Chapter XIII
ARREST MAYOR WAYNE!
The Legal forces were shorthanded and eager for recruits. They hadstruck quickly, according to plans made by experts on Earth, and nowcontrolled about half of Marsport. But it was a sprawling crescentaround the central section, harder to handle than the Municipalterritory. Bruce Gordon was sworn in at once.
Then he cooled his heels while the florid, paunchy ex-politicianCommissioner Crane worried about his rating and repeated how corruptMars was and how the collection system was over--absolutely over. In theend, he was given a captain's pay and the rank of sergeant. As a favor,he was allowed to share a beat with Honest Izzy under Captain Hendrix,who had simply switched sides after losing the morning's battle.
Gordon's credits were changed to Legal scrip, and he was issued atrim-fitting green uniform. Then a surprisingly competent doctorexamined his wound, rebandaged it, and sent him home for the day. Thechange was finished--and he felt like a grown man playing with dolls.
He walked back, watching the dull-looking people closing off theirhomes, as they had done at elections. Here and there, houses had beenbroken into during the night. There were occasional buzzes of angryconversation that cut off as he approached.
Marsport had learned to hate all cops, and a change of uniform hadn'taltered that; instead, the people seemed to resent the loss of thefamiliar symbol of hatred.
He found Izzy and Randolph at the restaurant across from Mother Corey's.Izzy grinned suddenly at the sight of the uniform. "I knew it,gov'nor--knew it the minute I heard Jurgens was a cop. Did you make 'emgive you my beat?"
He seemed genuinely pleased as Gordon nodded, and then dropped it, topoint to Randolph. "Guess what, gov'nor. The Legals bought Randy's_Crusader_. Traded him an old job press and a bag of scratch for hisreputation."
"You'll be late, Izzy," Randolph said quietly. Gordon suddenly realizedthat Randolph, like everyone else, seemed to be Izzy's friend. Hewatched the little man leave, and reached out for the menu. Randolphpicked it out of his hand. "You've got a wife home, muckraker. You don'thave to eat this filth."
Gordon got up, grimacing at the obvious dismissal. But the publishermotioned him back again.
"Yeah, the Legals want the _Crusader_ for their propaganda," he saidwearily. "New slogans and new uniforms, and none of them mean anything.Here!" He drew a small golden band from his little finger. "My mother'swedding ring. Give it to her--and if you tell her it came from me, I'llrip out your guts!"
He got up suddenly and hobbled out, his pinched face working. Gordonturned the ring over, puzzled. Finally he got up and headed for hisroom, a little surprised to find the door unlocked. Sheila opened hereyes at his uniform, but made no comment. "Food ready in ten minutes,"she told him.
She'd already been shopping, and had installed the tiny cookingequipment used in half Marsport. There was also a small iron lyingbeside a pile of his laundered clothes. He dropped onto the bed wearily,then jerked upright as she came over to remove his boots. But there wasno mockery on her face--and oddly, it felt good to him. Maybe her ideaof married life was different from his.
She was sanding the dishes and putting them away when he finallyremembered the ring. He studied it again, then got up and dropped itbeside her. He was surprised as she fumbled it on to see that itfitted--and more surprised at the sudden realization that she wasentitled to it.
She studied it under the glare of the single bulb, and then turned toher room. She was back a few seconds later with a small purse. "I got aduplicate key. Yours is in there," she said thickly. "And--somethingelse. I guess I was going to give it to you anyway. I was afraid someoneelse might find it--"
He cut her off brusquely, his eyes riveted on the Security badge he'dbeen sure Trench had taken. "Yeah, I know. Your meal ticket was indanger. Okay, you've done your nightly duty. Now get the hell out of myroom, will you?"
* * * * *
The week went on mechanically, while he gradually adjusted to the newangles of being a Legal. The banks were open, and deposits honored, aspromised. But it was in the printing-press scrip of Legal currency,useful only through Mayor Gannett's trick Exchanges. Water went up fromfourteen credits to eighty credits for a gallon of pure distilled. Otherthings were worse. Resentment flared, but the scrip was the only moneyavailable, and it still bound the people to the new regime.
