Lone Star Planet

by John Joseph McGuire and H. Beam Piper

  CHAPTER VI

  It was early evening before we finally managed to get away from thebarbecue. Thrombley had called the Embassy and told them not to waitdinner for us, so the staff had finished eating and were relaxing in thepatio when our car came in through the street gate. Stonehenge andanother man came over to meet us as we got out--a man I hadn't metbefore.

  He was a little fellow, half-Latin, half-Oriental; in New Texas costumeand wearing a pair of pistols like mine, in State Department SpecialServices holsters. He didn't look like a Dumbarton Oaks product: Ithought he was more likely an alumnus of some private detective agency.

  "Mr. Francisco Parros, our Intelligence man," Stonehenge introduced him.

  "Sorry I wasn't here when you arrived, Mr. Silk," Parros said. "Outchecking on some things. But I saw that bit of shooting, on the telecastscreen in a bar over town. You know, there was a camera right over thebandstand that caught the whole thing--you and Miss Hickock comingtoward the President and his party, Miss Hickock running forward to herfather, the waiter going up behind Hutchinson with the knife, and thenthat beautiful draw and snap shot. They ran it again a couple of timeson the half-hourly newscast. Everybody in New Austin, maybe on NewTexas, is talking about it, now."

  "Yes, indeed, sir," Gomez, the Embassy Secretary, said, joining us."You've made yourself more popular in the eight hours since you landedthan poor Mr. Cumshaw had been able to do in the ten years he spenthere. But, I'm afraid, sir, you've given me a good deal of work,answering your fan-mail."

  We went over and sat down at one of the big tables under the arches atthe side of the patio.

  "Well, that's all to the good," I said. "I'm going to need a lot oflocal good will, in the next few weeks. No thanks, Mr. Parros," I added,as the Intelligence man picked up a bottle and made to pour for me."I've been practically swimming in superbourbon all afternoon. A littleblack coffee, if you don't mind. And now, gentlemen, if you'll all beseated, we'll see what has to be done."

  "A council of war, in effect, Mr. Ambassador?" Stonehenge inquired.

  "Let's call it a council to estimate the situation. But I'll have tofind out from you first exactly what the situation here is."

  Thrombley stirred uneasily. "But sir, I confess that I don't understand.Your briefing on Luna...."

  "Was practically nonexistent. I had a total of six hours to get aboardship, from the moment I was notified that I had been appointed to thisEmbassy."

  "Incredible!" Thrombley murmured.

  I wondered what he'd say if I told him that I thought it wasdeliberate.

  "Naturally, I spent some time on the ship reading up on this planet, butI know practically nothing about what's been going on here in, say, thelast year. And all I know about the death of Mr. Cumshaw is that he issaid to have been killed by three brothers named Bonney."

  "So you'll want just about everything, Mr. Silk," Thrombley said."Really, I don't know where to begin."

  "Start with why and how Mr. Cumshaw was killed. The rest, I believe,will key into that."

  So they began; Thrombley, Stonehenge and Parros doing the talking. Itcame to this:

  Ever since we had first established an Embassy on New Texas, the goal ofour diplomacy on this planet had been to secure it into the SolarLeague. And it was a goal which seemed very little closer to realizationnow than it had been twenty-three years before.

  "You must know, by now, what politics on this planet are like, Mr.Silk," Thrombley said.

  "I have an idea. One Ambassador gone native, another gone crazy, thethird killed himself, the fourth murdered."

  "Yes, indeed. I've been here fifteen years, myself...."

  "That's entirely too long for anybody to be stationed in this place," Itold him. "If I'm not murdered, myself, in the next couple of weeks, I'mgoing to see that you and any other member of this staff who's been hereover ten years are rotated home for a tour of duty at DepartmentHeadquarters."

  "Oh, would you, Mr. Silk? I would be so happy...."

  Thrombley wasn't much in the way of an ally, but at least he had asound, selfish motive for helping me stay alive. I assured him I wouldget him sent back to Luna, and then went on with the discussion.

