McBriar winced. He had acted on what he believed to be a bona fide tip. How was he to know it was a gag? He had gone ahead in pursuance of duty and arrested Captain Kennedy’s brother-in-law. He remembered the explosions.
“There are others, Sergeant,” Kennedy continued, riffling pages. “But why rub salt in your wounds? Let’s get down to today’s incident.”
McBriar decided suddenly that he had had enough. After all, a man had his pride. He couldn’t remain indefinitely before another in the attitude of a small boy caught stealing sweets.
“If you’re going to break me, Captain, get at it. I don’t have to take this sort of thing from, you or anybody else.”
Captain Kennedy showed a faint cold amusement. He touched a stud on his desk.
“I have stopped the recorder, Sergeant. What I am about to say constitutes language unbecoming to an officer, and I have no wish for it to be on official records. I want you to know exactly what I think of you.”
McBriar said, “Take it easy, Kennedy. .I’ve been wanting to give you a beating for a long time.”
Kennedy got to his large feet. His wide shoulders were hunched, arms half bent, hands forming huge fists. His face held not even the false friendliness of a few moments before.
“If rules and regulations did not require a trial, I would kick you off the force, McBriar. But the evidence indicates that you were not wholly at fault. Now I know that evidence doesn’t even hint at the truth that you are the most miserable excuse for an officer I have seen in fifty years on this desk.
“You have no imagination, and what little brain you possess has become atrophied from disuse. You have only a habit pattern. You move straight ahead, blindly, doggedly, a mindless force which can adapt itself to no changing condition, however slight. The simplest robot reflects more credit on the human race than you, for it indicates that its makers have imagination and ability.
“You are merely evidence of a deplorable blunder on the part of Nature. Whatever natural selection went into the process of bringing you to a contemptible manhood, belongs to dark, lost ages.”
McBriar was held motionless by shock and surprise. One man did not speak to another in this fashion. Controlled, and all the more vicious, contempt dripped from Kennedy’s slow words. They cut more deeply than the most vivid invective, were more shameful than public insult, more arousing than a slap in the face.
He too, got to his feet as rage surged through him in adrenalin waves. His eyes glazed slightly. He stepped forward and threw a right jab at the mocking face. What happened in the next few minutes was never very clear to him.
***
THE sergeant came back to consciousness with only a hazy recollection of events. He noted the overturned furniture, scattered papers, the litter of office supplies all over the floor, and reconstructed the fight to some extent. Then he got to his feet and saw with surprise that Captain Kennedy was affable behind his desk again. Not a single ruffled silver hair, not a mark indicated that Kennedy had even exerted himself. His knuckles were over-red, but that was all.
His voice was pleasant enough, too, with its mocking overtones.
“Thank you, Sergeant, for the workout. I’ve been neglecting my exercise recently. I’m going to cut in the recorder again. Let me see, I believe your last remark was that you didn’t have to take that from me or anybody else. Please sit down again before we resume.” McBriar was tired. He ached. He sat. He waited. Kennedy touched the recording stud again, waited a second, then said in shocked tones:
“Break you, Sergeant? Ah, no. Experienced officers are not so plentiful that I can dispense with one whose only fault is an—ah, affinity for bad luck. But before I give you another assignment, I want details on the incident at the parade. Who was it?”
“I—I don’t know,” McBriar muttered. Kennedy’s eyes widened. “You—don’t —know? You can’t mean that, Sergeant. It isn’t possible that you don’t know.”
“I was about to look at his identification,” McBriar said desperately, “when the parade came into sight. I told him to wait, and took my position. That was more important. So he took off when the parade came abreast.”
“I see. Well, no matter. We can find his name easily enough. What was the type and number of his plane?”
“I—uh—”
McBriar fell silent before the look of horror which overspread Captain Kennedy’s features.
“Yes?” Kennedy whispered. “Yes?”
“I guess it didn’t have a number, Captain.”
“You—guess? Did you say guess, Sergeant?”
“I mean it didn’t have a number. It was a kind of funny ship. Queer, somehow.”
