"Think so? Oh, sure, I gave the Hunters a big horselaugh yesterday.
Rayson was around then. And Rayson was a pretty big boy. He knew all
about the Hunters, I'm pretty sure. And I know better than to laugh
about them." He leaned forward.
"I can't prove it, and it wouldn't do too much good if I tried, but I
know perfectly well who's behind not only the Hunters, but a flock of
other criminal gangs--juvenile and adult as well. Think I didn't know I
was talking to a bunch of Hunters when I listened to that rigged story
of theirs about the Keltons? Think I didn't realize Rayson was sitting
there prompting them whenever they started to get confused?" He smiled.
"Maybe I'm stupid, but I'm not that stupid. The reason I was rough on
you was the fact I didn't want you signing any statements that Pete had
hypnotized--or what would you call it--you. That would have fixed the
whole thing and they'd have had him." He coughed.
"And, too, I knew who you were, of course. I didn't know for certain
how you stood, or how much you could do, but you looked good. And it
was pretty obvious you had capabilities." He smiled.
"Some of the retired guardsmen have had sons go sour on them, you know,
so I can't take 'em just on faith. But, as I said, the locker room deal
looked good, and the more you talked, the better I liked it."
"But you----"
"Yeah, I know. I wasn't taking such a chance, though, at that. Truth of
the matter is I'm about as bad as your father. You couldn't make me
give you the right time if I didn't feel like it." Masterson's eyes
crinkled in an amused smile.
"Go ahead. Try it."
Don shook his head. "I'll take your word," he said. "I tried to tell
Dad off once. Somehow, things get a little unpleasant."
"Yeah." Masterson stretched luxuriously. "Anyway, I figured you'd be a
lot handier around here alive and in operating condition. The last
thing I could let happen would be for Rayson to get you on that trick
table of his. Once he got that thing to rocking and rolling, he'd stand
back there, making soothing noises, and almost anyone would break down
and give him all they'd ever known. After that, they'd lie back and
believe anything he felt like telling them." He waved a hand back and
forth as Don started to speak.
"Later, huh? We can discuss all the ins and outs some day when this is
all over. Right now, let's be getting back to business." He smiled
disarmingly and leaned back in his chair.
"Somehow, Stern's hand has got to be forced. He's off balance right
now, and we want him further off. We want him to make a move he can't
back out of. And you may be able to make him do just that."
"I might?"
"Yes. Suppose the hill tribes joined with the Waernu and demanded that
a conclave consider Pete's claim to the throne. What then?"
"I guess there'd be a conclave."
"There might, at that. Now, let's go a little further. Suppose the
Waernu claim were upheld and we got a new king--let's see, he'd drop a
syllable--King Petonar. Where would our friend, Stern, end up?"
Don grinned wolfishly. "Khor Fortress. Even I can figure that much
out."
Masterson stood up and paced around the office.
"So, if we can get Jasu and his son in motion and get them up in the
Morek, something's bound to break. Right?" He stopped in front of Don.
"Oh, of course, Stern might call out the Royal Guard and scream
rebellion. He'd probably do just that, if things went that far. He's
getting in the propaganda groundwork for it now. But what he doesn't
know is that he'd help us that way." He perched on Rayson's desk.
"You see, we've got some colonists that would yell at the top of their
lungs for protection of their interests by the Federation. And then
there would be a conclave--with plenty of supervision. Either way, he'd
get right into checkmate." He clasped one knee in his hands and rocked
back and forth.
"But there's one thing that stands in our way. Jasu Waern's scared to
death. We've never quite dared explain this whole thing to him, and now
no one can get near enough to talk to him. Harle was the clan head and
the one with the nerve. He's gone, and Jasu's holed up. Won't let his
son out of the house. Won't let anyone in. We can't move."
He got back to his feet and walked over to the window.
"Now, let's take some more suppositions. Suppose a flier went out of
control and crashed in the middle of the Waern house. Or suppose some
major criminal took refuge close to the place and decided to shoot it
out with the Enforcement Corps. Seems to be a habit criminals have
gotten into lately. And suppose a stray inductor beam just happened to
graze the Waern living room.
"Then, who's checkmated?"
He looked down at his chair, then walked over and dropped into it.
"There's only one way to get Jasu in motion. You're it. The way you
slammed Rayson back in his chair yesterday gave me an idea. You can get
in there, and you'll have to move him--by force--compulsion--however
you want to.
"Meantime, I'll get some things going. Your father can start the hill
tribes getting together. He knows all the important head men. I'll give
him a little push in that direction. Then, we'll get some more people
to work."
Don looked at him for a moment. "Well, Dad told me I'd probably have to
earn my keep. Anything else I ought to know?"
* * * * *
Jasu Waern looked up in annoyance, then got to his feet.
"Who are you?" he demanded. "How did you get in here?" He reached into
a pocket.
Don Michaels spread his hands away from his body.
"Leave that weapon alone," he said sharply. "I came as a friend, and
I'd hate to have someone shooting at me."
"But who are you?"
"I'm Donald Michaels. I want to talk to Pete ... Petoen, I should say."
"My son is seeing no one. There has been----"
"I know," interrupted Don. "Trouble. Listen, I've had trouble myself in
the past couple of days. It all started when I prevented a bunch of
roughnecks from slapping Pete around." He frowned.
"Since then, things haven't been too pleasant." He held up a finger.
"I got accused of falsifying my report on the affair in the locker
room. Pete didn't show up to testify, and everyone was looking at me."
He extended a second finger.
"Pressure was put on me to sign a statement saying Pete used mental
influence to make me put in a false statement. And I got into it with
the school psychologist." A third finger snapped out.
"Next thing, I was being accused of accepting a money bribe from Pete.
And I really got into it with the faculty advisor. That's not good." He
dropped his hands to his sides.
"Right now, I'm not too popular at school. And I want to know what's
going on. I want to know why Pete didn't show up to give me backing. I
want to know what can be done to unscramble this mess."
Wearn shook his head slowly. "There are other schools--private
schools," he said. "And we are still possessed of some----"
"Careful, Mr. Waern." Don held up a warning hand. "I don't carry the
sling, but I do come from the Morek. Don't say something that might be
misinterpreted. I want to see things straightened out. I didn't come
here to start a feud with you."
Jasu Waern shivered a little. "But you are galactic, are you not?
Surely, you are no hillman."
"I was brought up among them. Now get Pete. I want to talk to both of
you."
Waern looked unhappy. But he walked across the room and pulled at a
cord.
A servant came to the door.
"Tell Master Petoen," ordered Waern, "that I would like to see him in
here."
The man bowed and left. Waern turned back to Don.
"You see, Mr. Michaels," he said apologetically, "we are in difficult
times here. My brother----"
"I know." Don nodded. "Pete was upset the other evening. He told me a
little. A little more than is made public."