"Jake!" John greeted me cheerily. "You're out!"
"Not for long, if I don't get out of town."
His smile faded. "Oh. Anything we can do?"
"Yeah. Lend me your vehicle."
"Uhhh…" His expression froze.
"I know it's a lot to ask," I said, filling up the silence in a hurry. 'Tell you what. Why don't you pull into that little diner over there, go in, leave the key in the Gaddy. I'll steal it. Give me about a half hour, then report it. I'll leave the car out on the Skyway, and there'll be no problems."
Susan was in the back seat. She leaned forward and spoke into John's ear, but not so that I couldn't overhear.
"John, don't do it," she pleaded. "We're in enough trouble. Colonel Petrovsky said―" She broke off and looked at me guiltily. "Sorry, Jake, but we'd like to stay out of this."
"I can understand," I said, wondering if I had the callous gall to yank John out of his seat, shoo Roland and Susan out… or just pull a gun on them. But, damn it, you just don't do that sort of thing to friends.
John looked depressed. "I really don't know," he said, shaking his head wearily.
Nothing like the sight of Reticulans to take your mind off a moral quandary. They came ghosting by, four of them, rolling along in their low-slung, bright blue-green roadster. It was a big machine with a trailer tagging along behind, attached by accordian joint. The trailer was easily big enough for an off-road buggy. The vehicle proper was a rhapsody of arcane aerodynamic surfaces, curving sinuously, set about with clear low bubbles, tiny minarets, spikes, and knobs. The aliens weren't looking at me ― by that I mean their heads weren't turned ― but I knew those camera-eyes were set at extreme wide-angle.
Had they followed from the station? How? I hadn't seen them. Uncanny, I heard Petrovsky say. But who can understand aliens? And wherever the Reticulans were, the Militia would be close behind.
"Jake, we'd really like to help," John was saying. I don't think any of them noticed the Rikkis.
I turned back to him. "It could mean my life, John."
" ― but I… Oh, dear." John looked completely lost.
"Let's do it," Roland said forcefully. "We have no choice, morally speaking."
"But the authorities," John wavered. "What exactly is our responsibility…?"
"I think the moral issues are clear," Susan said. "Jake helped us, and last night we helped him. At least we tried to."
"You're doing moral bookkeeping?" Roland chided. "Since when was an ethical issue a matter of debits and credits?"
"I am not keeping books," Susan retorted, a little hurt. "I just don't think it wise to get involved any more than we are. We're going to be living on this planet―"
"Jake, as far as I'm concerned," Roland told me, leaning past John to look out the port, "you can have the Gaddy."
"You didn't let me finish," Susan said hotly.
"I suppose it's up to me, then," John lamented, the democratic process weighing heavily on his shoulders.
"Jake, do you really think it's fair," Susan appealed to me, "to ask us to risk being dragged into whatever you're involved in?"
"Huh?" I was looking at the Reticulans. They had turned a comer to the left and had stopped, the rear end of the trailer sticking out from behind the comer of an auxiliary building to a farm-equipment stockyard. I wasn't overly concerned with them at the moment. They were taking a risk cruising around a human city. Darla had her blunderbuss aimed in their general direction. She'd blast first and inquire later if they showed. I kept one eye on the other side of the building. "I'm sorry, what did you say, Susan?"
"Susan has cast her vote," Roland said. "John, what's yours?" John started to say something when Susan blurted out, "I am really angry with you two!" Her cheeks glowed and she was on the verge of tears. "I'm being totally ignored here and everytime I say something―"
"Nobody's ignoring you," Roland said sharply. Susan was exasperated. "There you go again!" "People, people…" John intoned placatingly. Darla was looking back at me, as if to say. What gives? A good question. I had my own moral decision to make, and time was running out. I fingered the handle of Petrovsky's pistol inside my pocket.
"We must approach this rationally, as always," John told his congregation. "Now, there's really no big hurry to get back to the ranch. I suggest we go into the diner… and not leave the key ― Jake here being the resourceful sort that he is…" He looked at me for support.
"That'd be fine," I said. But it would mean more time wasted, time to hot-chip the antitheft systems. And tools? Where would they come from? "One thing, though," I said, "Do they give you a handikit with one of these things? Tool kit, for emergencies?"
Roland opened the storage drawer under his seat and began to rifle through it.
"That way," John continued, "we could claim we had no intention of helping Jake get away. Aiding and abetting, and all that noise." He turned to Susan hopefully. "Is that acceptable?"
"Lots of debris in here," Roland said, hunting frantically.
"Can't seem to find… what's this?" He held up a greasy thing-amabob with a stray wire hanging from it.
"Old engine part," I told him.
"No, it's not acceptable, John, and you know it," Susan said huffily. "They'll never believe us. I'm getting out of this car right now."
"Now, wait a minute, please," John said.
Roland looked up. "Oh, she's not going anywhere," he scoffed.
"Watch me," Susan retorted frostily, and started sliding toward the curbside door.
John reached.back and grabbed her arm. "Susan, please," he pleaded.
And I grabbed John's arm. "People, I really don't have time for this."
John turned to me, a bit annoyed. "Uh, wait Just a moment, will you?" Susan tried yanking her arm free but John held fast. "Roland, talk to her!"
"No tools," Roland said to me.
I grunted. Well, no choice, really….
Susan had the door open and one leg hanging out, trying to pry John's fingers from her arm. "Let me go," she said through clenched teeth.
"Roland, please, talk to her!"
"Quit acting like a child," Roland snapped, glancing up at her while still trying;to find something useful in the drawer.
"Go to hell. John, let go!"
"Suzie, please," John said, his voice low and appeasing. "We'll sort this out. Just wait one more minute before you―"
"Oh, let her leave," Roland told him, disgusted. "Where's she going to go?"
"Anywhere! If I can get out of here. I'm warning you, if you don't―"
"Susan, sometimes you're a complete shit. Do you know that?"
She stopped struggling and glared at Roland. "You bastard! How dare you say that to me!"
"Well, you tell me how we're going to make a go of this colony when people bugger off at the first sign of trouble."
"The first sign of ―?" Susan's rage turned to disbelief. "As if this expedition hasn't been a disaster from the day we left Khadija! Three of us are dead, for God's sake."
"Yes, I know," Roland said, "but we've lost others. A i planet, new dangers―"
"Ever hear of trying to prepare for those things? First silly breakdown… and whose idea was it to disturb those nests of whatever the hell they were? Isn't the first rule you should follow on an unknown planet ―?"
"Yes, the first rule is 'never assume,'" John said, "and I broke it. I take complete responsibility."
"And that makes it all right?"
"No, it doesn't."
"Let her go." Roland was fed up. John sighed.
Susan took advantage of the slack and jerked her arm free. Roland immediately reached back and gripped her wrist.
Darla was saying with her eyes: What are the morons doing now? I shrugged helplessly.