  Up until six months ago, Silas Cumshaw had modeled himself after thetypical New Texas politician. He had always worn at least two faces, andhad always managed to place himself on every side of every issue atonce. Nothing he ever said could possibly be construed as controversial.Naturally, the cause of New Texan annexation to the Solar League hadmade no progress whatever.

  Then, one evening, at a banquet, he had executed a complete 180-degreeturn, delivering a speech in which he proclaimed that union with theSolar League was the only possible way in which New Texans could retaineven a vestige of local sovereignty. He had talked about an invasion asthough the enemy's ships were already coming out of hyperspace, and hadnamed the invader, calling the z'Srauff "our common enemy." The z'SrauffAmbassador, also present, had immediately gotten up and stalked out,amid a derisive chorus of barking and baying from the New Texans. TheNew Texans were first shocked and then wildly delighted; they had beenso used to hearing nothing but inanities and high-order abstractionsfrom their public figures that the Solar League Ambassador had become ahero overnight.

  "Sounds as though there is a really strong sentiment at what used to becalled the grass-roots level in favor of annexation," I commented.

  "There is," Parros told me. "Of course, there is a very strongisolationist, anti-annexation, sentiment, too. The sentiment in favorof annexation is based on the point Mr. Cumshaw made--the danger ofconquest by the z'Srauff. Against that, of course, there is fear ofhigher taxes, fear of loss of local sovereignty, fear of abrogation oflocal customs and institutions, and chauvinistic pride."

  "We can deal with some of that by furnishing guarantees of localself-government; the emotional objections can be met by convincing themthat we need the great planet of New Texas to add glory and luster tothe Solar League," I said. "You think, then, that Mr. Cumshaw wasassassinated by opponents of annexation?"

  "Of course, sir," Thrombley replied. "These Bonneys were only hirelings.Here's what happened, on the day of the murder:

  "It was the day after a holiday, a big one here on New Texas,celebrating some military victory by the Texans on Terra, a battlecalled San Jacinto. We didn't have any business to handle, because allthe local officials were home nursing hangovers, so when Colonel Hickockcalled--"

  "Who?" I asked sharply.

  "Colonel Hickock. The father of the young lady you were so attentive toat the barbecue. He and Mr. Cumshaw had become great friends, beginningshortly before the speech the Ambassador made at that banquet. He calledabout 0900, inviting Mr. Cumshaw out to his ranch for the day, and asthere was nothing in the way of official business, Mr. Cumshaw said he'dbe out by 1030.

  "When he got there, there was an aircar circling about, near theranchhouse. As Mr. Cumshaw got out of his car and started up the frontsteps, somebody in this car landed it on the driveway and beganshooting with a twenty-mm auto-rifle. Mr. Cumshaw was hit several times,and killed instantly."

  "The fellows who did the shooting were damned lucky," Stonehenge tookover. "Hickock's a big rancher. I don't know how much you know aboutsupercow-ranching, sir, but those things have to be herded with tanksand light aircraft, so that every rancher has at his disposal a fairlygood small air-armor combat team. Naturally, all the big ranchers arecolonels in the Armed Reserve. Hickock has about fifteen fast fighters,and thirty medium tanks armed with fifty-mm guns. He also has someAA-guns around his ranch house--every once in a while, these ranchersget to squabbling among themselves.

  "Well, these three Bonney brothers were just turning away when a burstfrom the ranch house caught their jet assembly, and they could only getas far as Bonneyville, thirty miles away, before they had to land. Theylanded right in front of the town jail.

  "This Bonneyville's an awful shantytown; everybody in it is related toeverybody else. The mayor, for instance, Kettle-Belly Sa
m Bonney, is anuncle of theirs.

  "These three boys--Switchblade Joe Bonney, Jack-High Abe Bonney andTurkey-Buzzard Tom Bonney--immediately claimed sanctuary in the jail, onthe grounds that they had been near to--get that; I think that indicatesthe line they're going to take at the trial--_near_ to a politicalassassination. They were immediately given the protection of the jail,which is about the only well-constructed building in the place,practically a fort."

