The Helpful Hand of God

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The Helpful Hand of God Page 2

by Tom Godwin

inside.

  When they were seated in the simply-furnished room, Brenn said, "Youcame for my decision, sir?"

  "The commander sent me for it."

  Brenn folded his thin hands, which seemed to have the tremblingsometimes characteristic of the aged.

  "Yesterday evening when I came from the ship, I prayed for guidanceand I saw that I could only abide by the Golden Rule: _Do unto othersas you would have them do unto you._"

  "Which means," Kane asked, "that you will do what?"

  "Should we of the Church be stranded upon an alien world, our fuelsupply almost gone, we would ask for help. By our own Golden Rule wecan do no less than give it."

  "Eighteen hours ago I issued the order for full-scale, all-out fuelproduction. I've been up all night and day checking the operation."

  Kane stared, surprised that Y'Nor should have so correctly predictedBrenn's reaction. He tried to see some change in the old man, someevidence of the personal fear that must have broken him so quickly,but there was only weariness, and a gentleness.

  "So much fuel--" Brenn said. "Is Vogar still at war with Alkoria?"

  Kane nodded.

  "Once I saw some Alkorian prisoners of war on Vogar," Brenn said."They are a peaceful, doglike race. They never wanted to go to warwith Vogar."

  Well--they still didn't want war but on Alkoria were Elusium ores andother resources that the Vogarian State had to have before it couldcarry out its long-frustrated ambition of galactic conquest.

  "I'll go, now," Kane said, getting out of his chair, "and see whatyou're having done. The commander doesn't take anybody's word foranything."

  * * * * *

  Brenn called a turbo-car and driver to take him to the multi-purposefactory, which was located a short distance beyond the other side oftown. The driver stopped before the factory's main office, where aplump, bald man was waiting, his scalp and glasses gleaming in thesunshine.

  "I'm Dr Larue, sir," he greeted Kane. He had a face that under normalcircumstance would have been genial. "Father Brenn said you werecoming. I'm at your service, to show you what we're doing."

  They went inside the factory, where the rush of activity was like abeehive. Machines and installations not needed for fuel productionwere being torn out as quickly as possible, others taking their place.The workers--he craned his neck to verify his astonishedfirst-impression.

  All of them were women.

  "Father Brenn's suggestion," Larue said. "These girls are as competentas men for this kind of work and their use here permits the release ofmen to the outer provinces to procure the raw materials. As you know,our population is small and widely scattered--"

  A crash sounded as a huge object nearby toppled and fell. Kane took aninstinctive backward step, and bumped into something soft.

  "Oh ... excuse me, sir!"

  He turned, and had a confused vision of an apologetic smile in apretty young face, of red curls knocked into disarray--and ofamazingly short shorts and a tantalizingly wispy halter.

  She recovered the notebook she had dropped and hurried on, leaving afaint cloud of perfume in her wake and a disturbing memory of curving,golden tan legs and a flat little stomach that had been exposed bothnorth and south to the extreme limits of modesty.

  "A personnel supervisor from Beachville," Larue said. "She wassunbathing when the plane arrived to pick her up and had no time toobtain other clothing. Father Brenn firmly insisted upon losing notone minute of time during this emergency."

  A crane rumbled into view and its grapples seized the huge object thathad fallen.

  "Our central air-conditioning unit," Larue said. "It had to go."

  "You're putting something else in its place, of course?"

  "Oh yes. We must have more space but Father Brenn opposed the plan ofbuilding an annex as too dangerously time consuming. The onlyalternative is to tear out everything not absolutely essential."

  Kane left shortly afterward, satisfied that the Saints were doing asBrenn had said.

  * * * * *

  He went back out in the spring sunshine where the turbo-car was stillwaiting for him, debated briefly with himself, and dismissed thedriver. After so many weeks in the prison-like ship, it would bepleasant to walk again.

  A grassy, tree-covered ridge ran like the swell of a green seabetween the plant and the town. He stopped on top of it, where thetown was almost hidden from view, and looked out across the widevalley. Shadows moved lazily across it as cotton-puff clouds drifteddown the blue dome of the sky, great white birds like swans weresoaring overhead, calling to one another in voices like the singing ofviolins, bringing again the memories of the Lost Islands--

  "And the Vogarian lord gazed upon his world and found it good!"

  He swung around, his hand dropping to his holstered blaster, andlooked into the green, mocking eyes of a tawny-haired girl. She wasbeautiful, in the savage way that the hill leopards of Vogar werebeautiful, and her hand was on a pistol in her belt.

  Her eyes flickered from his blaster up to his face, bright withchallenge.

  "Want to try it?" she asked.

  She wore a short skirt of some rough material and her knees weredusty, as though she had walked for a long way. These things henoticed only absently, his eyes going back to the bold, beautifulface. For twenty years he had been accustomed to the women of Vogar;colorless in their Party uniforms and men's haircuts, made even moredrab by the masculine mannerisms they affected. Not since the springthe Lost Islands died had he seen a girl like the one before him.

  "Well?" she asked. "Do you think you'll know me next time?"

  He walked to her, while she watched him with catlike wariness.

  "Hand me that pistol," he ordered.

  "Try to take it, you Vogarian ape!"

  He moved, and a moment later she was sitting on the ground, her eyeswide with dismayed surprise as he shoved the pistol in his own belt.

  "Resisting a Vogarian with a deadly weapon calls for the deathpenalty," he said. "I suppose you know what I can do?"

  She got up, defiance like a blaze about her.

  "I'll tell you what you can do--you can go to hell!"

  The thought came to him that there might be considerable pleasure inlaying her over his knee and raising some blisters where they would doher the most good. He regretfully dismissed the idea as tooundignified for even a sub-ensign and asked:

  "Who are you, and what are you doing here with that pistol?"

  She hesitated, then answered with insolent coolness:

  "My name is Barbara Loring. I heard that you Vogarians had demandedthat we agree to surrender. I came down from the hills to disagree."

  "Is a resistance force meeting here?"

  "Do you think you could make me tell you?"

  "There are ways--but I'm not here to use them. I am not your enemy."

  A little of the hostility faded from her face and she asked, "But howcould a Vogarian ever not be our enemy?"

  He could find no satisfactory answer to the question.

  "I can tell you this," she said. "I know of no resistanceorganization. I can also tell you that we're not the race of cowardsyou think and we'll fight the instant Father Brenn gives the word."

  "For one who speaks respectfully of Brenn," he said, "your recentwords and actions weren't very religious and refined."

  Fire flashed in the green eyes again. "Up in the Azure Mountains,where I come from, we're not very refined and we like being that way!"

  "And why do you carry guns?" he asked.

  "Because all along our frontier lines are rhino-stags, cliff bears,thunder hawks, and a lot of other overgrown carnivora that don't likeus--that's why."

  "I see." He took the pistol from his belt and held it out to her. "Goback to your mountains, where you belong, before you do something toget yourself executed."

  * * * * *

  Y'Nor, waiting impatiently in the ship, was grimly pleased by the newsof Bre
nn's change of attitude.

  "Exactly as I predicted, as you no doubt recall. How long until theycan have a thousand units of fuel produced?"

  "Larue estimated fourteen days at best."

  Y'Nor tapped his thick fingers on his desk, scowling thoughtfully. "Aslittle as seven extra days might force Vogar to accept the Alkorianpeace terms because of lack of fuel--the natives can work twice ashard as they expected to. Tell old Brenn they will be given exactlyseven days from sunrise tomorrow.

  "And summon Dalon and Graver. I want them to make use of every man onthe ship for a twenty-four hour guard-and-inspection system in theplant. The natives will get no

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