A hand clamped hard above his elbow, dragging his fingers away from his weapon before he could draw it. To the right and left grim-faced Archs had fallen into step with him.
"Keep marching — "
Kana did, mechanically, his eyes after one wild glance centered straight ahead. But they were not herding him toward headquarters. No 'copter settled down at their signal to collect guards and prisoners. They were still headed for the Museum.
Unable to guess what was going to happen now, Kana simply kept on between his silent companions. To anyone passing they might have been three friends on a sightseeing tour of Prime.
Just before they reached the entrance to the Museum the man who had kept that paralyzing grip on his arm spoke:
"In here — "
Completely bewildered, Kana turned in, the other two matching him step for step. They met no one in the wide hall lined with cases containing prewar relics unearthed in the vicinity. And no one appeared as they stepped on the down conveyor which lowered them to the depths under the street.
That sudden pick-up when he had believed himself safe had been a stunning blow, but now Kana was recovering, marshaling his energy to try another break at the first opportunity. But why had he been brought here? Could it be that they were under the impression that he was a member of some secret organization — the one Hansu had hinted about — and expected him to lead them to his comrades? Curiosity replaced surprise and he resigned himself to wait until they showed their hand one way or another.
More hallways and exhibit cases, gloomy rooms with displays or ranks of filing cabinets. Once or twice they sighted a man at work at desk or file, but none looked up or appeared aware of Kana and his escort — the three might have been invisible.
They marched on until they reached the end of that maze, a single large room crowded with machinery which probably was a heating or air-conditioning unit. Then the guard at his left took several paces ahead, threading through the machinery to an inconspicuous door which gave on a flight of stairs leading down into a dimly lit area where several small track-running trucks were pulled up at a platform.
There were men loading bulky packages on these, but they, too, gave the three no heed.
"In." A pointing finger emphasized the order and Kana climbed into an unloaded truck, hunkering down on a small seat. One of his companions took his place on an even smaller rest in front and the other crowded in beside him. The vehicle started away from the platform, gathering speed as it spun along the rails, and then whipped into the semi-darkness of a tunnel opening.
Were they on their way to Headquarters? But why travel underground when it would have been much easier to bundle him into a 'copter and make the short trip in the open? As the minutes of their swift journey began to pile up Kana guessed that now they were not only beyond Headquarters, but that they must be fast approaching the limits of Prime itself. He was completely confused over direction. They might have been out under the floor of the bay, or far inland, when the car came to a stop beside a second platform and his guards ordered him out of it.
This time they did not ascend but walked along a lighted side corridor into a place of regulated activity. Here, too, were series of file-filled rooms, and some laboratories with busy workers.
"In here — "
Again Kana obeyed that command, entered a room and — stopped short.
"Three hours, ten minutes." Hansu was consulting his watch. Now he turned to the man beside him, the man wearing a deputy-commander's uniform. "Pay me that half credit, Matt. I told you he could do it. Only a fraction slow — but entirely sure. I know my candidate!"
The other drew a coin from his belt pouch and solemnly passed it over. Kana shut his mouth. For the High Brass who had just dropped that metal token in the Blademaster's waiting palm had, not long before, sat granite-faced to sentence him to a labor camp for life.
Now Hansu's attention came back to him and Kana found himself measured with a critical stare.
"Rather lively for a dead man," was the Blademaster's strange comment. "You" — he pointed an accusing finger — "were blasted an hour ago when you tried to force your way on board a transport to the Islands."
For the second time Kana opened his mouth and this time he was able to get out words.
"Interesting — if true — sir — "
Hansu was grinning with an open light-heartedness Kana had never seen him display before.
"Amusing dramatics." Still his explanation made little sense. "Welcome to Prime — the real Prime. And meet its governor — Commander Matthias."
"You pick up your cues well, son." The Commander nodded at Kana approvingly. "Made that escape as smoothly as if you had had a chance to rehearse it."
"I told you," Hansu broke in. "He's good enough to make it worthwhile enlisting him."
Kana began to understand why he had been left in that corridor waiting room at Headquarters, how he had been able to trick the guard so easily.
"You set up that break for me," he said, half accusingly. "Did you have me tailed?"
"No. Your escape had to look natural. We just supplied the time, place, and opportunity — the raw materials as it were. The rest was up to you," Hansu replied.
"Then how did your men find me?"
"Through those paks you dialed out of the archives. That combination was a give-away — History of Prime, Ancient Remains in the Prime District, The Sea Coast, Map of Prime — all asked for at the same time by one person. So we just sent the boys along to pick you up."
Kana dropped down on a bench without having been invited to such relaxation. This was moving a little too fast for him. Easy — logical But everything Hansu said spoke of a city-wide net of surveillance, of a tight and well-functioning organization. What kind and for what purpose?
"And the labor camp?" He asked the first question of the many in his mind at that moment.
"Oh, there are labor camps right enough — supposedly established for criminals and malcontents of all kinds," the Commander returned cheerfully. "Only we differ somewhat from the C.C. Agents in our definition of both `labor camp' and `crime against the Galactic peace.' And those Agents would be quite surprised if they visited any camps except the two or three we maintain for official display purposes. Right now you're in what might be termed `Camp Number One.' And we can introduce you to a lot of hardened offenders against the status quo if you wish. So you're going to serve the sentence which was imposed on you this morning — there's no getting around that. However, I don't believe you will offer any objections to your fate. Hansu hasn't. Or do you harbor some deep, dark reservations, Trig?"
The Blademaster's grin grew even broader. "Not that you can see, Matt. I'll toil under your whips just as long as you'll persuade the powers that be to let me. I only wish that I had been let into the whole secret a lot earlier in life — there're a lot of things I could have done — " He ended on a wistful note.
"What about Kosti and Larsen, sir? And the rest of the Horde on Fronn?"
"Kosti and Larsen earthed in the far south and have been picked up by our men — the C.C. Agents won't ever know about them. As for the Horde — well, that will take some arranging here and there. For the present they're safe with the Venturi — and I think we can make a deal with those traders. They're the sort we want to contact. We'll lift the Horde out of that pinch before those renegades and the C.C. get to them. On the other hand we can't slap Device down or spill all we have discovered about his backers. But the Venturi will be allowed in on part of the secret so that they will know you have not gone back on your word. Here in Prime Two we have a rather odd idea that promises should be kept — if it is humanly possible."