"A wall! Any idea how many man-hours that would take, Cliff?"
"That's not the point."
Rod looked around the alluvial flat, several times as large as the land enclosed in the city walls. A thorn fence, possibly, but not a wall, not yet... Cliff's ambitions were too big. "Look, let's comb the field for stobor, then send the others back. You and I can figure out afterwards what can be done."
"All right. But tell them to watch where they put their big feet."
Rod spread them in skirmish line with himself in the
center. "Keep dressed up," he warned, "and don't let any get past you. Remember, every one we kill now means six less on S-Day."
They moved forward. Kenny made a kill, Jimmy immediately made two more. The stobor hardly tried to escape, being in the "dopy joe" phase of their cycle.
Rod paused to spear one and looked up to speak to the man on his right. But there was no one there. "Hold it! Where's Mick?"
"Huh? Why, he was right here a second ago."
Rod looked back. Aside from a shimmer over the hot field, there was nothing where Mick should have been. Something must have sneaked up in the grass, pulled him down- "Watch it, everybody! Something's wrong. Close in... and keep your eyes peeled." He turned back, moved diagonally toward where Mick had disappeared.
Suddenly two figures appeared in front of his eyes- Mick and a stranger.
A stranger in coveralls and shoes... The man looked around, called over his shoulder, "Okay, Jake! Put her on automatic and clamp it." He glanced toward Rod but did not seem to see him, walked toward him, and disappeared.
With heart pounding Rod began to run. He turned and found himself facing into an open gate... and down a long, closed corridor.
The man in the coveralls stepped into the frame. "Everybody back off," he ordered. "We're going to match in with the Gap. There may be local disturbance."
15. In Achilles' Tent
It had been a half hour since Mick had stumbled through the gate as it had focused, fallen flat in the low gravity of Luna. Rod was trying to bring order out of confusion, trying to piece together his own wits. Most of the villagers were out on the field, or sitting on top of the wall, watching technicians set up apparatus to turn the locus into a permanent gate, with controls and communications on both sides. Rod tried to tell one that they were exposed, that they should not run around unarmed; without looking up the man had said, "Speak to Mr. Johnson."
He found Mr. Johnson, tried again, was interrupted. Will you kids please let us work? We're glad to see you but we've got to get a power fence around this area. No telling what might be in that tall grass."
Oh," Rod answered. "Look, I'll set guards. We know what to expect. I'm in ch-"
'Beat it, will you? You kids mustn't be impatient."
So Rod went back inside his city, hurt and angry. Several strangers came in, poked around as if they owned the place, spoke to the excited villagers, went out again. One stopped to look at Jimmy's drum, rapped it and laughed. Rod wanted to strangle him.
"Rod?"
"Uh?" He whirled around. "Yes, Margery?"
"Do I cook lunch, or don't I? All my girls have left and Mel says its silly because we'll all be gone by lunch time- and I don't know what to do."
"Huh? Nobody's leaving... that I know of."
"Well, maybe not but that's the talk."
He was not given time to consider this as one of the ubiquitous strangers came up and said briskly, "Can you tell me where to find a lad named Roderick Welker?"
"Walker," Rod corrected. "I'm Rod Walker. What do you want?"
"My name is Sansom, Clyde B. Sansom- Administrative Officer in the Emigration Control Service. Now, Welker, I understand you are group leader for these students. You can-"
"I am Mayor of Cowpertown," Rod said stonily. "What do you want?"
"Yes, yes, that's what the youngster called you. 'Mayor.'" Sansom smiled briefly and went on. "Now, Walker, we want to keep things orderly. I know you are anxious to get out of your predicament as quickly as possible- but we must do things systematically. We are going to make it easy- just delousing and physical examination, followed by psychological tests and a relocation interview. Then you will all be free to return to your homes- after signing a waiver-of-liability form, but the legal officer will take care of that. If you will have your little band line up alphabetically- uh, here in this open space, I think, then I will-" He fumbled with his briefcase.
"Who the deuce are you to give orders around here?"
Sansom looked surprised. "Eh? I told you. If you want to be technical, I embody the authority of the Terran Corporation. I put it as a request- but under field conditions I can compel co-operation, you know."
Rod felt himself turn red. "I don't know anything of the sort! You may be a squad of angels back on Terra but you are in Cowpertown."
Mr. Sansom looked interested but not impressed. "And what, may I ask, is Cowpertown?"
"Huh? This is Cowpertown, a Sovereign nation, with its own constitution, its own laws- and its own territory." Rod took a breath. "If the Terran Corporation wants anything, they can send somebody and arrange it. But don't tell us to line up alphabetically!"
"Atta boy, Roddie!"
Rod said, "Stick around, Carol," then added to Sansom, "Understand me?"
"Do I understand," Sansom said slowly, "that you are suggesting that the Corporation should appoint an ambassador to your group?"
"Well... that's the general idea."
"Mmmm... an interesting theory, Welker."
"'Walker.' And until you do, you can darn well clear the sightseers out- and get out yourself. We aren't a zoo."
Sansom looked at Rod's ribs, glanced at his dirty, calloused feet and smiled. Rod said, "Show him out, Carol. Put him out, if you have to."
"Yes, sirr' She advanced on Sansom, grinning.
"Oh, I'm leaving," Sansom said quickly. "Better a delay than a mistake in protocol. An ingenious theory, young man. Good-by. We shall see each other later. Uh... a word of advice? May I?"
Huh? All right."
"Don't take yourself too seriously. Ready, young lady?"
Rod stayed in his hut. He wanted badly to see what was going on beyond the wall, but he did not want to run into Sansom. So he sat and gnawed his thumb and thought. Apparently some weak sisters were going back -wave a dish of ice cream under their noses and off they would trot, abandoning their land, throwing away all they had built up. Well, he wouldn't! This was home, his place, he had earned it; he wasn't going back and maybe wait half a lifetime for a chance to move to some other planet probably not as good.
Let them go! Cowpertown would be better and stronger without them.
Maybe some just wanted to make a visit, show off grandchildren to grandparents, then come back. Probably...in which case they had better make sure that Sansom or somebody gave them written clearance to come back. Maybe he ought to warn them.
But he didn't have anyone to visit. Except Sis- and Sis might be anywhere- unlikely that she was on Terra.
Bob and Carmen, carrying Hope, came in to say good-by. Rod shook hands solemnly. "You're coming back, Bob, when you get your degree... aren't you?"
"Well, we hope so, if possible. If we are permitted to."
"Who's going to stop you? It's your right. And when you do, you'll find us here. In the meantime we'll try not to break legs."
Baxter hesitated. "Have you been to the gate lately, Rod?"