"Did as the old books instruct," Rasmussen said. "Bracketed the Hog
with two shells. Third round killed him! Forgot the recoil that time.
Cannon broke my leg." The old man's brown face had turned a sickly,
greenish white.
"Where did you get this canner, uh, cannon?" I said.
Rasmussen moaned, tried to sit up, and sank back on his elbows. "Is
what you saw when grounding in the shuttle."
Toal brought a stout pole, and we piled rocks for a fulcrum. I pushed
one end of the pole through the wheel spokes and under the axle.
Rasmussen said, "Maximum Eijkman had it built in secret. Could have
shot the Hog weeks ago. Eijkman had dreams of changing our government
into something strange. Himself as head."
Toal and I threw our weight on the lever. The wheel lifted. Rasmussen
crawled sideways. We eased the cannon to the ground.
I said, "Galactic Government forbids private planets to make such
weapons."
Rasmussen gasped, "Nonsense. Was required to protect us from native
life."