The half-track jounced through the gorge where the ambush had been laid. Tuck and his father peered out, but could see very little of the rubble that had fallen. Minutes passed—how long had they been gone? An hour? Two? Tuck knew he should be tired, but sleep was far from his mind. Slowly they rolled along, moving in a strange slow motion, a little black bug feeling its way across the wastes of an impossible planetoid to the last haven of humanity that still remained—the ship from Earth. Yet once they reached it, there would be no retreat. The colony would be lost. Because Torm would never be able to hold the colonists to his side after this last failure to settle peaceably with Earth.
And the Big Secret? There was the question mark, the key to the whole problem. It kept thrusting itself upon Tuck’s mind, insistently, and he reviewed what David had said about it. It seemed incredible that a plan could have been prepared in absolute secrecy for over a hundred years—and what could possibly take so long? What kind of plan could possibly offer the colony any sort of hope whatsoever?
Slowly, as they bounced along, things began to line themselves up in Tuck’s mind, like the outlines he had made in school. When you have a problem, write down everything you know about it—all the facts in one column, all the unknowns in another column, all possible solutions in another. Then eliminate.
All right. Problem:
The Big Secret—
A plan, a last-ditch plan, an escape, a way out that the colonists could use if they were driven against the wall. Check.
A plan that was guided by a very few people, kept in strict secrecy from the rest. Check again.
A plan that had taken over a hundred years to set in readiness. Check.
A plan that would take care of all five hundred people in the colony, a plan that would allow them to blow up the mines and the colony they had been living in. Check.
Hold it. Slow now. Something was missing there—Tuck shifted his weight as the half-track slid down a grade, then hit the bottom and lurched up again with a roar. A plan, a last-ditch plan, a way out—
A way out that Anson Torm thought was suicide, and risked being branded a traitor to oppose. But Cortell was eager to set it in motion—
A difference of opinion, then. Odd? Very odd. A last-ditch plan that was hazardous, terribly hazardous, but which might work. That made sense! There was great risk involved. It might be a way out, or it might be death. Cortell was willing to gamble; Torm was not—But that meant that it might be a permanent way out for the colonists, if it worked. A way out in utter defiance of Earth—
Tuck chewed his lip. An underground station? Could that possibly, even conceivably, be a permanent way out?
Never. It just didn’t add up.
But what else? A ship to escape in? To escape where? What kind of a ship would carry five hundred people and let them hide out in a Solar System teeming with Security Patrol ships, a ship that would be hunted down to the bitter end. Possible? Even conceivable?
Never. There could be no escape off the planetoid itself. There was no place to go, no place to hide.
But what? Open war against Earth? Even more ridiculous. There were big enough ruthenium stores on Earth to last for several weeks. The colonists would be wiped out, utterly massacred.
Then what was the Big Secret?
It was something big, and something desperate beyond belief.
It was something on Titan.
Therefore—it was something that could he found.
Tuck stared at his father, an impossible plan forming in his mind. His father wouldn’t listen to reason now, he wouldn’t believe anything the colonists told him. Nothing would change his father s attitude at this point but facts—cold, clear, unarguable facts. And there was only one fact that would make much difference. The plan. The true nature of the Big Secret. If Tuck could get back to the colony, somehow, contact David there, there might still be time. Time to find the Big Secret, wherever it was, whatever it was, and bring back the facts to lay before the two men.
Tuck’s heart pounded, and he tensed against the gripping bar, the plan crystallizing in his mind. Carefully he began watching his father drive the half-track. He’d never driven it before, but he seemed to be doing all right, and Tuck had watched David drive it. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. There wasn’t any other vehicle at the ship that could travel over this kind of ground. If it were possible—
After a long, unbearable time, the ’track mounted the last rise, and tumbled over the rim, down into the shallow crater where the Earth ship stood, tall and shiny. Already there was a brightening on the horizon—the night was short, and it was almost dawn. Weird shadows were creeping out of the blacks and grays, showing the surface of the valley in more detail.
“We’ll need some sleep,” the Colonel was saying, “and I think we’d better get it while the getting is good. Well have the men alerted as soon as anything pops, and have them radio for a troopship from Ganymede right now—it can’t be too soon.” He glanced over at Tuck. “And I think you’d better stay on the ship, no matter what happens. I’ve had no right to drag you into this in the first place, particularly since I’ve made such a nice mess of things. And don’t worry too much about your young friend—I’ve a notion he’ll make out all right.”
Tuck nodded, his conscience jabbing him sharply. It was a desperate decision, a desperate chance to take, yet he knew he had to take it. It would mean disobeying his father—but there would be no answer but violence and death if he didn’t do it. And they could find the answer, if only there were time—
The half-track stopped thirty yards from the crane, and the top sprang open with a hiss. The Colonel clambered out, stepping down to the frigid ground. Tuck leaned over the back seat, as though hunting for something in the storage space, his heart beating in his throat, moving as slowly as he dared, until he saw his father start walking away from the half-track. Then, like lightning, Tuck snapped the switch that slammed the hood back down; in the same motion he started the pump at top speed, its motor roaring in his ears. For the briefest instant he caught a glimpse of his father’s face, startled, realization dawning; then he revved up the motor, jerked back on the steering bar, threw the gear into reverse, and felt the vehicle lurch back thirty feet from his father. The Colonel started running toward the vehicle, shouting, and Tuck desperately snapped on the emergency lamp, catching the Colonel full in the face, blinding him for an instant. Then, with a roar, the half-track pivoted, started rolling crazily away from the ship again, headed up the path that led to the colony. Through the back of the hood he saw his father s tiny figure, running after the half-track for a few steps, then stopping, standing still, just staring. And then Tuck wrenched his mind away, forcibly thrust his betrayal out of his mind, concentrated on guiding the lumbering vehicle.