For a jail cell, the chamber was quite commodious. The walls were
of bare stone, like most of the buildings on Greenhaven which Maria
Ringstad had visited during her short period of sightseeing. She
thought that it must have entailed a great deal of extra labor to
provide such large rooms in a stone building, especially when the
materials had to be quarried by relatively primitive means.
On Greenhaven, everything had evidently been done the hard way. She
had heard about that facet of the Greenie character before leaving the
ship, and she now wished that she had listened more carefully. It was
difficult to picture in her mind just how far away that spaceship was
by this time.
That had been the worst, the feeling of having been abandoned.
Meanwhile, having turned up her nose at the sewing chores they had
assigned to her but having nothing else to occupy her, she sat on the
edge of the austere wooden shelf that doubled as a bed and a bench. The
Greenie guard standing in the doorway looked as if he had expected to
find the sewing done.
"Can't you understand, honey?" said Maria lightly. "You can cart that
basket of rags away. I have no intention of sticking my fingers with
those crude needles you people use."
The Greenie was a short, sturdy young man, uniformed in the drabbest of
dun-colored clothing. A shirt with a high, tight collar starched like
cardboard held his chin at a dignified elevation. It also seemed to
keep his eyes wide open, Maria thought, unless that was his naturally
naive expression.
"Did anyone ever tell you those hats would make good spittoons?" she
asked.
"It is forbidden to speak vainly of any correction official," said the
young man stiffly.
"Correction official!" echoed Maria. "Look, honey, don't kid with me! I
bet you're just a janitor here. If I thought you were a real official,
who might be cuddled into letting me out of this cage, I'd be a lot
more friendly."
She gave him an amiable grin. It was not returned.
The Greenie stood gripping the thick edge of the blank wooden door
until his knuckles whitened. He looked like a man who had just
discovered a worm in his apple. Half a worm, in fact.
"Now, I may be pushing thirty-five," said Maria, "but I _know_ I don't
look _that_ bad. Actually, alongside your Greenie girls, I stack up
pretty well, don't you think? For one thing, I'm shorter than you are.
For another, I fill out my clothes and don't look like a skinny old
horse."
"You ... you ... are not ... dressed as an honest woman," the guard got
out.
Sitting on the edge of the wooden bunk, Maria crossed her knees--and
thought he would choke. She tugged slightly at the short skirt that had
attracted so many lowering stares when she had strolled down the main
street of First Haven. She was used to being among men, but this poor
soul was outside her experience.
Maria Ringstad was aware of both her visual shortcomings and
attractions. After a month here, her hair was beginning to grow in
darker and less auburn. She was a trifle solid for her five-feet-four,
but that came of having a durable frame. Her face was squarish, with
a determined nose, and her hazel eyes looked green in some lights. On
the other hand, she had a nice smile, and she had spent much time in
places where few women went. She was used to being popular with the
opposite sex, even in face of competition from members of her own. In
the Greenie women, with their voluminous, drab dresses and hangdog
expressions devoid of the least make-up, she saw little competition.
"Really," she said, "no one else would think of me as a criminal. I
just tried to buy a picture in that little shop. Then the heavens fell
in on me."
"The heavens do not fall on Greenhaven," said the guard firmly.
"Well, anyway, some very sour characters trumped up all sorts of
charges against me, and here I am. But I didn't _do_ anything!"
"The attempt is equal to the deed!"
Maria shook her head and sighed. She stood up and took a few steps
toward him.
"You must keep your place," ordered the young man, with an undercurrent
of panic in his tone. "I have not come to debate justice with you. You
have sinned and you have been sentenced."
_I bet he'd faint if I threw my arms around him_, thought Maria.
"But what was the sin, honey?" she demanded. "You'd think I'd written a
bad article about Greenhaven for my syndicate. Honestly, I didn't even
have time to see the place."
The young man released the edge of the door, but still looked worried.
"Greenhaven was founded by colonists who sought liberty and were
willing to create a haven for it by the sweat of their brows," he
informed her. "Conditions were inhospitable. There were plagues to test
their faith and ungainly beasts to test their courage. What has been
built here has been built by a great communal struggle, and it is not
to be hazarded by the sinful attitudes of old Terra, and--you should
have paid the listed price."
"But he wouldn't sell me one at that price when I offered it!"
"Then he did not have one. You attempted to bribe him."
"Well, it was just a friendly offer," said Maria, straightening her
skirt. "It didn't amount to anything."