Kennedy continued to whisper, words falling softly from a tight mouth below icy eyes.
“It didn’t have a number, and you let it get away? Is that—can it be—true, Sergeant?”
“Now listen, Captain,” McBriar said earnestly. “I couldn’t do anything else. Here’s what happened, exactly.”
He related the incident from its beginning, while Captain Kennedy listened. And as he listened, the captain tapped the top of his desk slowly with one finger tip. When McBriar had finished, he continued to tap the desk for a long time.
Then, “Give a description of this plane, Sergeant.”
“Well, it’s—uh, that is, I can’t exactly, Captain.”
“Then give a partial description of it, you idiot!” roared Kennedy. “Give us something we can pass on to the men. They must know something about it before they can find it.”
Sergeant McBriar was unhappy. He dropped his good eye to the floor. He really twisted his hands.
“I can’t, Captain,” he said miserably. “It was just—queer. It had a funny—uh, feel. It didn’t feel like other ships.”
“You touched it, Sergeant, and don’t know any more than that?”
“Well, no, I didn’t touch it, Captain. You could feel it by just looking.”
***
CAPTAIN KENNEDY’S jaw dropped. He didn’t say anything for a long time. Then his speech came sadly, gently.
“You married a fine woman, Sergeant. It isn’t her fault that you are as you are, and she shouldn’t suffer. I should be perfectly justified if I chose to strip you of all insignia and reduce you to your misbegotten normal.
“But I’m soft hearted, Sergeant. I treat my men as human beings. I have consideration for their families. So I am not going to break you, Sergeant, even though your action today—or lack of it—reflected discredit on the department and caused me—me, Sergeant!—to receive severe reprimands from the international council. I am going to send you to a post befitting your peculiar talents.”
Kennedy paused, and to McBriar’s uneasy eye he was licking his chops, savoring what was to come.
“Your duties will not be onerous, Sergeant. But even so, you will report to me personally before you so much as give a citizen directions to the post office. I am giving you another chance, and I am going to make sure that you make good.” Kennedy paused again, and smiled. It was not a pretty smile, McBriar reflected—it was all teeth. “In Rayville,” Kennedy said.
On the third day, Sergeant McBriar began to enjoy his work. True, he had little to do that was worthy of mention, for the community was given over to the serious business of developing agricultural products. But he mentioned every move he made, short of breathing, to Captain Kennedy. He managed to interrupt Kennedy at least a dozen times each day, and at least once in the dead of each night when coyotes came down from the hills and howled outside the poultry station.
Pursuing his theory that eventually Captain Kennedy’s choler would overwhelm him—and perhaps bring on heart failure—he brought minor events to the attention of his superior at 10 o’clock of the third morning, at the time the captain was wont to slip out for a mid-morning coffee and cigarette.
If Captain Kennedy was annoyed, or even beginning to crack up, he kept all hint of it from the image which appeared on McBriar’s panel screen.
“Ah, Sergeant
,” he said’ pleasantly, “what world-shakers have we this morning?”
“Sergeant Rion McBriar reporting from Rayville, sir,” McBriar intoned. “At eight-thirty-two this morning, three boys allowed their model rocket ship to get out of control. Result: it crashed against the pyro-plex front of Mrs. Archer’s sun porch and seared the pane so that it is completely opaque.”
Captain Kennedy pursed his lips. “Hmm. Now don’t lose your head, Sergeant. Keep calm, man. You’ve handled things as big as this before. Remember the time the man asked you what to do with a dead cat. Keep that in mind, believe that you are equal to this emergency, and you’ll be all right. Do you have any suggestions?”
“Yes, sir,” Sergeant McBriar said smartly. “I know the identity of the culprits, and—”
“Good work; man, good work!” Captain Kennedy interrupted. “We’ll have you using your head yet. Go on!”
“—- and I thought their parents should replace the pane, sir.”
“Exactly, Sergeant. Anything else?” Sergeant McBriar winced at the patronizing tones. He didn’t like being treated as a small boy. However, it was in a good cause—his purpose being to drive Captain Kennedy to madness—and he simulated a flush of pleasure.