  "You think that was planned in advance?" I asked.

  Parros nodded emphatically. "I do. There was a hell of a big gang ofthese Bonneys at the jail, almost the entire able-bodied population ofthe place. As soon as Switchblade and Jack-High and Turkey-Buzzardlanded, they were rushed inside and all the doors barred. About threeminutes later, the Hickock outfit started coming in, first aircraft andthen armor. They gave that town a regular Georgie Patton styleblitzing."

  "Yes. I'm only sorry I wasn't there to see it," Stonehenge put in. "Theyknocked down or burned most of the shanties, and then they went to workon the jail. The aircraft began dumping these firebombs and stun-bombsthat they use to stop supercow stampedes, and the tank-guns began topunch holes in the walls. As soon as Kettle-Belly saw what he had on hishands, he radioed a call for Ranger protection. Our friend CaptainNelson went out to see what the trouble was."

  "Yes. I got the story of that from Nelson," Parros put in. "Much as hehated to do it, he had to protect the Bonneys. And as soon as he'd takena hand, Hickock had to call off his gang. But he was smart. He grabbedeverything relating to the killing--the aircar and the twenty-mmauto-rifle in particular--and he's keeping them under cover. Very fewpeople know about that, or about the fact that on physical evidencealone, he has the killing pinned on the Bonneys so well that they'llnever get away with this story of being merely innocent witnesses."

  "The rest, Mr. Silk, is up to us," Thrombley said. "I have ColonelHickock's assurance that he will give us every assistance, but we simplymust see to it that those creatures with the outlandish names areconvicted."

  I didn't have a chance to say anything to that: at that moment, one ofthe servants ushered Captain Nelson toward us.

  "Good evening, Captain," I greeted the Ranger. "Join us, seeing thatyou're on foreign soil and consequently not on duty."

  He sat down with us and poured a drink.

  "I thought you might be interested," he said. "We gave that waiter agoing-over. We wanted to know who put him up to it. He tried to sell usthe line that he was a New Texan patriot, trying to kill a tyrant, butwe finally got the truth out of him. He was paid a thousand pesos to dothe job, by a character they call Snake-Eyes Sam Bonney. A cousin of thethree who killed Mr. Cumshaw."

  "Nephew of Kettle-Belly Sam," Parros interjected. "You pick him up?"

  Nelson shook his head disgustedly. "He's out in the high grasssomewhere. We're still looking for him. Oh, yes, and I just heard thatthe trial of Switchblade, and Jack-High and Turkey-Buzzard is scheduledfor three days from now. You'll be notified in due form tomorrow, but Ithought you might like to know in advance."

  "I certainly do, and thank you, Captain.... We were just talking aboutyou when you arrived," I mentioned. "About the arrest, or rescue, orwhatever you call it, of that trio."

  "Yeah. One of the jobs I'm not particularly proud of. Pity Hickock'sboys didn't get hold of them before I got there. It'd of saved everybodya lot of trouble."

  "Just what impression did you get at the time, Captain?" I asked. "Youthink Kettle-Belly knew in advance what they were going to do?"

  "Sure he did. They had the whole jail fortified. Not like a jail usuallyis, to keep people from getting out; but like a fort, to keep peoplefrom getting in. There were no prisoners inside. I found out that theyhad all been released that morning."

  He stopped, seemed to be weighing his words, then continued, speakingvery slowly.

  "Let me tell you first some things I can't testify to, couple of thingsthat I figure went wrong with their plans.

  "One of Colonel Hickock's men was on the porch to greet Mr. Cumshaw andhe recognized the Bonneys. That was lucky; otherwise we might still belookin' and wonderin' who did the shootin', which might not have beengood for New Texas."

  He cocked an eyebrow and I nodded. The Solar League, in similar cases,had regarded such planetary governments as due for change without noticeand had promptly made the change.

