Police Your Planet

by Lester Del Rey

  Chapter IV

  CAPTAIN MURDOCH

  The new assignment was to the roughest section in all Marsport--the slumarea beyond the dome, out near the rocket field. Here all the riffraffthat had been unable to establish itself in better quarters had foundsome sort of a haven. At one time, there had been a small dome and atiny city devoted to the rocket field. But Marsport had flourishedenough to kill it off. The dome had failed from neglect, and thebuildings inside had grown shabbier.

  Bruce Gordon was trapped; he couldn't break his job with the police--ifhe did, he'd be brought back as a criminal. Some of Mars' laws datedfrom the time when law enforcement had been hampered by lack of men,rather than by the type of men.

  The Stonewall gang numbered perhaps five hundred. They hired out membersto other gangs, during the frequent wars. Between times, they picked upwhat they could by mugging and theft, with a reasonable amount of murderthrown in at a modest price.

  Even derelicts and failures had to eat; there were stores and shopsthroughout the district which eked out some kind of a marginal living.They were safe from protection racketeers there--none bothered to comeso far out. And police had been taken off the beats there after it grewunsafe even for men in pairs to patrol the area.

  The shopkeepers, and some of the less unfortunate people there, hadprotested loud enough to reach clear back to Earth. Marsport had hired aman from Earth to come in and act as chief of the section. CaptainMurdoch was an unknown factor, and now was asking for more men. Thepressure was enough to get them for him.

  Gordon reported for work with a sense of the bottom falling out, mixedwith a vague relief.

  "You're going to be busy," Murdoch announced shortly in the dilapidatedbuilding that had been hastily converted to a precinct house. "Damn it,you're men, not sharks. I've got a free hand, and we're going to runthis the way we would on Earth. Your job is to protect the citizenshere--and that means everyone not breaking the laws--whether you feellike it or not. No graft. The first man making a shakedown will get thesame treatment we're going to use on the Stonewall boys. You'll getdouble pay here, and you can live on it!"

  He opened up a box on his desk and pulled out six heavy wooden sticks,each thirty inches long and nearly two inches in diameter. There was ashaped grip on each, with a thong of leather to hold it over the wrist.

  He picked out five of the men, including Gordon "You five will come withme. I'm going to show how we operate. The rest of you can team up anyway you want tonight, pick any route that's open. Okay, men, let's go."

  Bruce Gordon grinned slowly as he swung the stick, and Murdoch's eyesfell on him. "Earth cop!"

  "Two years," Gordon admitted.

  "Then you should be ashamed to be in this mess. But whatever yourreasons, you'll be useful. Take those two and give them some lessons,while I do the same with these."

  For a second, Gordon cursed himself. Murdoch had fixed it so he'd be asquad leader, and that meant he'd be unable to step out of line. Atdouble standard pay, with normal Mars expenses, he might be able to payfor passage back to Earth in three years--if Security let him.Otherwise, it would take thirty.

  He began wondering about Security, then. Nobody had tried to get intouch with him. Were they waiting for him to get up on a soapbox?

  There was a crude lighting system here, put up by the citizens. At thefront of each building, a dim phosphor bulb glowed; when darkness fell,they would have nothing else to see by.

  Murdoch bunched them together. "A good clubbing beats hanging," he toldthem. "But it has to be _good_. Go in for business, and don't stop justbecause the other guy quits. Give them hell!"

  Moving in two groups of threes, at opposite sides of the street, theybegan their beat. They were covering an area of six blocks one way, andtwo the other.

  They had traveled the six blocks and were turning down a side streetwhen they found their first case; it was still daylight. Two of theStonewall boys were working over a tall man in a newer airsuit. As thepolice swung around, one of the thugs casually ripped the airsuit open.

  A thin screech like a whistle came from Murdoch's Marspeaker, and thecaptain went forward, with Gordon at his heels. The hoodlums tossed theman aside easily, and let out a yell. From the buildings around, anassortment of toughs came at the double, swinging knives, picks, andbludgeons.

  There was no chance to save the citizen, who was dying from lack of air.Gordon felt the solid pleasure of the finely turned club in his hands.It was light enough for speed, but heavy enough to break bones where ithit. A skilled man could knock a knife, or even a heavy club, out ofanother's hand with a single flick of the wrist. And he'd had practice.

  He saw Murdoch's club dart in and take out two of the gang, one on theforward swing, one on the recover. Gordon's eyes popped at that. The manwas totally unlike a Martian captain, and a knot of homesickness forEarth ran through his stomach.

  He swallowed the sentiment; his own club was moving now. Standing besideMurdoch, they were moving forward. The other four cops had come inreluctantly.

  "Knock them out and kick them down!" Murdoch yelled. "And don't let themget away!"

  Gordon was after a thug who was attempting to run away. He brought himto the ground with a single blow across the kidneys.

  It was soon over. They rounded up the men of the gang, and one of thecops started off. Murdoch called, "Where are you going?"

  "To find a phone and call the wagon."

  "We're not using wagons," Murdoch told him. "Line them up."

  When the hoods came to, they found themselves helpless, and facingpolice with clubs. If they tried to run, they were hit from behind; ifthey stood still, they were clubbed carefully. If they fought back, thepugnaciousness was knocked out of them at once.

