"It was canned."
"Clever, these Nazis. There was some doubt in my mind as to whether to charge you with first or second degree. But you had to grab the gun away from me first, before you could shoot your pal. That's premeditation. So you're charged—piracy and first-degree murder. How do you plead? Guilty or not guilty?"
Von Hartwick hesitated a bit before replying. "Since I do not admit the jurisdiction of this so-called court, I refuse to enter a plea. Even if I concede- which I don't -that you honestly believe this to be United Nations territory, you still are not a court."
"A ship's master has very broad powers in an emergency. Look it up some time. Get a ouija board and look it up."
Von Hartwick raised his eyebrows. "From the nature of that supposedly humorous remark I can see that I am convicted before the trial starts."
Cargraves chewed reflectively. "In a manner of speaking, yes," he conceded. "I'd like to give you a jury, but we don't really need one. You see, there aren't any facts to be established because there aren't any facts in doubt. We were all there. The only question is: What do those facts constitute under the law? This is your chance to speak your piece if you intend to."
"Why should I bother? You mongrel nations prate of justice and equality under law. But you don't practice it. You stand there with your hands dripping with the blood of my comrades, whom you killed in cold blood, without giving them a chance—yet you speak to me of piracy and murder!"
"We discussed that once before," Cargraves answered carefully. "There is a world of difference, under the laws of free men, between an unprovoked attack and striking back in your own defense. If a footpad assaults you in a dark alley, you don't have to get a court order to fight back. Next. Got any more phony excuses?"
The Nazi was silent. "Go ahead," Cargraves persisted. "You could still plead not guilty by reason of insanity and you might even convince me. I always have thought a man with a MasterRace complex was crazy as a hoot owl. You might convince me that you were crazy in a legal sense as well."
For the first time, von Hartwick's air of aloof superiority seemed to crack. His face got red and he appeared about to explode. Finally he regained a measure of control and said, "Let's have no more of this farce. Do whatever it is you intend to do and quit playing with me."
"I assure you that I am not playing. Have you anything more to say in your own defense?"
"I find you guilty on both charges. Have you anything to say before sentence is passed?"
The accused did not deign to answer.
"Very well. I sentence you to death."
Art took a quick, gasping breath and backed out of the doorway where he had been huddled, wide-eyed, with Ross and Morrie. There was no other sound.
"Have you anything to say before the sentence is executed?"
Von Hartwick turned his face away. "I am not sorry. At least I will have a quick and merciful death. The best you four swine can hope for is a slow and lingering death."
"Oh," said Cargraves, "I intended to explain to you about that. We aren't going to die."
"You think not?" There was undisguised triumph in von Hartwick's voice.
"I'm sure of it. You see, the Thor arrives in six or seven days-"
"What? How did you find that out?" The Nazi seemed stunned for a moment, then muttered, "Not that it matters to the four of you—but I see why you decided to kill me. You were afraid I would escape you."
"Not at all," returned Cargraves. "You don't understand. If it were practical to do so, I would take you back to earth to let you appeal your case before a higher court. Not for your sake- you're guilty as sin! -but for my own. However, I do not find it possible. We will be very busy until the Thor gets here and I have no means of making sure that you are securely imprisoned except by standing guard over you every minute. I can't do that; we haven't time enough. But I don't intend to let you escape punishment. I don't have a cell to put you in. I had intended to drain the fuel from your little rocket and put you in there, without a suit. That way, you would have been safe to leave alone while we worked. But, now that the Thor is coming, we will need the little rocket."
Von Hartwick smiled grimly. "Think you can run away, eh? That ship will never take you home. Or haven't you found that out yet?"
"You still don't understand. Keep quiet and let me explain. We are going to take several of the bombs such as you used on the Galileo and blow up the room containing your guided missiles. It's a shame, for I see it's one of the rooms built by the original inhabitants. Then we are going to blow up the Wotan."
"The Wotan? Why?" Von Hartwick was suddenly very alert.
"To make sure it never flies back to earth. We can't operate it; I must make sure that no one else does. For then we intend to blow up the Thor."
"The Thor? You can't blow up the Thor!"
"Oh, yes, we can—the same way you blew up the Galileo. But I can't chance the possibility of survivors grabbing the Wotan—so she must go first. And that has a strong bearing on why you must die at once. After we blast the Wotan we are going back to our own base- you didn't know about that, did you? -but it is only one room. No place for prisoners. I had intended, as I said, to keep you in the jeep rocket, but the need to blast the Thor changes that. We'll have to keep a pilot in it all times, until the Thor lands. And that leaves no place for you. Sorry," he finished, and smiled.
"Anything wrong with it?" he added.
Von Hartwick was beginning to show the strain. "You may succeed-"
"Oh, we will!"
"But if you do, you are still dead men. A quick death for me, but a long and slow and lingering death for you. If you blast the Thor, you lose your own last chance. Think of it," he went on, "starving or suffocating or dying with cold. I'll make a pact with you. Turn me loose now and I'll give you my parole. When the Thor arrives, I'll intercede with the captain on your behalf. I'll-"
Cargraves cut him off with a gesture. "The word of a Nazi! You wouldn't intercede for your own grandmother! You haven't gotten it through your thick head yet that we hold all the aces. After we kill you and take care of your friends, we shall sit tidy and cozy and warm, with plenty of food and air, until we are picked up. We won't even be lonesome; we were just finishing our earth sender when you picked up one of our local signals. We'll-"
"You lie!" shouted von Hartwick. "No one will pick you up. Yours was the only ship. I know, I know. We had full reports."
"Was the only ship." Cargraves smiled sweetly. "But under a quaint old democratic law which you wouldn't understand, the plans and drawings and notes for my ship were being studied eagerly the minute we took off. We'll be able to take our pick of ships before long. I hate to disappoint you but we are going to live. I am afraid I must disappoint you on another score. Your death will not be as clean and pleasant as you had hoped."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I am not going to get this ship all bloodied up again by shooting you. I'm going to-"
"Wait. A dying man is entitled to a last request. Leave me in the Wotan. Let me die with my ship!"
Cargraves laughed full in his face. "Lovely, von Nitwit. Perfectly lovely. And have you take off in her. Not likely!"
"I am no pilot—believe me!"
"Oh, I do believe. I would not think of doubting a dying man's last words. But I won't risk a mistake. Ross!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Take this thing and throw it out on the face of the moon."