“Yeah!” the mike picked up another voice. “How about that?”
Before the wordless, mindless roar could rise again, the warden barked, “Oh, hush up!” And they were quiet.
“My God,” breathed Lansing.
“Now,” Halloran’s voice was easy, assured, “I want to make sure that ail of. you hear me. So, I’m coming out in the center of the yard. Rabbi Pete Goldsmid and Doc Slade insist on coming with me although,” he chuckled, “I understand Squeaker Hanley’s screaming for the doc to cut out his gall bladder.” A few of the men laughed. “All right, here I come . . . And you fellows behind me, keep off the wire. I don’t want this mike to go dead and have to yell my lungs out.”
They saw the eddy of men around him move slowly through the broken gate and out of their sight.
“What will he tell them,” muttered Knox.
“Whatever—they’ll believe it,” Court said. The courtyard before them was now empty. He stared thoughtfully out the barred window, then said, “Think you could get to the gate office pretty soon, now—”
“No!” snarled Knox. “I want to see what happens to that gutty so-and-so!”
Lansing grinned nervously. “Somehow, captain, I feel it won’t be necessary for us to sneak out of here.”
They listened again while assorted thieves, murderers, rapists, men— save for an innocent few—whose hands were consistently raised against their fellows’ peace and property, heard their jailor tell them that the end of their world, a world that many of them remembered but dimly, was coming to an end. The screaming broke out again when Halloran spoke of the Mars-bound ships and, for a moment, the three in the office thought he had lost control. But the amplifiers prevailed and Halloran laughed and said, “Anyway, we’re not going to Mars—”
“You can go!”
The man who yelled that was apparently very dose to the warden within his view, for they heard him say: “Chrisman, you’re a fool—as usual! Would I bother to come out here and talk to you if I could go?”
That got them. That, they understood. If a guy didn’t scram from a hot spot when he could . . . well, then, he couldn’t scram in the first place. So, the warden was stuck, just like they were.
Later, perhaps, a few of them might figure out why.
“Now, let’s have no more interruptions,” Halloran said. “I don’t think there’s any need to go. Neither does the doc, here, or the rabbi. We’re all staying—because the desert to the south of us has stopped the spread of this dust and it seems it can’t cross the rivers, either. So, we’re safe enough.”
“But that’s not true,” groaned Lansing:
Court glanced at him. “Would you tell them different?” he said coldly.
“No—”
Halloran said, “Well, that’s that. Life is a little difficult outside and so the people out there want to try to get to Mars. Believe me, that’s a trip I want someone else to make first. But if they think life will be easier on those deserts—why, let them go. But God help them—they’ll need it.”
He paused. Knox tried to catch Lansing’s eye, but the scientist’s face was blank, unseeing.
“What do we do?” This voice was not hysterical, just seriously questioning.
“You should do darned well. Life should be easy enough for you, You’ve got your own farms, your livestock, laundry, hospital, shops—everything a man can need. So, take over and run things to suit yourselves.”
A unanimous gasp whistled over the speaker. Then, they all cried just one word.
“Us?”
“Why not? Don’t you think you can?
Silence, broken by strange, wistful mutterings.
“I’d suggest this,” Halloran said. “Let’s follow our normal routine tonight—no lock-ups, of course—and tomorrow, you fellows take over. I’ll help you in any way I can. But it will be your job. Perhaps after breakfast tomorrow, you ought to have a mass meeting. Under the supervision of your council, I’d say. You can’t keep going without some kind of order, you know.”
Again silence.
“My God,” whispered Lansing, “he makes it all sound so real.”
“Any questions?” Halloran asked.
“Hey, warden! How about the dames?”
“The ladies will join you tomorrow morning.” He chuckled. “I imagine they’ll be able to handle you all right!”
A joyous roar.
“However,” Halloran raised his voice, “I’d like to remind you fellows that a successful community needs . . . families!”
There was a long quiet, then, broken finally by an inmate who asked, “Warden, how about the guys up on the Row?”
“Well,” Halloran’s voice lost all humor, “you can start ripping out the gas chamber whenever you’re ready to. I’ll see that you get the tools.”
The swell of applause was so loud in the office that Court hastily turned down the speaker’s volume.
“All right,” Halloran said when they had quieted down, “that’s about it. You’re free now, till supper-time. I’d suggest all of you start right now, thinking about your future—”
Outside the main gate, first Knox, then Lansing shook hands with the gray-faced warden.
“Trucks’ll be in town at seven for your people,” Knox muttered. He gave a windy sigh. “It’s all fouled up. As usual. Damn it, we need people like you, sir!”
Lansing looked at Halloran for a long time, trying to see behind the mask of exhaustion. “I’m a mannerless fool,” he said at last. “But Mr. Halloran, would you tell me what you’re thinking? I mean, really thinking? Even if it’s rough on us!”
Halloran laughed softly. “I wasn’t thinking about you at all, Dr. Lansing. I was—and am—regretting that what I told the men couldn’t be the truth. It’s too bad they’ll have so short a time. It would be very interesting to see what they would do with—life.”
Knox scowled. “Seems like they haven’t done much with it so far.”
“Come along, general,” Lansing said quietly. “You don’t understand. None of us do. We never did.”
THE END
Complete Fiction (Jerry eBooks) Page 19