button in his lapel.
"They were in the wrong and they knew it. They've got enough troublenow. Why should they look for more?"
Pete shook his head again. "They didn't have to give their names," hesaid. "All you did was tell them to."
"What else could they do? After all, you know who Gerry is. So he hadno out."
Pete laughed wryly. "Who'd take my word? Besides, Gerry's shovedguardians around before. He's got friends all over school. Ever hear ofthe 'Hunters'?"
"Who hasn't? Supposed to be some sort of gang, but I've never talked toanyone that knew much about who they are, or what they do." Don wasthoughtful. "Supposed to be all galactic kids. I've heard the policeare trying to break them up. Those three part of that bunch?"
Pete nodded wordlessly.
Don's eyebrows rose a little. "Prove that," he remarked, "and it won'tjust be the school that'll be giving them trouble. The police wouldprobably give a lot to really get their hands on some of them."
"I'm not so sure about that," Pete told him. "It was my uncle who wasinterested in the Hunters. Now, it's different. Maybe the guy that wentand got the proof of their membership would be the one who'd have thetrouble. Real, final type trouble."
"What's that?"
"Look, I just told you. Among other things, my uncle was interested inthe Hunters." Pete bent his knees and took a squatting position. Hiselbows rested on his knees and he relaxed, resting his chin on foldedhands and looking up at Don.
"Seems as though some other people didn't like to have him asking toomany questions around." He paused.
"You think my uncle was getting a lot of money from the gamblers andsome smuggling combine. That right?"
"Well----" Don hesitated.
"Sure you do. So does everybody else. The galactics are telling eachother about why don't they get somebody in authority besides somestupid Khlorisana. And the Khlorisanu talk about the old nobility--howthey can't stop robbing the people. It all goes along with what thepapers have been saying. There's been more, too, but those briberycharges are what they've really worked on. They keep telling you someof the same stuff on the newscasts. And everybody believes them. But itisn't true. My uncle was an honest policeman. They got him out of theway because he wouldn't deal with them--and maybe for...." He held outa hand.
"Figure it out. Why didn't they just give him a trial and put him intoprison if he were guilty? Or, if they were going to have an execution,why not make it legal--over in Hikoran?" He paused, then waved the handas Don started to speak.
"They didn't dare have a trial. It would be too public, and there wasno real evidence. So they say he escaped. They say he slugged aguard--took his weapons. And he's supposed to have shot his way out ofKhor Fortress, after releasing some other prisoners. They say he forcedhis way clear from Hikoran to the Doer valley." He laughed bitterly.
"Did you ever see Khor Fortress?
"And you should have seen my uncle. He was a little, old man. He'dstand less chance of beating up some guard and taking his weapons thanI would have of knocking out all three of those fellows a few minutesago." Again, he paused, looking at Don searchingly.
"I don't know why I'm telling you all this, unless maybe I better tellsomeone while I'm still around to talk," he added.
"Now wait." Don shook his head. "Aren't you making----"
"A great, big thing? No." Pete shook his head decidedly. "I've talkedto my uncle. I've heard my uncle and father talk about things. And ...well, maybe I've gotten mixed up in things a little, too. Maybe I'mreally mixed up in things, and maybe----" He stopped talking suddenlyand got to his feet.
"No, my uncle didn't escape. That whole affair was staged, so theywouldn't have to bring him to trial. Too many things would have comeout, and they could never make a really legal case. This way ... thisway, he can't talk. No one can defend him now, and no one will ask toomany questions." He turned away.
"Oh, listen." Don was impatient. "That flight developed into a nationalaffair. All kinds of witnesses. It was spread out all over the map.People got killed. Who could set up something like that and make itlook genuine?"
Pete didn't look around.
"Look who got killed. A lot of old-line royalists," he said shortly."And some of the Waernu. You think my uncle would kill his ownclansmen?" He expelled an explosive breath.
"And there's one man who could set up something like that. He doesn'tlike the old royalists very well, either. And he hates the Waernu.Think it over." He walked quickly out of the room.
* * * * *
Don looked after him for a few seconds, then sat down and fixed anunseeing gaze on the far wall of the locker room.
"Gaah!" he told himself, "the kid really pulled the door open. Wonderwhy he picked me?"
Come to think of it, he wondered, why was it people seemed to tell himthings they never mentioned to anyone else? And why was it they seemedto get a sort of paralysis when he barked at them? He scratched an ear.He couldn't remember the time when the ranch hands hadn't jumped to dowhat he wanted--if he really wanted it. The only person who seemed tobe immune was Dad. He grinned.
"Imagine anyone trying to get the Old Man into a dither--and gettingaway with it."
He laughed and looked at the wall for a few more seconds, then opened abook.
"Wonder," he said to himself. "Seems as though anyone should be able todo it--if they were sure they were right." Then he shook his head."Only one trouble with that idea," he added. "They don't." He shruggedand turned his attention to the book in his hands.