Supplies were scarce, salt and sugar almost unavailable. Earth had cutoff all shipping until the affair was settled, and nobody in theoutlands would deal in scrip.
He came home the third evening to find that Sheila had managed to findspace for her bunk in his room, cut off by a heavy screen, and hadclosed the other room to save the rent. It led to some relaxationbetween them, and they began talking impersonally.
Gordon watched for a sign that Trench had passed on his evidence of themurder of Murdoch, but there was none. The pressure of the beat took hismind from it. Looting had stepped up.
Izzy had co-operated--reluctantly, until Gordon was able to convince himthat it was the people who paid his salary. Then he nodded. "It's ahelluva roundabout way of doing things, gov'nor, but if the gees pay forprotection any old way, then they're gonna get it!"
They got it. Hoodlums began moving elsewhere, toward easier pickings.
Gordon turned his entire pay over to Sheila; at current prices, it wouldbarely keep them in food for a week. "I told you you had a punched mealticket," he said bitterly.
"We'll live," she answered him. "I got a job today--barmaid, on yourbeat, where being your wife helps."
He could think of nothing to say to it; but after supper, he went toIzzy's room to arrange for a raid on Municipal territory. Such smallraids were nominally on the excuse of extending the boundaries, butactually they were out-and-out looting.
He came back to find her cleaning up, and shoved her away. "Go to bed.You look beat. I'll sand these."
She started to protest, then let him take over.
They never made the looting raid. The next morning, they arrived at thePrecinct house to find men milling around the bulletin board, buzzingover an announcement there. Apparently, Chief Justice Arliss had brokenwith the Wayne administration, and the mimeographed form was a legalruling that Wayne was no longer Mayor, since the charter had beenvoided. He was charged with inciting a riot, and a warrant had beenissued for his arrest.
Hendrix appeared finally. "All right, men," he shouted. "You all see it.We're going to arrest Wayne. By jingo, they can't say we ain't legalnow! Every odd-numbered shield goes from every precinct. Gordon,Isaacs--you two been talking big about law and order. Here's thewarrant. Take it and arrest Wayne!"
It took nearly an hour to get the plans settled, but finally they headedfor the trucks that had been arriving. Most of them belonged to Nick theCroop, who had apparently decided the Legals would win.
Gordon and Izzy found the lead truck and led the way. They neared thebar where Sheila was working, and Bruce Gordon swore. She was runningtoward the center of the street, frantically trying to flag him down,and he barely managed to swerve around her. "Damned fool!" he muttered.
Izzy's pock-marked face soured for a second as he stared at Gordon. "Theprincess? She sure is."
The crew at the barricade had been alerted, and now began clearing itaside hastily, while others kept up a covering fire against the fewMunicipals. The trucks wheeled through, and Gordon dropped back to letscout trucks go ahead and pick off any rash enough to head for the callboxes. They couldn't prevent advance warning, but they could delay andminimize it.
They were near the big Municipal building when they came to the firstreal opposition, and it was obviously hastily assembled. The scouts tookcare of most of the trouble, though a few shots pinged against the truckGordon was driving.
"Rifles!" Izzy commented in disgust. "They'll ruin the dome yet. Whycan't they stick to knives?"
He was studying a map of the big building, picking their best entrance.Ahead, trucks formed a sort of V formation as they
reached the groundsaround it and began bulling their way through the groups that weretrying to organize a defense. Gordon found his way cleared and shotthrough, emerging behind the defense and driving at full speed towardthe entrance Izzy pointed out.
"Cut speed! Left sharp!" Izzy shouted. "Now, in there!"
They sliced into a small tunnel, scraping their sides where it wasbarely big enough for the truck. Then they reached a dead end, with justroom for them to squeeze through the door of the truck and into anentrance marked with a big notice of privacy.
There was a guard beside an elevator, but Izzy's knife took care of him.They ducked around the elevator, unsure of whether it could be remotelycontrolled, and up a narrow flight of stairs, down a hallway, and upanother flight. A Municipal corporal at the top grabbed for a warningwhistle, but Gordon clipped him with a hasty rabbit punch and shoved himdown the stairs. Then they were in front of an ornate door, with theirweapons ready.
