for the last few feet, bounced, tilted,and finally righted itself. It was not a very good landing.
Don snapped the switch off and sat for a moment, looking out at thelong, low house. Then he let himself out of the flier and walked acrossthe courtyard and through the door.
The front room was empty. He looked over at the wide glass panels thatformed one side of the room. A small, dark man came from between thebushes of the inner garden. He slid a panel aside and lookedexpressionlessly at Don for a moment. Then he slowly allowed his headto drop.
"Master Donald," he said. He raised his head, looking at Don withbrilliant yellow eyes. "Your father did not expect you until two days."
"I know, Dowro. But I came home early. I want to talk to him."
"It is well." The man motioned toward a curtained arch. "He is below."
"Thanks, Dowro. I'll find him." Don swept the curtains aside andturned, to open a heavy door.
As he started down the steep flight of stairs, a sharp crack came fromthe basement. He grinned. With this kind of weather, the range would bebusy.
Kent Michaels stood on the plastic flooring, a rifle at his shoulder.The front sight weaved almost imperceptibly, then steadied. He seemedcompletely unaware of his son's presence.
Suddenly, a spurt of smoke came from the muzzle of the rifle. There wasanother sharp crack and the muzzle swept upward then dropped, to becomesteady again.
At last, the shooter took the weapon from his shoulder and opened theaction. He looked around.
"Oh, Don," he said. "Didn't expect you for a couple of days. There's noholiday down there right now, is there?"
Don shook his head. "I made a new one," he said. "Permanent type."
His father bent over the rifle action, examining it. Then he steppedover to place the weapon in a rack. Finally, he turned, to looksearchingly at his son.
"Permanent?"
"Afraid so, Dad. I guess I sort of blew up."
"Want to tell me about it?"
The older man motioned Don to a camp stool and pulled one over forhimself. As Don talked, he listened intently. At last, he nodded.
"So that's all of that, eh?"
"Guess it is, Dad. Looks as though I'll have to start working for mykeep. Won't be any police official in the family after all."
"Could be." Kent Michaels got up and reached out to the weapons rack.
"Got one more shot on this target. Then we'll talk it over, hm-m-mm?"
He stepped up to a line inlaid in the floor. Deliberately, he placed acartridge in the rifle and closed the action. Then, he raised theweapon, seated it on his shoulder, and brought it into position with atwisting motion.
Don watched, smiling in spite of himself, as the front sight rose andfell with his father's breathing. That routine never changed. From thetime the Old Man picked up his weapon till he laid it down, you couldpredict every move he'd make.
The motion stopped and for endless seconds, the man stood motionless,the muzzle of his rifle probing steadily toward the lighted spacedownrange. Then the front sight jumped upward, settled back, andsteadied again.
"Looked good." Kent Michaels let the weapon down, opened the action andchecked it, then racked the weapon. He touched a button near the firingline and waited for the target to come in to him.
Deliberately, he unclipped the sheet of paper, laid it down, andclipped another in its place. He touched another button, then picked upthe fired target and bent over it, checking his score. Finally, helooked up.
"Ninety-seven," he said. "Four X's. Think you can beat it?" He walkedback to the rack and picked out a rifle. After glancing into theaction, he held it out toward Don.
"Zero hasn't been changed since you fired it last. Want to take acouple of free ones anyway, just to be sure?"
Don looked at him indignantly.
"Good grief, Dad," he objected. "This is no time for a rifle match."
"Good as any, I'd say," his father told him. "Go ahead. There's a blockof ammo at the point. Take your time, but you'll have to make 'emgood." He sat down on his camp stool and waited.
Don looked at him for a few seconds, then shook his head resignedly andstepped up to the line.
"Oh, well," he said. "I'll try. Never mind the zero rounds."
He loaded the rifle and brought it to his shoulder. The sight weavedand bobbed. He brought it down again and looked back at his father. Theolder man pulled a cigarette from his breast pocket.
"Go ahead," he said calmly. "Take a few deep breaths. And relax."
Don bowed his shoulders and let the rifle hang loosely from hisoutstretched arms. He looked downrange, trying to drive everything outof his mind but the target hanging down there. Finally, he raised theweapon again. The sight bobbed about, then steadied. He put pressure onthe trigger, then growled softly as the weapon fired.
"Oh, no! Drifted off at three o'clock."
His father exhaled a small cloud of smoke and said nothing. Don lookedat him unhappily for a moment, then reloaded and brought the rifle upagain.
Finally, the tenth shot smacked against the backstop and he racked hisweapon and punched at the target return button.
His father got up and unclipped the sheet.
"Well, let's see," he said. "Eight, nine, nine ... here's a nipper ten... nine ... oh, me! You didn't do so well, did you?"
"What would you expect?" grumbled Don. "Give me a couple of hours tosimmer down and I'll take you on. Beat you, too."
"Suppose you got into a fight, Don?" his father asked. "Think the guy'dgive you a couple hours to simmer down? So you could maybe shoot hiseye out?"
* * * * *
He turned and led the way to a couple of lounge chairs.
"Sit down," he advised. "And turn on that light, will you?" He leanedback.
"So you gave Andy Masterson a fast outline on manners, eh?" He laughedsoftly. "Boy, I'd like to have seen his face about then!"
Don jerked his head around. "You know him, Dad?"
"You could say I did once," his father answered. "We went through Guardtraining together. Served on the same base a few times. Some years ago,I retired. I'm pretty sure he didn't."
Don pushed himself out of the chair and stood in front of his father.
"You mean Mr. Masterson is----"
Kent Michaels nodded slowly. "Stellar Guard Investigations? Yes, and Isuspect he could wear quite a bit of silver lace, too, if he wanted toget dressed up." He clasped his hands behind his head.
"Let's see, Don, you're almost twenty now. Right?"
"That's right, Dad."
"Uh huh. And you were born here on Khloris. Means I've been out ofactive duty for quite a while, at that." He smiled.
"Got papers upstairs. They say I retired a little more than twenty-oneyears ago. Got official permission to live on an outworld and joinedthe first group of colonists here. Of course, they don't say anythingabout the people that told me to do all that."
Don stared at him. "What are you getting at, Dad?"
His father smiled. "Man retires, he's supposed to be all through withduty. Not subject to recall except in case of galaxy-wide emergency."He nodded thoughtfully.
"True. But a lot of people never really retire from the Guard. Thingskeep coming up, and that pension begins to look more like a retainerfee."
He held up a hand.
"Suppose I give you a little go-around on some history that isn't inthe books--at least not in the books they use in these schools.
"Of course, you know about the arrival of the _Stellar Queen_. You'veread all about the original trade contracts here in Oredan. And you'veread a lot about the immigrations. And the border settlements.
"Yes, and you know about the accession of Daniel Stern, first to theMinistry of Finance, then to the Prime Ministry, then to the Regency.Quite a success story, that. And you have read about the mixup in theroyal succession." He smiled.
"It all went about that way. Oh, sure, it wasn't quite as peaceable andorderly as the books make
it look, but no history bothers with theminor slugfests. What they're concerned in is the big picture.
"Well, when the king agreed to colonization of the outer provinces,quite a few people came crowding out here. And there was more than alittle thievery and brawling and rioting. Naturally, the FederationCouncil was interested. And the Stellar Guard was more directlyinterested.
"So, they encouraged a lot of retired guardsmen to come out here,weapons and all. And they assigned a few more people to ... well, sortof keep an eye on things. They set some people up with reasonablydecent claims, saw to