  "Number two," Captain Nelson continued, "that AA-shot which hit theiraircar. I don't think they intended to land at the jail--it was justsort of a reserve hiding-hole. But because they'd been hit, they had toland. And they'd been slowed down so much that they couldn't dispose ofthe evidence before the Colonel's boys were tappin' on the door 'n'askin', couldn't they come in."

  "I gather the Colonel's task-force was becoming insistent," I promptedhim.

  The big Ranger grinned. "Now we're on things I can testify to.

  "When I got there, what had been the cell-block was on fire, and theywere trying to defend the mayor's office and the warden's office. TheseBonneys gave me the line that they'd been witnesses to the killing ofMr. Cumshaw by Colonel Hickock and that the Hickock outfit was trying torub them out to keep them from testifying. I just laughed and started towalk out. Finally, they confessed that they'd shot Mr. Cumshaw, but theyclaimed it was right of action against political malfeasance. When theydid that, I had to take them in."

  "They confessed to you, before you arrested them?" I wanted to be sureof that point.

  "That's right. I'm going to testify to that, Monday, when the trial isheld. And that ain't all: we got their fingerprints off the car, off thegun, off some shells still in the clip, and we have the gun identifiedto the shells that killed Mr. Cumshaw. We got their confession fullycorroborated."

  I asked him if he'd give Mr. Parros a complete statement of what he'dseen and heard at Bonneyville. He was more than willing and I suggestedthat they go into Parros' office, where they'd be undisturbed. TheRanger and my Intelligence man got up and took a bottle of superbourbonwith them. As they were leaving, Nelson turned to Hoddy, who was stillwith us.

  "You'll have to look to your laurels, Hoddy," Nelson said. "YourAmbassador seems to be making quite a reputation for himself as agunfighter."

  "Look," Hoddy said, and though he was facing Nelson, I felt he wasreally talking to Stonehenge, "before I'd go up against this guy, I'dshoot myself. That way, I could be sure I'd get a nice painless job."

  After they were gone, I turned to Stonehenge and Thrombley. "This seemsto be a carefully prearranged killing."

  They agreed.

  "Then they knew _in advance_ that Mr. Cumshaw would be on ColonelHickock's front steps at about 1030. _How did they find that out?_"

  "Why ... why, I'm sure I don't know," Thrombley said. It was mostobvious that the idea had never occurred to him before and a side glancetold me that the thought was new to Stonehenge also. "Colonel Hickockcalled at 0900. Mr. Cumshaw left the Embassy in an aircar a few minuteslater. It took an hour and a half to fly out to the Hickock ranch...."

  "I don't like the implications, Mr. Silk," Stonehenge said. "I can'tbelieve that was how it happened. In the first place, Colonel Hickockisn't that sort of man: he doesn't use his hospitality to trap people totheir death. In the second place, he wouldn't have needed to use peoplelike these Bonneys. His own men would do anything for him. In the thirdplace, he is one of the leaders of the annexation movement here and thiswas obviously an anti-annexation job. And in the fourth place--"

  "Hold it!" I checked him. "Are you sure he's really on the annexationside?"

  He opened his mouth to answer me quickly, then closed it, waited amoment, answered me slowly. "I can guess what you are thinking, Mr.Silk. But, remember, when Colonel Hickock came here as our firstAmbassador, he came here as a man with a mission. He had studied theproblem and he believed in what he came for. He has never changed.

  "Let me emphasize this, sir: we know he has never changed. For our ownprotection, we've had to check on every real leader of the annexationmov
ement, screening them for crackpots who might do us more harm thangood. The Colonel is with us all the way.

  "And now, in the fourth place, underlined by what I've just said, theColonel and Mr. Cumshaw were really friends."

  "Now you're talking!" Hoddy burst in. "I've knowed A. J. ever since Iwas a kid. Ever since he married old Colonel MacTodd's daughter. Thatjust ain't the way A. J. works!"

  "On the other hand, Mr. Ambassador," Thrombley said, keeping his gazefixed on Hoddy's hands and apparently ready to both duck and shut up ifHoddy moved a finger, "you will recall, I think, that Colonel Hickockdid do everything in his power to see that these Bonney brothers did notreach court alive. And, let me add," he was getting bolder, tilting hischin up a little, "it's a choice as simple as this: either ColonelHickock told them, or we have--and this is unbelievable--a traitor inthe Embassy itself."