***
BESIDES, he thought, and the thought brought a real flush of pleasure, he had a lulu for the captain this morning.
“Yes, sir.” Sergeant McBriar kept excitement out of his voice. “Another of the plant episodes.”
“Sergeant, you do have your troubles. So somebody pulled up a couple of petunias again, eh?”
“No, sir, it was potatoes.”
“I was using petunias symbolically, Sergeant.” Captain Kennedy’s tone sharpened a trifle, and McBriar glowed again. “Sorry, sir,” he said.
“So it was potatoes. Have you any further news of this night marauder?”
“No, sir, except that he’s been seen. That is, his ship has been seen.”
“Ah? What kind is it?”
“Why, uh, it’s a funny kind. I didn’t get a very good description. It’s—uh, apparently like the one that cut across the Peace Parade, maybe the same one.”
Captain Kennedy’s blue eyes sharpened in the’ screen. He became a trifle avid. “Where is he?” he snapped.
“Why, I don’t know, sir,” McBriar said blandly. “It’s out of my sector. I’m confined to the limits of Rayville.”
“Never mind that!” Kennedy barked. “Go find him.”
Sergeant McBriar quoted the rules with a fat satisfaction.
“Section four oh two, subsection twenty-six A, article sixteen, paragraph four, of the Official Code, sir, says, ‘No officer of the law may leave his post, if such departure renders that post liable to unregulated movement.’ I’ll have to be relieved, Captain, if I go after him.”
“You’ll do what I say, you nitwit! Rayville could get along forever without supervision.”
“I’m following orders,” McBriar said stubbornly. “Those orders are part of the official record made in your office. I stand on my rights.”
“You’ll stand on your ear,” Kennedy fumed, “if I have to come out there. Remember that. Get—after—that—man! I want him!”
Captain Kennedy cut the circuit. Sergeant McBriar grinned, waited ten seconds, called it again, and presently Kennedy’s red face filled the little screen.
“There’s one more thing, sir,” he said apologetically. “I hope I didn’t interrupt you again?”
Kennedy’s jaw set. His eyes reddened. He said nothing.
“There was a death last night, sir.’’
“Well?” Kennedy grated, “what do you want me to do—handsprings? Natural deaths don’t concern you.”
“But this wasn’t natural, sir. He was killed.”
“Killed? How?”
“Apparently by the same person who’s been stealing potatoes, and corn, and what not. How, sir? Nobody knows.”
* * *
The time had come to go, Norg decided. His soil analyzers had shown this planet to be similar to his own before it had exploded. He had eaten this planet’s food and detected no bad effects. Now was the time to go, report to his people, and lead them in lightning attack.
The effect of his weapon on the native last night was disconcerting. The being had simply fallen, dead, with none of the pyrotechnic displays which normally accompanied use of his device. These beings were more rugged than his own people. But, he consoled himself, they died.
They could die en masse, as well as singly.
But now he must go, and he must drift into noonday traffic as if he were one of them. He must not repeat his earlier mistake of violating their idiotic laws. He must become one of the herd until he was away from the nearby settlement. Then he could zoom off into space… .
McBRIAR said, “You got here quick.”
Captain Kennedy was in no mood for chit-chat.
“Where’s your ship?” To the youth in corporal’s green, “You stay here, Beeks.” To McBriar, sharply, “Where’s your ship, man?”
“On the roof, Captain.”
“Well? Get moving!”
When they were in the little red plane, Captain Kennedy gave crisp orders.
“We’ll comb those hills till we find him. I want to get my hands on him for about fifteen minutes. After that we’ll question him.”
“But the rules—”
“The devil with the rules! He created a disturbance in a Peace Parade. Do you know what that has meant to me? No, you wouldn’t. Never will. You’re about as likely to become a captain as I am a monkey’s grandmother. Well, what’s funny about that?”
“Nothing, nothing,” McBriar said hastily. “But look, Captain, if you’re holding this guy to blame, then why do I take the rap? Why send me out here?”