"On the contrary, it amounted to bribery, immorality, and economic
subversion. Procedures such as purchase and merchandising must be
strictly regulated for the good of the community. We cannot permit
chaos to intrude upon the peace of Greenhaven."
"You know, honey," she remarked, studying him with her head cocked to
one side, "you talk like a book. A very old book."
The guard rolled his eyes toward the hall. He relaxed for the first
time, in order to lean back and listen to something in the corridor.
"I must caution you to cease addressing me as 'honey,'" he said in a
lower voice. "I hear the steps of my superior."
Maria laughed, a silvery ripple that made the young man grit his teeth.
"Maybe he's jealous," she suggested. "Or bored. What do you fellows
have to do, anyway, except go around handing out cell work and picking
it up?"
"There is no place on Greenhaven for idle hands," said the young man,
eyeing the untouched sewing with disapproval.
"Isn't there ever any excitement? How often does someone try to escape?"
"It is forbidden to escape," said the guard soberly. He looked as if he
wished that he himself could escape.
Heavy steps halted outside the door of the cell to signal the arrival
of the chief warden. The latter turned a severely inquiring stare upon
the young man, who hastily stepped aside to admit his chief.
"Have you been conversing with the prisoner?" asked the older man.
He was clad in a similar uniform with, perhaps, a slightly higher
collar. His dark-browed features reflected greater age and asceticism.
Otherwise, Maria thought ruefully, there was little to choose between
them. He seemed to have a chilling effect upon the guard.
"Only in the line of duty, sir," the young man responded.
The warden spotted the basket of undone work. He frowned.
"This should have been attended to long ago," he said. "What excuse can
there be?"
Maria planted both hands on her hips.
"Plenty!" she announced. "In the first place, you have no right to hold
a Terran citizen in a hole like this. In the second, that ridiculous
five year sentence is going to be appealed and cancelled as soon as the
Terran consul gets things moving."
"That is at least doubtful," retorted the warden, favoring her with
a wintry smile which raised the corners of his mouth an eighth of an
inch. "Meanwhile, there are methods we can use to enforce obedience.
Would you rather I summon some of the women of the staff?"
"I'd rather you'd explain to me what was so awful about trying to buy a
picture of the city in that little shop? If they weren't for tourists
to buy, why did they have them?"
"Such nonsensical objects are provided for tourists and others who
must from time to time be admitted to Greenhaven. That does not excuse
flouting our laws and seeking to cause dissatisfaction through the
example of bribery. The city of First Haven has been wrung from the
wilderness, but the struggle to complete our building of the colony
must not be hindered or subverted. It is necessary--"
"Aw, hell! You talk like a book too!" exclaimed Maria.
The two men stared at her, silent, wide-eyed, utterly shocked at this
open evidence of dementia.
"The price list is sacred to you," she snapped, "but it's all right to
put that junk on sale to clip the tourists, isn't it? Why doesn't that
strike you as being immoral? They're no good, but their money is, is
that it?"
She turned and stalked back to the shelf-bed, where she sat down and
deliberately crossed her legs.
"You will not be required further," the warden told the young man. "See
that you spread not the plague by repeating any of this Jezebel's loose
talk!"
The guard left hurriedly. Maria discovered the warden gaping at her
knees, and defiantly tossed her head.
"You never see a leg before?" she demanded. "Or are all the Greenie
girls bowlegged? Is that why they wear those horrible Mother Hubbards?"
She gave her skirt a malicious twitch, revealing a few more inches of
firm thigh. The warden began to turn red. He muttered something that
actually sounded closer to a prayer than a curse, and turned his eyes
away.
"I hope those in authority will yield to the importunities of your
depraved fellow who calls himself the Terran consul, and sullies the
clean air of Greenhaven by his very--I hope they do deport you!"
"Oh, honey! Could you arrange it?" cried Maria, leaping up and
advancing on him.
She grabbed him just above the elbows, and he broke her hold by
sweeping both hands upward and outward. This offered Maria the
opportunity to take a double grip upon his belt. When he lowered his
hands to free himself, she threw both arms about his neck.
"I knew someone could fix things up!" she exclaimed. "You're going to
let me out of here until they decide what ship to put me on, aren't
you?"
The warden's expression was horror-stricken. With a heavy effort, he
got both hands against her and shoved. Maria staggered back all the way
to the bunk. The warden, apparently not quite sure what he had done,
looked down at his hands. He turned them palm up, then, as his gaze met
Maria's, made as if to thrust them behind his back.
"Relax, honey," she said. "You were a little high. I don't imagine you
have any laws here against shoving a lady on her can--as long as you're
careful where you shove."
