The Colonel paused, his eyes sweeping the room. “These mines are going to continue to run, no matter what happens here. If you threaten production from these mines, Security is prepared to throw every man, woman and child in the colony into prison for treason, and send you back to Earth for trial, and bring in convicts and soldiers to run the mines. Already there’s been violence—my own life has been threatened twice. There’d better not be any more.”
The crowd exploded into an angry roar. Anson Torm was on his feet, turning furiously to the Colonel. “Can’t you see that threats won’t frighten these people any more? They’ve been living under threats for years. They won’t take any more.”
“They are threatening Earth’s entire economy. And they seem to have an exalted opinion of their own importance, for some strange reason.” The Colonel’s voice was like a knife.
“But if they blow up the mines—”
“And kill themselves at the same time? I’m sorry, but that bluff won’t work. Too many people have been trying to bluff me—”
Pandemonium broke loose on the floor as a dozen men began shouting at once. “You must be blind,” Torm cried. “Do you really think these people are bluffing?”
“Five hundred people will not deliberately blow up the very colony they must have in order to survive. Yes, I think they’re bluffing.” He straightened up, and his voice cut through the rising growl of the colonists. “I want Cortell in irons, and I want him on the Earth ship.” He was shaking with anger, his voice trembling. “I don’t care who wins your little battle here. But I want Cortell delivered to me at the Rocket Landing by sundown tomorrow. If he isn’t there then, and if you aren’t back in the mines then, I’ll declare martial law in this colony, and call a troopship in from Ganymede to enforce it.” The Colonel turned to Torm as a horrified hush fell over the room. “Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
“Perfectly.” Torm spat the word, as though it were something disgraceful.
“Then if you don’t mind, I’ll leave you to your squabbling.” The Colonel turned away contemptuously. “I’d like a half-track placed at my disposal immediately.”
He strode through the crowd like a man apart, catching Tuck’s eye as he passed, nodded grimly toward the stairs. Tuck followed him silently, his heart sinking. “Where are we going?”
“Back to the ship. It isn’t safe to remain here now.”
“But Dad, this is all wrong—”
“And I’ll thank you to keep your nose out of it, if you please!” His father’s voice was furious. Without another word he strode up the stairs.
Tuck hesitated just a moment, trying to catch David’s eye. But when he saw the utter despair on the boy’s face, he turned quickly and followed his father.
Minutes later they were walking swiftly toward the colony air lock.
Chapter 12
A Desperate Chance
For a long time they rode in silence. The half-track had been waiting for them when they gathered their belongings from the Torms’ cabin, Tuck packing in despair, his father in white-faced anger. They had climbed in, with the Colonel at the steering bar, and the vehicle started out across the valley floor in the direction of the Rocket Landing.
Tuck had no idea what time it was, but he knew it was very late. Saturn had set now; the sky was pitch black, matching perfectly the black rocks of the tundra. There seemed to be no hurry; the Colonel eased the half-track along, searching out the path with the emergency lamp, frequently slowing to a stop to study the treacherous ground. Tuck sat huddled on the seat, his mind whirling with the sudden turn of events. For the first time in his life he felt himself utterly at a loss—there seemed to be no possible answer. He stared miserably out the front panel, saying over and over to himself that this was all wrong, that there had to be an answer—but he realized that his father still didn’t know about the Big Secret—whatever it was. And as he watched the Colonel, sitting stiffly, face still angry, Tuck knew he couldn’t tell him now. Several times he started to speak; each time it suddenly seemed ridiculous. There was nothing to say, as minute by minute they moved farther away from the colony.
Finally Tuck said, “There must be some way to stop them.”
“A trial for treason will stop them,” the Colonel snapped. “Of all the pigheaded, rebellious trash I ever saw in my life—”
“You haven’t given them a chance—”
The Colonel snorted, turning angry eyes to his son. “Yes, they seem to have you right along with them. I thought you had more sense than to swallow their nonsense.”
Tuck’s eyes widened. “What did I do?”
“You really gave me a helping hand, you did, getting yourself all chummy with that ninny of a son of his. That was fine. While I was doing everything I could to keep things on a negotiable basis, you had to pour fuel on Cortell’s little fire, to make the people think that a shady deal was going on. I wonder what kind of friends you picked back at school.”
Tuck’s ears turned red at the sarcasm. “I’m sorry, Dad. But you aren’t even trying to see their viewpoint at all—”
“They have no viewpoint that makes any difference!” The Colonel burst out angrily. “You’d think they’d feel some sort of loyalty to the land that feeds them, and supports them and depends on them. Viewpoint, bah!
First they try to blackmail me, and then they take my own son out and feed him a wild story that he doesn’t have brain enough to see through—”
“That isn’t fair, and you know it!”
The Colonel looked at Tuck, and his face softened suddenly. The anger disappeared, and left behind it lines of weariness and defeat. “Oh, I suppose it isn’t. You didn’t know any better, and probably David didn’t realize what he was doing, either. I—I’m just tired, that’s all.” He sighed audibly. “This thing beats me, Tuck. It doesn’t make sense. I came up here to try to make a peaceable settlement, and I haven’t gotten to first base. Everything’s gone wrong right from the first, and now it looks like it’s going to be the end. We’ll be back to the penal colony stage, after all these years, and that’s a real defeat.” He shook his head wearily. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m getting old.”
Tuck sat in silence, his heart sinking. Then his father really didn’t realize what the true picture was. He still thought the whole business was a huge scheme to bluff him—with Torm and Cortell and David all working together. A flicker of doubt passed through his mind. Could it be possible that he had been fooled? That David had been used to foment violence against Torm and his father? Could it be that the Big Secret was actually ready, and that Torm himself was trying to breed an “incident” that would make it necessary to use it? Tuck shook his head. He just couldn’t believe that. Because there was no retreat for the colonists, no matter what plan they had. They could only go underground, into some vast subterranean vault, to lock themselves in, if they rebelled against Earth. Earth was too powerful, it spread too far. And once the die was cast, no Titan colonist would ever again be able to go anywhere in the Solar System. Their names would be the names of traitors against humanity, and they would have to stay in their hole and rot. So perhaps they would survive for twenty years, or fifty years, or a hundred years—what good was survival that way?
No, David was right, and the Colonel was wrong. He could see that—his father couldn’t. The Colonel had brought a little more distrust, a little deeper prejudice, and a more bitter fund of experience with him. These were the things that blocked his father and blinded him. He couldn’t see what had been happening to the Titan colonists, he couldn’t realize what it meant to live in a tight, crowded, frozen colony for generation after generation, seeing their slender grip on freedom and their rights as men being torn from them bit by bit. He couldn’t understand how they could be as desperate as they really were. And if Tuck were to tell him about the Big Secret—the Colonel would probably laugh. Because unless he could see the colonists’ viewpoint, the Big Secret would be just another deceit, just another lie to use to blackmail him—