The big Fleetman clapped his hand to his hip. There was no gun
holstered there, but Joe reared back in a dismayed reflex.... In the
next moment the Fleetman slumped to the pavement, where he lay quite
still.
That was all--for a moment.
The Fleet Police looked at Joe and they looked down at the Fleetman.
Then they looked back at Joe. One of them stooped down and remained
there for a long minute. He rose, and his face was white.
"The guy's dead," he said, and his shock stick came up, pointing at
Joe. "You do that?" he snapped.
"He didn't touch the guy," Grey said.
"Maybe yes and maybe no. Guys don't just drop and die. I think both of
you'd better come."
* * * * *
At the Fleet Police headquarters the medic turned pale when he examined
the body. A number of urgent calls were made. The Canopan liaison
officer arrived after a nasty fifteen minutes during which the doctor
and the Fleet Police Commandant argued violently and then stood staring
blackly at the floor.
Grey's eyes widened when behind the Canopan there stalked not only the
commanding officer of his ship, but the Commandant of the entire Fleet
Base.
"The joint's lousy with brass tonight," he flashed silently at Joe as
the two of them stood rigidly at attention. "I think you've become
notorious."
He caught a sense of amusement from an undetermined source, and in a
moment narrowed it down as coming from the Canopan liaison officer.
Good for our side, Grey thought in relief--at least Canopan officers
kept their minds unbound by brass. They'd stand behind Joe.
The Fleet Base Commandant knifed Joe with a rigid stare. He spoke
rapidly and bitingly. "It is difficult enough to keep harmony among the
various planetary groups at the base without it becoming know that the
Canopans can kill Terrans by their mental powers. You have been trained
in self-control. By this incident tonight you have jeopardized the
morale of all the troops in the region."
The Canopan officer put in gently, "This was clearly a case of
self-defense. The Fleetman was drawing a gun."
"Unfortunately for that argument," stated the Commandant, "the Fleetman
was not carrying a gun."
"But this 34C could not see in the first instant. His attention was
on the thoughts which the Fleetman transmitted at that moment. The
Fleetman forgot he was not wearing a sidearm, and in his mind there was
the distinct picture of drawing his gun and shooting 34C. To 34C this
was the reality of the moment. In his extreme nervousness he misjudged
the force needed, and projected a lethal thought."
"A pretty legality," the Base Commandant growled. "Is it self-defense
when you kill a person for _thinking_ that he is about to kill you?"
"I know nothing of your law," the Canopan replied. "We have warned that
an incident such as this was bound to occur sooner or later in the
tense atmosphere of this town. May I suggest...."
"I know, I know." The Commandant passed a hand through his hair in
disgust. "Your ideas about orienting the entire fleet. Subconscious
psychological training ... still sounds like hypnotism to me. But if we
must, then we must."
"And you, Jeffreys." He turned to Grey's ship-commander. "You're taking
off tomorrow. You wouldn't want to lose a team, would you?"
"Certainly not, sir." Grey caught the relief in the commander's mind.
"They're a good team."
"Then as far as anybody is concerned there has been no incident
tonight." The Commandant turned to the medic. "Get that?"
Commander Jeffreys motioned to Joe and Grey. "You two will return to
the base with me."
Grey nodded mutely and began to follow the commander out of the
door, his attention focussed upon an idea which had sprung into his
consciousness during the past minute.
"Look, Joe," he thought. "If you can do that to a Terran, what could
you do to one of the enemy?"