm but uncommunicative.
Even when they were alone again, Lucky said merely, "Let's get back to the hotel. I need sleep, and so do you after your own little game today."
He hummed the Council March under his breath, as he always did when he was completely abstracted, and signaled a passing tollcar. The car stopped automatically when the sight of his outstretched hand with fingers spread wide registered on its photoelectric scanners.
Lucky pushed Bigman in before him. He turned the dials to indicate the co-ordinate position of the Hotel Bellevue-Aphrodite, put in the proper combination of coins, and let the machine's computer take over. With Ms foot he adjusted the speed lever to low.
The tollcar drifted forward with a pleasantly smooth motion. Bigman would have found it both comforting and restful if he had been in a less itchingly curious state of mind.
The little Martian flicked a glance at his large friend. Lucky seemed interested only in rest and thought. At least he leaned back on the upholstery and closed his eyes, letting the motion rock him while the hotel seemed to approach and then become a large mouth, which swallowed them as the tollcar automatically found the entrance to the receiving dock of the hotel's garage.
Only when they were in their own room did Bigman reach the point of explosion. He cried, "Lucky, what's it all about? I'm going nuts trying to figure it out."
Lucky stripped off his shirt and said, "Actually, it's only a matter of logic. What kind of accidents occurred as a result of men's being mentally dominated before today? What kind did Morriss mention? A man giving away money. A man dropping a bale of weed. A man placing poison in a nutrient mixture for yeast. In each case, the action was a small one, but it was an action. It was something done."
"Well?" said Bigman.
"All right, what did we have today? It wasn't something small at all; it was something big. But it wasn't action. It was exactly the opposite of action: A man put his hand on a dome-lock lever and then did nothing. Nothing!"
Lucky vanished into the bathroom and Bigman could hear the needle shower and Lucky's muffled gasps under its invigorating jets. Bigman followed at last, muttering savagely under his breath.
"Hey," he yelled.
Lucky, his muscled body drying in churning puffs of warm air, said, "Don't you get it?"
"Space, Lucky, don't be mysterious, will you? You know I hate that."
"But there's nothing mysterious. The mentalists have changed their entire style, and there must be a reason.
Don't you see the reason for having a man sit at a dome-lock lever and do nothing?"
"I said I didn't."
"Well, what was accomplished by it?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing? Great galaxy! Nothing? They only get half the population of Aphrodite and practically every official' out to the threatened sector in double-speed time. They get me out there and you and Morriss. Most of the city was left bare, including Council headquarters. And I was such a lunk that it was only when Turner, the city's chief engineer, mentioned how easy it would be to get out of the city with the police force disrupted that it occurred to me what was happening."
"I still don't see it. So help me, Lucky, I'm going
"Hold it, boy," Lucky seized Bigman's threatening fists in one large palm. "Here it is: I got back to Council headquarters as fast as possible and found that Lou Evans had already gone."
"Where did they take him?"
"If you mean the Council, they didn't take him anywhere. He escaped. He knocked down a guard, seized a weapon, used his Council wrist-mark to get a subship and escaped to sea."
"Was that what they were really after?"
"Obviously. The threat to the city was strictly a feint. As soon as Evans was safely out into the ocean, the man at the lock was released from control and, naturally, he surrendered."
Bigman's mouth worked. "Sands of Mars! All that stuff in the ventilating duct was for nothing. I was fifty kinds of cobbered fool."
"No, Bigman, you weren't," said Lucky, gravely. "You did a good job, a terrific job, and the Council is going to hear about it."
The little Martian flushed, and for a moment pride left no room in him for anything else. Lucky took the opportunity to get into bed.
Then Bigman said, "Bat Lucky, that means…I mean, if Councilman Evans got away by a trick of the mentalists, then he's guilty, isn't he?"
"No," said Lucky vehemently," he isn't."
Bigman waited, but Lucky had nothing more to say on the subject and instinct told Bigman to let the matter die. It was only after he had burrowed into the cool plastex sheets, having undressed and washed in his turn, that he tried again.
"Lucky?"
"Yes, Bigman."
"What do we do next?"
"Go after Lou Evans."
"We do? What about Morriss?"
"I'm in charge of the project now. I had Chief Councilman Conway put that across all the way from Earth."
Bigman nodded in the darkness. That explained why he himself had not been able to attend the conference. Friend though he might be of Lucky Starr a dozen times over, he was not a member of the Council of Science. And, in a situation where Lucky would have to move in over a fellow councilman's head and call in the authority of Earth and central headquarters to back him, non-councilmen were strictly not wanted as witnesses.
But now the old lust for action was beginning to stir in him. It would be into an ocean now, the vastest, most alien ocean on the inner planets. He said excitedly, "How early do we leave?"
"As soon as the ship they're outfitting is ready. Only first we see Turner."