"Meanwhile, for your information, we have utterly defeated the Axe armada. All ships were put out of commission except for two destroyers. These eluded us and are probably on the way back to Mars. Watch for them. If you sight them, avoid them. Note in what direction they are proceed-As long as they exist, we cannot breathe easily. We suffered heavy losses in gaining victory. Do you hear me?"
"I hear you," replied Broward. "But, before I return to Mars, I would like to speak to my wife. She is all right, isn't she?"
The almost intolerable waiting period passed. Scone's voice sounded again, "Broward! I do not like your disobeying my orders. But, in this great moment of triumph, I inclined to overlook it. Especially since you did carry out mission on which so much depended.
"Unfortunately, you cannot talk to your wife, "Or to mine.
"What do I mean by this? Just this. You may or may not know that it is now the law that every man is to have a mate, even if this means that one woman must have two or more to ensure this. So, I told Ingrid Nashdoi that she must share you with me. She refused and is, therefore, now under arrest. I am sure that she will change her mind later on. She is just having difficulty adjusting to the new ways inevitable because of the conditions. Once she gets over her irrationality and sees the logic of the law, she will agree. "Perhaps, you would like to speak to her and try to get her to see reason?"
For at least a minute Broward was speechless, his gaze fixed on the speaker as if he could not believe what had come from it. Then, his face a bright red, he roared out obscenities and threats. The veins on his neck were purple columns. He shook his fist, he dredged up every foul name he could think of, and he also told Scone his true sentiments about Scone's methods and philosophies. But he did not tell Scone what he planned to do on Mars. Breathing harshly, tears running from his eyes, he finally quit his tirade. He did not wait for a reply from Scone because be had little doubt of what it would be. From now on, as far as he was concerned, Scone had another war on his hands. Later, after he had cooled down somewhat, he realized that he had reacted exactly as Scone wished. Again, the crafty tiger of a man had killed two birds with one stone— a mixed metaphor that happened to be true. He had gotten Broward to carry out a mission for him and then gotten rid of him. He had placed Ingrid in a position in which, by rejecting Scone, she was breaking a vital law. And he had used this very fact to drive Broward to open rebellion. Thus, he hoped that, when Ingrid had given up hope of seeing Broward again, she would decide to accept Scone.
That was not quite true, Broward told himself. In the first place, Scone had several times only killed one of the
birds, even if he had thought he was getting both. It was true that Broward had returned from Earth with the bomb, but Moshe Yamanuchi was alive and had an excellent future. Moreover, the Mars question was not settled, far from it Perhaps, Scone was not as clever as he thought himself to be.
Thus, Broward found moments of consolation, although these alternated with worries over what would happen to Ingrid and with rage at Scone. Deimos came into view, and he was too busy from then on to think much about Scone or Ingrid.
As he had planned, he took the scout to the bottom of a very narrow crevasse. This was on the side that faced Mars. While the menacing orb hung above him, seeming to be falling towards him, he worked with the tapes. Finally, having checked his instructions, he put on his spacesuit and left the ship. The port closed after him, and he tested the effectiveness of his orders by pointing a pencil-sized emitter at it The coded frequencies were accepted; the port swung open.
Broward then lifted himself by means of his gravpak from the fissure and shot over the nightmarish surface towards his destination. He was not worried about locating the ship again. When he wished to retrace his way, he would circle the moonlet at a distance far enough away so he could send a radio signal with the pencil-transmitter and be assured that it would cover the area. The ship, on detecting the signal, would rise up from the crevasse until it was within sight.
Outside the port at which he had left the two Argentineans, Broward pressed the activation button. The port opened, and he stepped inside. Quiroga and Saavedra, clad in their service uniforms, were waiting for him.
"I am happy that you returned," said Saavedra. "Frankly, I had my doubts..."
"Are things ready for us to take off?" Broward asked.
He walked down the corridor with the two while Saavedra talked.
"Events are working out even better than I had hoped. Almost as if somebody were helping us. Shortly after you left, we received a message from Osorno. A supply boat was coming; this we expected. But we are to send half our personnel back to Mars to help take care of the sick or to replace those who have become sick. So, we won't have to think of an excuse to get down to Mars."
"Did my idea to substitute me for one of your men work?"
Saavedra laughed and said, "So far. I sent my cousin and an electronic maintenance man to a remote sector with orders to repair some equipment there. Pablo knocked him out and locked him up in a room with food and water. But he took off the poor fellow's uniform and identification tags and cards. They're waiting in another room right now. Pablo will bandage your face."
They walked down several corridors, then Quiroga and Broward went into an empty barracks while Saavedra continued. Here, the Moonman took off his garments and replaced them with those of Juan Pedro Malory. Since the commandant had been thoughtful enough to pick a victim Broward's size, the uniform fitted him almost exactly.
"A little tight around the chest," said Broward. "But it'll do."
Quiroga picked up some bandages. Broward sat down in a chair and allowed the young man to wrap the windings around his face. When the job was done, Broward's face was entirely covered except for the eyes.
"You are supposed to have had an accident while repairing the equipment."
Broward grunted and said, "I know. It was my idea."
"Pardon me. I am talking from nervousness. It helps. But listen. The men going with us will be told beforehand about you, Malory, rather. During the trip, you lie down and pretend to be sick. If anyone asks you anything, just groan. Or mumble a little. Your Spanish is intelligible and fluent, but your accent would give you away as a foreigner."
"What about when we get to Osorno? Will we have any trouble contacting this General Mier you spoke of?"
"I hope not."
Saavedra entered the room. "You hope not what?"
Quiroga told him, and the colonel said, "He is the only man with enough power to help us."
"I hope so, too," said Broward, speaking in Spanish. "I may as well tell you that we have," and he glanced at his wristwatch, "twenty-four hours. If we are not back here by then, we will all be dead within a short time after that."
Saavedra walked up to Broward and seized his wrist.
"What are you doing?" said Broward. He started to rise.
"I am not attacking you," answered Saavedra. "Give me your watch. There is none like it among us. You do not want anybody to question you about it, do you?"
"Yes. What do you mean?" answered Saavedra.
"At the end of that time, the ship will automatically leave its hiding place and start on its mission to deliver the bomb."
"Dios mio! Why did you arrange that?"
Broward smiled grimly. "I owe my people that much. Also, I wanted insurance that you would carry out your bargain. By the way, don't send men out to look for it while we're gone. Its receptors are active. If anybody but me approaches it, it will take off by itself. And even I will not then be able to find it."
Stiffly, Saavedra said, "I gave you my word"
Broward shrugged and said, "Ordinarily, that would be enough, I assure you. But there is too much at stake. Shall we go?"