"May the Founders protect me from a forward woman!" breathed the
warden. "Will you be still and listen to me, Jezebel? Or would you
continue ignorant of the news I brought?"
"What news?"
"I am instructed to inform you that you have an official visitor. Do
you wish to see him?"
Maria shoved herself away from the edge of the bunk and assumed a
dignified stance. She tugged her clothing into order.
"I should be most honored to receive this visitor," she said in
her best imitation of Greenie formality. "I deeply appreciate your
announcing his presence--at last!"
The warden glared at her. Finding no words worthy of the state of his
blood pressure, he stepped back and slammed the heavy door shut. It
muffled somewhat his departing footsteps.
"I'm out!" yipped Maria.
She did a little jig, ran to the door to press an ear against it, and
turned to survey the cell with the fingers of one hand beating a light
tattoo against her lips.
She crossed to the bunk. From beneath it, she dragged the small
overnight bag she had succeeded in obtaining from the ship before
it had left for the next planet. She began to go about the room,
collecting the few odds and ends she possessed and packing them.
She was fingering the bristles of her toothbrush for dampness when she
heard returning footsteps.
_The hell with brushing my hair_, she thought. _I'll go as is._
She threw the toothbrush into the bag, tossed her hairbrush on top, and
snapped the catch. She considered herself ready.
The door opened and the warden ushered another man into the cell. Maria
felt a sudden chill.
The newcomer was a Greenie.
She looked over his shoulder, hoping for a glimpse of the Terran
consul, but there were just the two Greenies facing her. The stranger
was nearer in age to the young guard than to the warden. On the other
hand, the severity of his expression was a challenge to the older man.
The uniform was about the same.
"My name is John Willard," he announced flatly.
He reached into an inner pocket to produce a fold of papers. At the
edge of one, Maria caught sight of what she guessed to be an official
seal. Willard opened the papers and turned to the warden.
"You identify the prisoner before us as one Maria Ringstad, native of
Terra?"
"I do!" said the warden, righteously.
"You will please sign this statement to that effect!"
There was silence in the cell as the warden held the document against
the door to scribble his signature. Maria watched in growing chagrin.
Willard folded the statement of identification, returned it to his
pocket, and faced her.
"Maria Ringstad," he said, "I am to inform you that your appeal has
been denied. You will accompany me to Corrective Farm Number Five,
where I will deliver you to the authorities who will supervise the
serving of your sentence."
Maria dropped her bag.
"_What?_ You're lying! Let me see those phony papers! This is some sort
of--"
Willard let her have the back of his left hand across the face. Maria
never saw it until she was falling. She sat down with a thump, her legs
stretched out straight before her.
Unbelievingly, she watched Willard sign a copy of his order for the
warden. The latter examined it with satisfaction before tucking it
away. They turned to look down at her, and Willard announced that he
was ready to leave.
He seemed to think that a good way to forestall an argument was to get
her moving as quickly as possible. He yanked on one elbow, the warden
pulled on the other, and Maria headed for the door at a smart trot,
wondering how she had risen.
"My bag!" she protested.
"I have it," said Willard.
"Turn left for the stairs," said the warden.
"I'm not going!" she yelled.
"Yes, you are," said Willard.
"Yes, you are!" echoed the warden.
They reached the head of the stairs, where the warden released his
grip. Willard shoved her forward, and the two of them descended with
breakneck lack of balance. At the bottom, they paused for the warden to
catch up.
Maria seized the chance to kick Willard in the shin. He turned white,
but urged her on as the warden led the way through a barred door into
an open courtyard. They crossed the courtyard by fits and starts, with
Maria expressing her opinion in words she had never before uttered.
The meaning of certain of them still eluded her, but Willard seemed to
understand the general drift.
The warden spoke to a guard, ordering him to open the main gate.
Willard boosted her through with a knee in the behind. The massive
portal swung to with a thud, leaving them out in the street.
"I'll be damned if I go to any prison farm!" Maria shouted in his ear.
"I demand to see the Terran consul! This is an outrage!"
Willard glared at a passing Greenie who seemed disposed to look on.
He tightened his grip on Maria's arm, the better to tow her twenty
feet down the street away from the gate. There, he backed her roughly
against the blank granite wall.
"If you don't shut your face," he growled between set teeth, "I'll
_really_ belt you one!"
Maria gasped in a breath and looked at him. It was easy, since he had
thrust his face to within a few inches of hers. Little droplets of
perspiration stood out on his forehead.
He looked scared.