"I have work that holds me. Soon Corso, Cornelia and I will journey out beyond the Solar system in the Pi-meson. There I shall conduct certain experiments on my own mind and on theirs. We shall see what good intelligence serves- and what great good, I suspect, pure consciousness achieves. Do you want to come, Alan?"
Alan deliberated. He had no place with the Fireclown. There were things to sort out on Earth. He shook his head.
"It grieves me to see you reject a gift-maybe the greatest gift in the universe
F'
"It is not a gift that suits my taste-Father."
"So be it," the Fireclown sighed.
The Solar Bird soared down into Earth's atmosphere and streaked across oceans and continents before Helen switched on its braking jets and plunged into Hamburg spaceport.
The berth was ready for her and she steered into it. The water drained from the interior chamber.
Alan preceded her out of the airlock.
As he stepped into the chamber, a man entered through the other door.
"My God, Powys, where've you been?" It was Denholm Curtis, a mixture of worry and anger on his face.
Alan didn't answer immediately but turned to help Helen out of the ship. He didn't need the pause since he had already worked out his answer.
"We've been to see my father."
"Your father! I didn't know you…"
"I only found out who he was recently."
"I see. Well…" Curtis was nonplussed. "I wish you and Helen had told me."
"Sorry. We had to leave in a hurry. Your ship's perfectly all right."
"The ship's not important-it was you and Helen…" Curtis pursed his lips.
"Anyway, I'm glad that's all it was. What with the threat of the Fireclown making an attack and everything, I thought you might have been kidnapped or killed." He smiled at his sister, who didn't respond. Helen had been silent for most of the trip. "But rumors about the pair of you are rife. Scandal won't do either of you any good-least of all Helen. Uncle Simon's popularity is rising incredibly. Overnight he's become the dominant man in Solar politics. You've got a tough fight on-if you still intend to fight."
"More than ever," Helen said quietly.
"I've got a car upstairs. Want to come back with me?"
"Thanks," they said.
As her brother lifted his car into the pale Hamburg sky Helen said to him: "What do you think of this Fireclown scare, Denholm?"
"It's more than a scare," he said. "It's a reality. How can we be sure he hasn't planted bombs all over the world- bombs he can detonate from space?"
Alan felt depressed. If Denholm Curtis, who rebelled habitually against any accepted theory or dogma, was convinced of the Fireclown's guilt then there was little chance of convincing anyone else to the contrary.
"But do you realize, Denholm," he said, "that we have only the word of one man-Simon Powys-and circumstantial evidence to go on? What if the Fireclown isn't guilty?"
"The concept's too remote for me, I’m afraid," Denholm said with a curious glance at Alan. "I didn't think anyone doubted the Fireclown had planned to detonate his cache. There were enough bombs there to blow the world apart."
"I doubt if he planned anything," Helen said.
"So do I." Alan nodded.
Denholm looked surprised. "I can understand you being uncertain, Helen, after your support of the Fireclown. It must be hard to find out you've been wrong all the way down the line. But you, Alan-what makes you think there could be a mistake?"
"There's the one big reason-that all the evidence against the Fireclown is circumstantial. He might not have known about the bombs, he might not have been responsible for the holocaust that swept the levels. He might not, in fact, have had any plan to destroy anything at all. We haven't captured him yet, we haven't brought him to trial-but we've all automatically judged him guilty. I want to see my grandfather-he's the man who has convinced the world that the Fireclown is a criminal!"
Curtis was thoughtful. "I never thought I'd get caught up in hysteria," he said.
"But, although I'm fairly sure the Fireclown is guilty, I admit there's a possibility of his being innocent. If we could prove him innocent, Alan, the war scare would be over. I'm already perturbed about that. You know the government has been approached by the arms. syndicate?" This last remark to Helen.
"It's logical." Helen nodded. "And we've also considered the chance that this whole thing has been engineered by the dealers-not the Clown."
"That crossed my mind, too, at first," Denholm agreed. "But it seems too fantastic."
"Let's go and have this out with the Man of the Moment," Alan suggested. "Can you take us to Grandfather's apartment, Denholm?"
"Take you? I'll come with you."
As the trio entered Simon Powys' apartment, they were greeted by Junnar.
"Glad to see you're both all right," he said to Alan and Helen. "Minister Powys is in conference with the President, Chief Sandai, Minister Petrovich and others."
"What's it about?" asked Alan, unwilling to be put off. "The Fireclown situation."
"So that's what they're calling it now!" Alan said with a faint smile. "You'd better disturb them, Junnar. Tell them we've got some fresh information for them."
"Is it important, sir?"
"Yes!" Helen and Alan said in unison. Junnar took them into the sitting room, where they waited impatiently for a few moments before he came back, nodding affirmatively.
They entered Simon Powys' study. The most powerful politicians in the Solar System sat there-Powys, Benjosef, gloomy-faced Petrovich, Minister in the Event of Defense; hard-featured Gregorius, Minister of Justice; smooth-skinned, red-cheeked Falkoner, Minister of Martian Affairs; and tiny, delicate Madame Ch'u, Minister of Ganymedian Affairs. Beside the mantelpiece, standing relaxed and looking bored, was a man Alan didn't recognize. His eyes were at once amiable and deadly.
Simon Powys said harshly: "Well, Alan, I hope you've got an explanation for your disappearance. Where have you been?"
"To see the Fireclown." Alan's voice was calm.
"But you said…" Denholm Curtis broke in.
"I had to tell you something, Denholm. That was before I decided to come here."
"The Fireclown! You know his whereabouts?" Powys glanced at the tall man by the mantelpiece. "Why didn't you tell us as soon as you knew?"
"I didn't know for certain until I found him."
"Where is he?" Powys turned to address the tall man. "Iopedes, be ready to get after him!"
"I met him in space," Alan said carefully. "We went aboard his space-ship. He won't be in the region of space now. He wouldn't let us go until he'd moved on."
"Damn!" Simon Powys got up. "We've got every ship of the three planets combing space for him and you discovered him, by chance. Did you learn anything?"
"Yes." Somewhere, in the last few action-filled days, Alan had found strength.
He was in perfect control of himself. He addressed the entire group, ignoring his fuming grandfather.
"I believe the Fireclown to be innocent of any deliberate act of violence," he announced calmly.
"You'll have to substantiate that, Mr. Powys," purred Madame Ch'u, looking at him quizzically.
"How do you know?" Simon Powys strode over to his grandson and gripped his arm painfully.
"I know because I spent some hours in the Fireclown's company and he told me he had nothing to do with the bomb plot or the burning of the levels."
"That's all?" Powys's fingers tightened on Alan's arm.
"That's all I needed," Alan said, and then in a voice which only his grandfather could hear: "Let go of my arm, Grandfather. It hurts."
Simon Powys glared at him and released his grip. "Don't tell me you're still being gulled by this monster! Helen- you saw him, too-what did you think?"
"I agree with Alan. He says the policemen tampered with his delicate flame-machines and that's what caused the holocaust. He says he knew nothing of the bombs. I suspect they were planted on him by the arms syndicate-in order to start the scare which you're now helping to foster."