The door gave way with a sudden blast that threw them all to the floor.
In the smoking entrance a robot appeared. With an effort, Samson forced
himself erect and leveled his blaster.
Before he could fire, Arthur leaped at the man, wrenched the weapon
from his fingers. Then the robot was in the room, then another, and
another, their forehead-rays ready for instant use. There was no escape.
"Arthur!" Julie cried hoarsely.
"_There's_ your WBI man," Samson accused.
Arthur smiled crookedly and held on to the blaster in his hand. He did
not look at Julie, for there was silent contempt and shame in her eyes.
* * * * *
The trial was short and simple, for justice had ceased to be a
complicated thing and was governed by facts considered in the light of
pre-established premises. To offset any possibility of human error,
a great machine unemotionally sifted and weighed facts presented to
it and arrived at a decision. Either those accused were guilty or
they were not guilty, and obviously they were, so the trial itself
and Arthur's testimony were matters of formality. The prisoners were,
of course, duly convicted and sentenced to life on the Lunar Prison
Colony, where life was rumored to be not long.
However, an unexpected development arose. The Court, it seems, had fed
also into the machine various newly discovered facts concerning Arthur
Dunlop, and the machine, with a figurative eye prefocused on State
security, had arrived at a further pronouncement.
"You are to be commended," the Court said, as spokesman for the
machine, "for your excellent work as a member of the World Bureau
of Investigation. However, there is a little matter of a radio set
concealed in your home--"
Arthur's face went white. Helen, he thought. That movement in the
darkness--she hadn't been asleep! Of course. She was loyal to the
cause, even to the extent of betraying her husband; perhaps she even
suspected about Julie. He almost laughed aloud.
"But that was for emergency use," he pleaded, knowing it would do no
good, "to contact the WBI when necessary."
"That may be," the Court conceded. "However, it was unauthorized, and
it is even possible that its use might be harmful to the State. Until
we can investigate further, you will be sentenced to a temporary term
of one year on the Lunar Prison Colony, after which your case will be
automatically up for review. I understand you applied for Lunar duty.
This will give you an excellent opportunity to become acquainted with
conditions firsthand."
The Court's gavel fell, an archaic but effective symbol of the passing
of judgment. He did not look at the other prisoners who sat gloating
nearby, even in the losing of their cause. Strange, Arthur Dunlop
thought almost unemotionally, the way things had turned out....
* * * * *
The Lunar Prison ship came down out of the sky like a gray-metal
coffin, settling with infinite slowness to the dock where the prisoners
waited silently. The airlock opened and a gangplank stretched its
finger towards them. A blond uniformed man strode from the ship, his
Captain's bars glinting in the afternoon sunlight.
The Earthguard came forward, holding out a list of names. "Some
additions to your labor camp, my dear Captain," he said jovially.
"And welcome they'll be," the Captain said, an indefinable glint in his
eyes. "We have a lot of work to accomplish up there."
"So I've heard," the guard said.
The Captain smiled. "You haven't heard the half of it," he said,
winking, and the guard guffawed.
"All right, all right," Samson growled irritably. "If we're going,
let's go."
"Patience, friend," the blond Captain admonished. "Right this way now,
that's right, through the airlock, take your seats as I call them off.
Dunlop, one; Samson, two; Austen, three...."
Arthur filed silently into the spaceship, Samson and Julie and the
others behind him. He took a seat and looked around.
He cried out at what he saw, and then Samson's hands were upon his
neck, squeezing with the fury of a man possessed by one thought. He
felt his breath being cut off, the room darken. They fell into the
aisle. He could hear shouts of vengeance around him, and he thought he
heard Julie's frantic voice telling them to stop. Julie--
The airlock clanged with awful finality, and there was a sickening rush
as the spaceship darted aloft. Uncushioned bodies flew, and Arthur felt
the pressure on his throat ease.
He blinked open his eyes, forced himself erect. The blond Captain was
bending over him. "You okay?"
"Still alive, George," he said, massaging his throat, "but I think we'd
better tell them before I need a new head."
"George?" Julie said, puzzled. "You two know each other?"
"We were in the war together," the Captain said.
Arthur rose unsteadily. "I'd like you people to meet my best friend,
George Keating."
"But--"
"We decided some time ago that Earth is no place for an underground
movement," Arthur said. "There's too much secrecy, too much danger
involved in the slightest movement away from the established pattern.
People are too involved with the Super State idea and the dangers to
their own particular skins." Like my wife, Helen, he thought to himself.
"There's one place, though," George Keating supplied, "where the
inhabitants are in perfect accord with overthrowing the government as
it now exists."
"Where?" Samson asked skeptically.
"Where else," Arthur told him, smiling, "but the Moon, on the prison
colony where people were sent because they didn't like the way
things were turning out politically and otherwise on Earth. It was a
comparatively simple matter to replace the guards with our own group."
"Then," Julie exclaimed, "then you were in on this all the time. It was
part of a plan."
Arthur nodded. "All except Helen's turning me in, which was unexpected
but just as well I suppose. We're almost ready for the ultimatum, and
we wanted this group to aid us, which is why I betrayed you. We could
have whisked you away secretly, but there was greater danger in that
and the disappearance of an individual, much less a group, couldn't
go unnoticed in that society. Besides, this way they'll be more
complacent."
"As I told that guard," Keating added, "we've still got a lot of work
to do, chiefly on the other side of the Moon where Earth can't see--put
the finishing touches on spaceships we've been building, assemble the
weapons and the guided missiles. A lot of work. We may not have to use
them--I hope we don't--but they'll be ready, just in case."
Samson wet his lips. "It's a big project," he said testily.
"Of course," Arthur admitted, smiling. He indicated a porthole. "But
look at Earth down there."
They crowded to see. It was a large green ball, glowing iridescently,
becoming smaller as they approached the prison colony that was not a
prison colony. Julie shrank into Arthur's arms.
"It's beautiful," she said.
Austen said, "Why, it looks fragile, like you could reach out from here
and--and smash it." There was awe and wonder in his voice.
"You can," Keating said, "if necessary." His eyes narrowed. "It's a
perfect target, a sitting duck from the sky. Who owns the Moon controls
Earth."
"I'd like to apologize," Samson said, offering his outstretched hand to
Arthur.
"Me, too," Julie said.
"I'll accept both apologies," Arthur Dunlop said, "but from you, Julie,
I won't settle for a handshake."
Julie took the hint.
"We have a lot of time yet, so we may as well all relax," Keating
announced. "Arthur and I can brief you on the situation as it stands."
He grinned. "If he ever comes up for air!"
* * * * *
They laughed the laughter of free men and gazed through the porthole at
their destination. The bright face of the Moon floated towards them.
Behind them, the Earth hung at peace--unsuspecting that anything had
changed.