couple days. Same operation, they should just move ita few miles, eh? Your boy with all them buttons, he takes care of that,see?" He grinned.
"And that takes care of this Michaels kid, too." Again, he poked at thepapers.
"And here, we got another report. This young Michaels' father, he talksto this guy Masterson on the phone. You see that? And right away, heheads for the mountains. Maybe he wants to talk to the hill people,eh?" His grin became wider.
"But somebody at Riandar, he gets a rush of brains to the head, see?And the border patrol, they challenge this old guy, you get it? Just aroutine check, see, but the old guy, he don't get the word so quick.
"So they don't take no chances up there. They knock him down in somecanyon up there." He shrugged.
"So all this leaves this Masterson, you could talk to him, maybe hesings us some nice music." He turned away.
"I stay around, back at my desk. Maybe I should think of a question ortwo while we talk, the three of us, eh?"
* * * * *
The royal gold and blue receded from the screen and Merle Boyce's facelooked out at his audience.
"This," he said shortly, "is the second day of the hunt for the Wellsgang." He came out from behind his desk, his piercing eyes intent.
"For the past full day, this group of robbers have made their waytoward the west. It is thought they hope to join rebellious hill tribessomewhere in the Morek region." He paused.
"Late yesterday afternoon," he continued, "these four men burned theirway through a road block near Riandar. And despite reinforced blocksand stringent sky checks, they are still at large. All subjects of therealm are urgently requested to notify the authorities of anysuspicious strangers."
He faded from the screen, to be replaced by the figures of four men.
"In co-operation with the Enforcement Corps," his voice continued, "weare showing pictures of the fugitives. We see here, Howard Wells, MerlaKoer, Dowla Wodl, and Jake Milton." The voice stopped for a moment,then continued.
"These men are regarded as extremely dangerous. Subjects are urged tomake no effort to approach them personally. Notify the authoritiesimmediately if they are seen."
Don reached to the switch and snapped the receiver off.
"I don't like it," he said slowly. "I don't like any part of it."
"Think we might have visitors?" Pete looked at him thoughtfully.
Don nodded. "It could be just a build-up," he said. "Did you get thatthrust about the tribes?"
Jasu Waern cleared his throat. "You mean those four are perhaps----"
"I doubt if those four ever lived," Don told him. "At least not withthose names. If we have visitors, they'll be more official--and a lotmore dangerous." He paused.
"Wish Dad had come back. I'd like to get you off to the hills. Not socomfortable, perhaps, but it would be safer." He looked at the ceiling.
"Of course, with all those fliers chasing around right now," he added,"it might be complicated."
Pete looked at him curiously. "One thing I can't figure, Don," heremarked. "Why didn't you head right on into the hills from Riandar?"
Don spread his hands. "Intended to, hang it," he said. "They loused meup. Remember the dipsy-doodle I turned in that box canyon?"
"Think I'd forget?" Pete grinned. "Nearly got a busted head out of thatone."
"Yeah. Well, I'd planned to jump the ridge and go on over to a clanvillage I know. We nearly caught it right there."
"We did?"
"Uh, huh. Some border patrol ship had a ripper. Lucky he gotover-anxious. He cut loose out of effective range and shook us up. Thatgave me the news and I ducked for cover and streaked for home before hecould get to us for a better shot."
"And now, you think perhaps they are trying to hunt us down as they didmy brother?" Jasu Waern shook his head. "But this--it would beimpossible to represent us as...."
Don tilted his head. "Nothing impossible about it--if they know wherewe are." He looked around the room.
"And it looks as though they do. Someone probably spotted my flier whenI landed in your courtyard."
Pete looked at him unhappily. "Maybe we moved right into his hands.Maybe we're better targets here than we were in the city."
* * * * *
Don moved his head from side to side decisively. "Never happen. Thismythical Wells gang could have been holed up in the city, too, youknow. And there, you'd have no warning. You'd have no defense andnowhere to go. This isn't some little summer cottage, you know. We cangive them a bad time."
Jasu Waern shook his head sadly. "Yes," he admitted, "we can, as yousay, give them a bad time. But a flash or two from one of theirinductors will destroy this house just as surely as it did my brother'scottage."
"Maybe." Don smiled. "I've got some ideas on that, too. But there'smore to this house than you see from outside. This place was builtduring the border wars, you know. We've got a place to duck to."
Pete stood up. "What's that?"
"There's a basement under this house. Shelters down there. Even totalinductor destruction of the house wouldn't hurt anyone down there." Donpointed with a thumb.
"Got entry locks right out in the court."
"But their clean-up crews. Where would you hide from them?"
Don shook his head, smiling. "They won't do too much searching," hesaid calmly. "If they actually do attack this place, they'll get somegenuine resistance. And there'll be a Federation patrol out here rightafter the shooting, to investigate the destruction of a GalacticCitizen's property."
His smile broadened. "At least, that'll be a good excuse. You see, Mr.Masterson's alerted people at the Commissioner's office. They knowwho's here--or will, when the shooting starts."
"But with this build-up, it will seem like an ordinary hunt for acriminal gang." Pete shook his head doubtfully.
"No, I don't think so." Don walked over to the heavy door leading tothe range.
"Better get some of the weapons up here now, though. We'll have to givethem a little show."
Pete looked at him curiously.
"Why bother?" he asked. "Why can't we just duck into the shelter andlet 'em blast? Then we could wait for the patrol."
Don shook his head.
"The type of resistance offered will be a tip-off to the Guard," hesaid. "I'm going to use an unusual type of weapon. Besides, Stern'speople have detectors. Remember those? There's got to be life force indetector range, or they'll assume we've either deserted the place orfound refuge below ground. Then they would come in for sure. And they'dreally search the place." He smiled grimly.
"I'd rather take my chances on getting shelter from a blast after theycommit themselves than take on a batch of those monkeys in ahand-to-hand down in the basement." His smile faded.
"It'll be touch and go, at that. The force of an inductor blast isnothing to joke about. We can roll into the ledges and hope, but westill might get singed a little." He sighed and spread his hands.
"Well, I asked for work. Guess I've got it. Sorry you may get scorchedaround the edges, but----"
Pete looked at the heavy wall on the other side of the outer court.
"At least, we've got a better chance than Uncle Harle had. Theyprobably tied him up. And no matter----" He shrugged.
"All right, Don, let's get those weapons."
Illustrated by van Dongen]
"Well, here they come." Don Michaels looked out of a weapons embrasure.
From the port, the advancing men were far more visible than theyintended to be. One after another, they crawled and dashed through thegrass, their weapons held before them. They concealed themselves fromthe house as best they could behind hummocks and clumps of grass. Then,weapons probing toward the house, they waited.
A couple of hundred meters from the house, a weapons carrier purredinto position, wheeled to face the house, and stopped, the muted roarof its motor dying to a faint rumble.
Closer to the house, there was a hollow i
n the earth, a scar from somelong-forgotten skirmish. Over the years, rain and wind had worked onit, softening its once harsh outlines. Grass had grown in, to furthermask the crater, till now it was a mere smooth depression in theground. From the edge of this depression, rose the slender rod of aspeaker, a small, directional loud-speaker blossoming from it.
Michaels grinned and turned aside for an instant.
"Just like the big broadcasts, Pete," he