Torm turned back to the group of men. “Now, then, for Cortell himself. There are plenty of people in this colony who will help him if they can. But Cortell and his boys can’t get out of the colony without our knowing it—we’ve got all the pressure locks under guard. So we can be pretty sure they’re in here, somewhere. Jack, you take your group and comb everything topside—every cabin, every building. Don’t miss anything—”
“Anson, the people won’t take it.” The man was a huge, black-faced miner. “He’s got support, and they’ll fight us down.”
“Those that are with us will help—recruit them as you go along. As for the others—” he glanced at the miner. “That’s why you have the gun. Cortell is under arrest for attempted murder, and if they’re hiding him, they’re accomplices. Now get going.” The group of men shuffled out. Torm leaned back and motioned to the man who had just come down the stairs. “What do you think, Ned?”
“I don’t know.” Ned Miller’s face was tired. “Johnny Taggart has been contacting all his supporters—”
“Oh, I know it—it’s all over the colony. And they know their propaganda methods.” Torm shot Colonel Benedict a black look. “The question is, what now? What’s he going to do?”
Ned scowled. “If he can’t get more guns, he’s blocked for a while. But there’s no hope of finding him, if he doesn’t want to be found. He won’t be hiding above ground—”
“I know that. But we’ve got to be sure, and get the folks on his side worried about helping him. Jack and the gang will take care of that.”
The dirty little man rubbed his stubbled chin and nodded. “So he’s down in the mines somewhere, with guns enough to blockade himself in even if we found him.” He also glanced at Colonel Benedict, and suddenly dropped his voice to a whisper.
Torm began shaking his head vigorously. “He couldn’t do that. Not yet—the stockpile just isn’t big enough. That’s what I don’t like about this—he couldn’t be ready at this point. Unless he’s changed his plans, somehow. He just wouldn’t dare try it—”
For the first time Colonel Benedict stood up, turned to Torm. “I take it you don’t expect to find this madman.”
Torm looked up with cold blue eyes. “We don’t stand a chance in a million, thanks to you. Cortell’s support is growing every minute. He’s got over a third of the colony on his side now—and with that he can hide where he likes, and he’ll never be found.”
The Colonel scowled. “That’s very nice,” he said sourly. “And just what is it that Cortell wouldn’t try?”
Torm’s eyes narrowed. “He can’t do anything—or at least he won’t, as long as we can keep weapons out of his hands.”
“These mining tunnels—they go for miles back underground, don’t they?”
Torm’s eyes flickered. “That’s right.”
“And how many tunnels are there?”
“Dozens. There are three or four hundred miles of tunnel going out of the colony, one place or another—”
“Then what’s to prevent Cortell from holing himself up in one of the tunnels with his friends, and blowing the entire colony to kingdom come?”
“Nothing could prevent it, if Cortell wanted to do it. It would be very simple. There’s methane outside on the planet’s surface. It would be a simple matter to break through someplace in the tunnel and let methane into the colony—he could do it in a dozen places, and we wouldn’t have a chance of stopping him. And then when it got to a critical mixture, just a single spark, a single lit match, and the colony would go off like an atom bomb.” Torm’s eyes met the Colonel’s defiantly.
“Anyone in this colony could have done that, years ago—but we haven’t. And Cortell won’t do it, either. Not now.”
“Why not?”
“What would it accomplish? There he’d be, and as soon as his supplies gave out, or his oxygen, he’d be as dead as we were.”
Colonel Benedict leaned over the desk, staring straight at the colony leader. “But for years and years supplies have been coming in here, smuggled supplies, above the colony’s quota, Anson. Food, plants, equipment, tools—everything.” His eyes blazed. “I think it’s time for you to do some talking. I’m tired of this run-around. I want to know where those supplies have gone, and what Cortell plans to do with them. I want to know who’s behind the smuggling that’s been going on, and why it’s been going on.” The Colonel’s knuckles tightened on his chair. “A criminal is at large in the colony, and you sit quietly by and say, ‘Oh, he won’t hurt anybody, he won’t do any damage, let him be.’ All right, if Cortell is not able to put his plans for revolt in action now, I want to know why not.”
Torm spread his hands. “He just won’t. He can’t.”
“Then what’s blocking him?”
Anson Torm’s face was set. He didn’t answer.
“I want the truth, Torm. What are his plans? What’s blocking him?”
“I can’t tell you—” He broke off as a group of men came tumbling down the stairs into the meeting room, angry-faced men, talking rapidly among themselves.
They gathered in a group, still muttering angrily and looking darkly at Anson Torm when a tall, thin man walked up to Torm, hands on his belt. “What’s the idea of sending men up with guns to break out the arsenal?” The man’s anger was barely controlled as he glared down at the colony leader.
Anson Torm looked up calmly. Then he nodded to the Colonel. “This is Colonel Benedict, of Earth Security. Colonel, meet Rog Strang.”
The man called Strang glared at the Colonel for a moment, and then spat on the floor. “I didn’t come to talk to this scum. I came to talk to you. Your men are cleaning out the arsenal. What’s the idea?”
“I ordered them to. There were guns stolen from it last night, as you probably know well enough. Cortell is at large, as you also know quite well. And as long as I’m leader of this colony, Cortell’s not going to get any more guns.”
Strang sneered. “Maybe you’re not going to be leader for so long. The people want you to lay off Cortell. He’s the only one who’s talking sense around here, and he says the time has come to quit taking it lying down from Earth Security. What do you say to that, Anson?”
“Noble sentiments, indeed. Only thing is, Cortell talks too much.” Torm’s pale eyes caught the other man’s. “Any more foolish questions, Strang, or are you ready to take your friends back out of here?”
The man’s hand was trembling angrily. “The people won’t take it much longer. They want Cortell cleared.”
“Some of the people, you mean. There’s been no convention and no election, to my knowledge. Until there is, I’m still in charge here, and my warrant for Cortell stands.”
The man turned on his heel and started to go, then turned once again to Torm, his eyes wild. “There’s nasty talk around, Anson. Talk about you being the traitor, selling out to these Earth dogs. What are they offering you, Anson? Safe passage back to Earth? A nice place to live for the rest of your life, with hot and cold running water—?”
“Get out of here, Strang.” Torm’s voice sounded rusty, and his hands gripped his chair until his knuckles were white. As the group went up the stairs, he turned to the Colonel. “I can’t sit here and talk any longer—I’ve got to get a search of the tunnels organized. Cortell won’t do anything just now—I can’t tell you why, you’ll just have to take my word for it. But I warn you, Colonel—this is a fight to the finish, this time. If Cortell can win the colony to his side, it’ll all be over. The people hate you and Earth with four generations of hate, and Cortell is playing that hate for all it’s worth. It’s up to you, now. If you’re ready to trust me and make a square and honorable deal with the Titan colonists, there may be time to save things. But time is running out—” He stood up and walked for the stairs with a group of his men around him. “We’ll have to split up the tunnels among us,” he was saying as they went up the stairs. “And we’ll have to go slow .