The click of heels on the flooring finally caused him to look up. Heexamined the new arrival, then smiled.
"Oh, hello, Jack."
"Hi, Don." The other looked at the array of books. "You look busyenough. Catching up on your skull-work?"
"Yeah. Guy has to study once in a while, just to pass the time away.Besides, this way, the prof doesn't have to spend so much money on redpencils."
"Yeah, sure." Jack Bordelle grinned. "Be terrible if he went brokebuying red leads. I go to a lot of trouble myself to keep that fromhappening." He paused, looked sideways at Don, then rubbed his cheek.
"Speaking of trouble, I hear you had a little scrape here at thebeginning of the period."
"That right? Where'd you get that word?"
"Seems as though Gerry Kelton didn't make it to class in time. Teacherran him out for a late slip and he got me to write him up. He's prettysore."
Don frowned. "Funny he'd need a late slip. He already had a write-up."He shrugged. "Oh, well. I should get excited about making some of thelower school crowd sore?"
Bordelle lifted one shoulder. "Well, Michaels, you know your ownbusiness, I guess, but Kelton's got a lot of friends around, they tellme."
"Yeah. I've heard." Don looked steadily at the other.
"And, well----" Bordelle examined the toes of his shoes carefully."Well, maybe you ought to think it over about turning in those slipsyou wrote up, huh?"
"Think so?"
"Well, I would." Bordelle looked up, then down again. "You know, I'veknown a few guys, crossed the Keltons. Right away, they foundthemselves all tangled up with the Hunters. Makes things a littlerugged, you know?"
"A little rugged, huh?"
"Yeah." Bordelle spread his hands. "Look, Michaels, I've got nothing inthis one. It's just ... well, I've known you for a few years now--eversince Lower School. Been in some classes with you. And you seem like apretty decent, sensible guy. Hate to see you walk into a jam, see?Especially over some native kid with a stinking family record." Hepaused.
"Of course, it's your own business, but if it were me, I'd tear upthose slips, you know?"
"Easy to tear up slips. Only one trouble. They're numbered. How wouldyou explain the missing numbers?"
"Well, guys lose books now and then, remember? Maybe they wouldn'tholler too loud."
Don smiled. "I knew a guy once that lost a book. They took it prettyhard. Got real rough about it."
Bordelle
shrugged. "Yeah. But maybe Al Wells might not be so roughabout it this time, huh? He might just sort of forget it, if you toldhim you just sort of ... well, maybe you were checking the incineratoron your way to the office, and the book slipped out of your pocket--youknow?"
"You think it could happen that way?"
"It could--easy."
Don stood up.
"Tell you," he said, "I might lose a book some day. But they don't comebig enough to make me throw one away." He picked up his books and putthem under his arm.
"I'm going to turn those slips in tonight. Maybe you'd better turn inthe one you wrote up, too. Then nobody'll get burned for losing abook."
"I always thought you were a pretty sensible guy, Michaels." Bordelleshook his head. "After all, you stopped that beef. Nobody got hurt, andyou've got nothing to prove about yourself. Know what I mean? So whythe big, high nose all at once?"
A bell clanged and the crash and roar of students dashing about echoedthrough the halls. Don shrugged carelessly.
"Oh, I don't know. Can't even explain it to myself. Maybe I just don'tlike people pushing other people around. Maybe I don't like to bethreatened. Maybe I've even got bit by some of those principlesMasterson's always talking about. I don't know." He turned away.
"Well, this is the end of my school day. See you."
Bordelle looked after him.
"Yeah," he said softly. "It's the end of your day all right. Betterlook out it doesn't turn out to be the end of all your days."
* * * * *
Don glanced down at his textbook, then looked out the window. A blanketof dark clouds obscured the sky. Light rain filtered coldly down, todiffuse the greenery of the school grounds, turning the scene outsideinto a textured pattern of greens, dotted here and there with a reddishblur. To the west, the mist completely hid the distant mountains.
It would be cold outside--probably down around sixteen degrees or so.It had dropped to fifteen this morning, and unless the weather clearedup, there'd be no point in going up to the hills this weekend. TheKorental and his clan would be huddled in their huts, waiting forwarmer weather. A wild Ghar hunt would be the last thing they'd beinterested in. Besides, the Gharu would be----
He jerked his attention back to the classroom. A student was reciting.
"... And ... uh, that way, everything was all mixed up with the taxesand the government couldn't get enough money. So King Weronar knew he'dhave to get someone to help un ... straighten the taxes out, so he ...uh, well, Daniel Stern had been in the country for a couple of years,and he had ... well, sort of advised. So the king----"
Don looked out the window again.
With this weather, the ranch would be quiet. Hands would be all in thebunkhouses, crowding around the stoves. Oh, well, he and Dad could foolaround down in the range. Since Mom had---- He jerked his head aroundto face the instructor.
Mr. Barnes was looking at him.
"Um-m-m, yes. That's good, Mara," he said. "Michaels, suppose you go onfrom there."