  That statement rocked even Hoddy. Even though he was probably no morethan one of Natalenko's little men, he still couldn't help knowing howthoroughly we were screened, indoctrinated, and--let's faceit--mind-conditioned. A traitor among us was unthinkable because we justcouldn't think that way.

  The silence, the sorrow, were palpable. Then I remembered, told them,Hickock himself had been a Department man.

  Stonehenge gripped his head between his hands and squeezed as if tryingto bring out an idea. "All right, Mr. Ambassador, where are we now?Nobody who knew could have told the Bonney boys where Mr. Cumshaw wouldbe at 1030, yet the three men were there waiting for him. You take itfrom there. I'm just a simple military man and I'm ready to go back tothe simple military life as soon as possible."

  I turned to Gomez. "There could be an obvious explanation. Bring us theofficial telescreen log. Let's see what calls were made. Maybe Mr.Cumshaw himself said something to someone that gave his destinationaway."

  "That won't be necessary," Thrombley told me. "None of the junior clerkswere on duty, and I took the only three calls that came in, myself.First, there was the call from Colonel Hickock. Then, the call about thewrist watch. And then, a couple of hours later, the call from theHickock ranch, about Mr. Cumshaw's death."

  "What was the call about the wrist watch?" I asked.

  "Oh, that was from the z'Srauff Embassy," Thrombley said. "For sometime, Mr. Cumshaw had been trying to get one of the very precisewatches which the z'Srauff manufacture on their home planet. Thez'Srauff Ambassador called, that day, to tell him that they had one forhim and wanted to know when it was to be delivered. I told them theAmbassador was out, and they wanted to know where they could call himand I--"

  I had never seen a man look more horror-stricken.

  "Oh, my God! I'm the one who told them!"

  What could I say? Not much, but I tried. "How could you know, Mr.Thrombley? You did the natural, the normal, the proper thing, on a callfrom one Ambassador to another."

  I turned to the others, who, like me, preferred not to look atThrombley. "They must have had a spy outside who told them theAmbassador had left the Embassy. Alone, right? And that was just whatthey'd been waiting for.

  "But what's this about the watch, though. There's more to this than asimple favor from one Ambassador to another."

  "My turn, Mr. Ambassador," Stonehenge interrupted. "Mr. Cumshaw had beentrying to get one of the things at my insistence. Naval Intelligence isvery much interested in them and we want a sample. The z'Srauff watchesare very peculiar--they're operated by radium decay, which, of course isa universal constant. They're uniform to a tenth second and they're allsynchronized with the official time at the capital city of the principalz'Srauff planet. The time used by the z'Srauff Navy."

  Stonehenge deliberately paused, let that last phrase hang heavily in theair for a moment, then he continued.

  "They're supposed to be used in religious observances--timing hours ofprayer, I believe. They can, of course, have other uses.

  "For example, I can imagine all those watches giving the wearer a lightelectric shock, or ringing a little bell, all over New Texas, at exactlythe same moment. And then I can imagine all the z'Srauff running downinto nice deep holes in the ground."

  He looked at his own watch. "And that reminds me: my gang of pirates areat the spaceport by now, ready to blast off. I wonder if someone coulddrive me there."

  "I'll drive him, boss," Hoddy volunteered. "I ain't doin' nothin' else."

  I was wondering how I could break that up, plausibly and withoutbetraying my suspicions, when Parros and Captain Nelson came out andjoined us.

  "I have a lot of stuff here," Parros said. "Stuff we never seemed tohave noticed. For instance--"

  I interrupted. "Commander Stonehenge's going to the spaceport, now," Isaid. "Suppose you ride with him, and brief him on what you learned, onthe way. Then, when he's aboard, come back and tell us."

  Hoddy looked at me for a long ten seconds. His expression started bybeing exasperated and ended by betraying grudging admiration.