  Murdoch indicated one who stood with his shoulders shaking and tearsrunning down his cheeks. The captain's face was as sick as Gordon felt."Take him aside. Names."

  Gordon found a section away from the others. "I want the name of everyman in the gang you can remember," he told the man.

  Horror shot over the other's bruised features. "Colonel, they'd kill me!I don't know."

  His screams were almost worse than the beating but names began to come.Gordon took them down, and then returned with the man to the others.

  Murdoch took his nod as evidence enough, and turned to the wretchedtoughs. "He squealed," he announced. "If he should turn up dead, I'llknow you boys are responsible, and I'll find you. Now get out of thisdistrict, or get honest jobs! Because every time one of my men sees oneof you, this will happen again. And you can pass the word along that theStonewall gang is dead!"

  He turned and moved off down the street, the others at his side. Gordonnodded. "I've heard the theory, but never saw it in practice. Supposethe whole gang jumps us at once?"

  Murdoch shrugged. "Then we're taken. The old book I got the idea fromdidn't mention that."

  * * * * *

  Trouble began brewing shortly after, though. Men stood outside, studyingthe cops on their beat. Murdoch sent one of the men to pick up a secondsquad of six, and then a third. After that, the watchers began to meltaway.

  "We'd better shift to another territory," Murdoch decided. Gordonrealized that the gang had figured that concentrating the police heremeant other territories would be safe.

  Two more groups were given the treatment. In the third one, Bruce Gordonspotted one of the men who'd been beaten before. He was a sick-lookingspectacle.

  Murdoch nodded. "Object lesson!"

  The one good thing about the captain, Gordon decided, was that hebelieved in doing his own dirtiest work. When he was finished, he turnedto two of the other captives.

  "Get a stretcher, and take him wherever he belongs," he ordered. "I'mleaving you two able to walk for that. But if _you_ get caught again,you'll get still worse."

  The squad went in, tired and sore; all had taken a severe beating in thebrawls. But there was little grumbling. Gordon saw grudging admirationin their eyes for M
urdoch, who had taken more punishment than they had.

  Gordon rode back in the official car with Murdoch and both were silentmost of the way. But the captain stirred finally, sighing. "Poordevils!"

  Gordon jerked up in surprise. "The gang?"

  "No, the cops they're giving me. We're covered, Gordon. But theStonewall gang is backing Wayne. He's let me come in because he figuresit will get him more votes. But afterwards, he'll have me out; and thenthe boys with me will be marks for the gang when it comes back. Besides,it'll show on the books that they didn't kick into his fund. I canalways go back to Earth, and I'll try to take you along. But it's goingto be tough on them."

  Bruce Gordon grimaced. "I've got a yellow ticket, from Security."

  Murdoch blinked. He dropped his eyes slowly. "So you're _that_ Gordon?But you're still a good cop."

  They rode on further in silence, until Gordon broke the ice to ease thetension. He found himself liking the other.

  "What makes you think Wayne will be re-elected? Nobody wants him, excepta gang of crooks and those in power."

  Murdoch grinned bitterly. "Ever see a Martian election? No, you're afirster. He can't lose! And then hell is going to pop, and this wholeplanet may be blown wide open!"

  It fitted with the dire predictions of Security, and with the spyingGordon was going to do--according to them.

  He discussed it with Mother Corey, who agreed that Wayne would bere-elected.

  "Can't lose," the old man said. He was getting even fatter, now that hewas eating better food from the fair restaurant around the corner.

  "He'll win," Mother Corey repeated. "And you'll turn honest all over,now you're in uniform. Take me, cobber. I figured on laying low for awhile, then opening up a few rooms for a good pusher or two, maybe ahigh-class duchess. Cost 'em more, but they'd be respectable. Only nowI'm respectable myself, they don't look so good. But this honesty stuff,it's like dope. You start out on a little, and you have to go all theway."

  "It didn't affect Honest Izzy," Gordon pointed out.

  "Nope. Because Izzy is always honest, according to how he sees it. Butyou got Earth ideas of the stuff, like I had once. Too bad." He sighedponderously.

  * * * * *

  The week moved on. The groups grew more experienced, and Murdoch wastraining a new squad every night. Gordon's own squad was equipped withshields now, and they were doing better. The number of muggings andholdups in the section was going down. They seldom saw a man after he'dbeen treated.

  One of the squads was jumped by a gang of about forty, and two of themen were killed before the nearest other squad could pull a rear attack.That day the whole force worked overtime hunting for the men who hadescaped; and by evening the Stonewall boys had received proof that itdidn't pay to go against the police in large numbers.

  After that, they began to go hunting for the members of the gang. Theyhad the names of nearly all of them, and some pretty good ideas of theirhide-outs.

  It wasn't exactly legal; but nothing was, here. If a doctor's job was toprevent illness, instead of merely curing it, then why shouldn't it be apoliceman's job to prevent crime? Here, that was best done by wiping outthe Stonewall gang to the last member.

  This could lead to abuses, as he'd seen on Earth. But there probablywouldn't be time for it if Mayor Wayne was re-elected.

  The gang had begun to break up, but the nucleus would be the last to go.The police had orders to beat any member on sight, now. Citizens wereappearing on the streets at night for the first time in years. And therewere smiles--hungry, beaten smiles, but still genuine ones--for thecops.