Don glanced across at the student who had just finished her recitation,but she merely gave him a blankly unfriendly stare. He looked back atthe instructor.
"I lost the last few sentences," he admitted. "Sorry."
Barnes smiled sardonically. "Well, there's an honest admission," hesaid. "What's the last you picked up?"
Don shrugged resignedly.
"The appointment of Daniel Stern as Minister of Finance," he said."That would be in eight twelve."
"You didn't miss too much." Barnes nodded. "You just got a littleahead. Take it from there."
"After a few months, the financial affairs of the kingdom began toimprove," Don commenced.
"By the middle of eight thirteen, the tax reforms were in full effect.There was strong opposition to the elimination of the old system--bothfrom the old nobility, who had profited by it, and from some of thecolonists. But an Enforcement Corps was formed to see that the newtaxes were properly administered and promptly paid. And the kingdombecame financially stable." He paused.
Actually, he realized with a start, it had been Stern who had foundedand trained the Enforcement Corps--first to enforce the revenue taxes,and later as a sort of national police force. And it had always beenStern who had controlled the Enforcement Corps. It was almost a privatearmy, in fact. Maybe Pete---- He continued his recitation.
"Then Prime Minister Delon died rather ... rather suddenly, and theking appointed Mr. Stern to the vacancy. And when King Weronar himselfdied a little more than four years ago, Prime Minister Stern wasacclaimed as prince regent." Don paused thoughtfully.
* * * * *
Delon's death had been sudden--and a little suspicious. But no one hadquestioned Stern or any of his people about it. And the death of theking and queen themselves--now there was.... Again, he got back to hisrecitation.
"There was opposition to Mr. Stern's confirmation as Regent, of course,since he was a galactic and not native to the planet. But he was theprime minister, and therefore the logical person to take the reins." Hefrowned.
"The claims to the throne were--and still are--pretty muddled. No oneof the claimants supported by the major tribes is clearly first in linefor the throne, and no compromise has been reached." The frowndeepened.
"Traditionally," he went on, "the Star Throne should never be vacantfor more than five years. So we can expect to see a full conclave ofthe tribes within a few months, to choose among the claimants andselect one to be either head of the clan Onar, or the founder of a newroyal line."
Barnes nodded. "Yes, that's fairly clear. But we must remember, ofcourse, that the tradition you mention is no truly binding law orcustom. It's merely a superstitious belief, held to by some of theolder people, and based on ... well----" He smiled faintly.
"Actually, under the present circumstances, with no claimant clearly inline, and with the heraldic branch still sifting records, it is farmore practical and sensible to recognize the need for a continuedregency." He took a step back and propped himself against his desk.
"In any event, most of the claimants of record are too young forindependent rule, so the regency will be forced to carry on for sometime."
He looked for a fleeting instant at the inconspicuous monitor speakeron the wall.
"As matters stand now, the tribes might find it impossible to decide onany of the claimants. As you said, there is no truly clear line. KingWeronar died childless, you remember, and his queen didn't designate afoster son." He shrugged.
"Well, we shall see," he added. "Now, suppose we go back a little,Michaels. You said there was some opposition from the colonists to thetax reforms of eight twelve. Can you go a little more into detail onthat?"
Don touched his face. He'd been afraid of that. Somehow, neither thebook nor the lectures really jibed with some of the things he'd heardhis father talk about. Something about the whole situation just didn'tmake full sense. He shrugged mentally. Well....
The door opened and a student runner came into the room. Don watchedhim walk up to Mr. Barnes with some relief. Maybe, after theinterruption, someone else would be picked to carry on.
The youngster came to the desk and handed a slip to the instructor, whoread it, then looked up.
"Michaels," he said, "you seem to have some business at theself-government office. You may be excused to take care of it."
* * * * *
Al Wells looked up as Don entered the office.
"What's the---- Oh, Michaels. Got some questions for you on that rowyou stopped in the locker room yesterday."
"Oh? I thought my write-up was pretty clear. What's up?"
The self-government chairman leaned back.
"You said this Gerry Kelton banged into this kid, Waern, startedpushing him around, and struck him once. That right?"
Don nodded. "That's about what happened, yes."
"And there was no provocation?"
"
None that I saw."
"And you saw the whole affair?"
"Everything that happened in the locker room. Yes."
"Uh huh. And you said that two guys, Walt Kelton and Maurie VanSickle,pinned this kid's arms while Gerry started to slug him. That it?"
Don smiled. "He only got in one slap before I mixed in," he said. "Hadhis fist all cocked for more, though."
Wells nodded, looking curiously at Don.
"But they quit and turned the kid loose when you told them to?"
"That's right."
"Didn't give you any trouble?"
"No." Don shook his head. "Just some talk. Gave their names and classnumbers. Oh, yeah, they squawked a little, sure. Then they took off forclass."
Wells looked at Michaels appraisingly.
"Know anything about this Gerry Kelton?"
Don shook his head. "Heard a rumor or so last night," he admitted."Never