Izzy yanked the door open and dropped flat behind it. Bullets from asubmachine gun clipped out, peppering the entrance and the door, andricocheting down the hall. The yammering stopped, finally, and Izzystuck his head and one arm out with a snap of his knife. Gordon leapedin, to see a Municipal dropping the machine gun.
There were about thirty cops inside, gathered around Mayor Wayne, withTrench standing at one side. The fools had obviously expected themachine gun to do all the work.
Izzy leaped for the machine gun and yanked it from dead hands, while thecops slowly began raising their arms. Wayne sat petrified, staringunbelievingly, and Gordon drew out the warrant. "Wayne, you're underarrest!"
Trench moved forward, his hands in the air, but with no mark of surpriseor fear on his face. "So the bad pennies turn up. You damned fools, youshould have stuck. I had big plans for you, Gordon. I've still got them,if you don't insist..."
His hands whipped down savagely toward his hips and came up sharply!Gordon spun, and the gun leaped in his hands, while the submachine gunjerked forward and clicked on an empty chamber. Trench was tumblingforward to avoid the shot, but he twitched as a bullet creased hisshoulder. Then he was upright, waving empty hands at them, with the thinsmile on his face deepening. He'd had no guns.
Gordon jerked around, but Wayne was already disappearing through a heavydoor. And the cops were reaching for their guns. Gordon estimated thechances of escape and then leaped forward into their group, with Izzy athis side, seeking close quarters where guns wouldn't work.
Gun butts, elbows, fists, and clubs were pounding at him, while his ownclub lashed out savagely. In ten seconds, things began to haze over, buthis arms went on mechanically, seeking the most damage they could work.
Then a heavy bellow sounded, and a seeming mountain of flesh thunderedacross the huge room. There was no shuffle to Mother Corey now. The hugelegs pumped steadily, and the great arms were reaching out to flailaside clubs and knives. Men began spewing out of the brawl like strawfrom a thresher as the old man grabbed arms, legs, or whatever washandy. He had one cop in his left arm, using him as a flail against theothers.
The Municipals broke. And at the first sign, Mother Corey leapedforward, dropping his flail and gathering Izzy and Gordon under hisarms. He hit the heavy door with his shoulder and crashed throughwithout breaking stride. Stairs lay there, and he took them three at atime.
He dropped them finally as they came to a side entrance. There was asporadic firing going on there, and a knot of Municipals were clusteredaround a few Legals, busy with knives and clubs. Corey broke into a runagain, driving straight into them and through, with Gordon and Izzy onhis heels. The surprise element was enough to give them a few seconds.
Then they were around a small side building, out of danger. Sheila washolding the door of a large three-wheeler open. They ducked into it,while she grabbed the wheel.
They edged forward until they could make out the shape of the fightgoing on. The Legals had never quite reached the front of the building,obviously, and were now cut into sections. Corey tapped her shoulder,pointing out the rout, and she gunned the car.
They were through too fast to draw fire from the busy groups ofbattle-crazed men, leaping across the square and into the first sidestreet they could find. Then she slowed, and headed for the main streetback to Legal territory.
"Lucky we found a good car to steal," Mother Corey wheezed. He waspuffing now, mopping rivulets of perspiration from his face. "I'mgetting old, cobbers. Once I broke every strong-man record onEarth--still stand, too. But not now. Senile!"
"You didn't have to come," Izzy said.
"When my own granddaughter comes crying for help? When she finallyadmits she _needs_ her old grandfather?"
Gordon was staring back at the straggling of trucks he could seebeginning to break away. The raid was over, and the Legals had lost.Trench had tricked him.
Izzy grunted suddenly. "Gov'nor, if you're right, and the plain gees paymy salary, who's paying me to start fighting other cops? Or is it maybethat somebody isn't being exactly honest with the scratch they lift fromthe gees?"
"We still have to eat," Gordon said bitterly. "And to eat, we'll go ondoing what we're told."
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