“Shut up!” Kennedy snapped. “I’ll ask the questions. Get going!”
Sergeant McBriar reached for the controls, scanned the sky overhead, and froze.
“L—look!” he gabbled. “It’s him!” “Stop all traffic!”
McBriar touched the stud which lighted a warning signal on all panels, and launched the little ship toward the quarry. That one came to a stop sluggishly, McBriar noted, but stopped nonetheless. He pulled alongside, hoping that the man was an Experimenter, and that Captain Kennedy would lose his stripe for interference.
“Pull over to that pylon!” he ordered.
The pilot apparently started to obey, then fled. Captain Kennedy pulled his gun.
“Aw, Captain!” McBriar protested. “My gosh, not that!” He cited another rule. “The Official Code says no emergency justifies taking a human life. You know what’ll happen, Captain, if you kill him.”
Captain Kennedy lowered his arm. “Catch him, then! You fool, get going!”
Sergeant McBriar set the ship into motion at top speed, but the strange craft pulled away faster and faster.
Captain Kennedy sighted again. McBriar laid a hand on his arm.
Captain Kennedy jerked away from McBriar’s restraining fingers.
“You fool, I’m only going to disable his ailerons. You attend to holding the ship steady!”
Kennedy aimed, depressed the activisor.
What happened then was awesome, spectacular, and satisfying to McBriar. First, the tail end of the ship exploded. This seemed to set off a chain explosion which progressed swiftly, but not faster than the eye could follow, along the length of the ship and sent brilliant bits of passenger and ship plunging to the ground. McBriar followed more leisurely.
During the descent, Kennedy muttered over and over:
“It’s impossible! It can’t happen!”
“Then they can’t break you, Captain,” McBriar said cheerfully. “If it’s impossible, they can’t take your uniform away from you. The chairman of the international council can’t have you on the carpet for it. They can’t leave your office vacant for the oldest sergeant on the force.”
“Listen, McBriar,” Captain Kennedy said, “I don’t imagine a
nybody else saw me shoot. Suppose we don’t mention it, eh?”
“Why, Captain! You shock me. I am a sworn officer. Truth and honesty, that’s me. My conscience wouldn’t let me twist the truth.”
“You won’t lose by it,” Kennedy promised.
THEY landed, then, among the litter in an open field. Presently other ships collected, but McBriar waved them away.
They examined the residue, and saw that no explanation could be reconstructed from the charred bits of matter and a half dozen scorched potatoes. Captain Kennedy then sat on a rock and stared into space. McBriar called in for chemists and photographers, and joined his superior.
“I still don’t understand it,” Kennedy muttered. He looked up at McBriar. “Oh, nuts, I suppose I’ve got this coming from you. I’ve stopped you from going up in the service, the same as I’ve held back everyone else. I was proud of my job, and wanted to keep it. Lord knows, though, what my wife will say. She’ll be glad, I guess. We can visit her mother now,” he added, grimacing. Then he shrugged.
“Well, I might as well face it. I pulled a boner. I’ll pay for it.”
McBriar thought: “Why, the guy’s human, after all.”
“Uh, look, Captain,” he said. “I guess I wouldn’t do anybody any good by testifying that you killed the guy. I’m not glad you did, exactly, even if he did cause me trouble. But if it had to be somebody, I’m glad it was him. He won’t get me demoted again. So I’ll say it looked like internal combustion.”
Kennedy stood up, extended his hand. “Sergeant, you’ll never regret this,” he said brokenly.
McBriar waved away the hand.
“Don’t get me wrong. I still hate your face. And if I do this for you, I want one favor.”
“Name it, McBriar!”
“It’s not a promotion,” McBriar said. “I’ll take that if I earn it, and not as a bribe. But you can bribe me. Remember that beating you gave me?
“I’m sorry about that, Sergeant.”
“Well, I’m not. I’m sore. So here’s what I want. You’re a little bigger than I am, and maybe better with your fists. I never went in for fighting. So you can still whip me, I guess. All right, here’s what I want. Drop your hands, and let me take the first sock.”
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