“Murder and felonious assault upon a peace-loving and unoffending tribe called the Brigantes including the slaughter of half a commando.
“Massacre of a convoy of peaceful commercial people going about their business and viciously and maliciously slaughtering them to the last man.”
"Psychlos," said Jonnie. “They were Psychlos organizing an attack upon this capital.”
“That's stricken from the records!” said Brown Limper. Indeed, he would have to erase it from this disc. “You are not on trial. These are just the charges that have been brought against you by decent and deserving citizens of this planet. Remain silent and hear the charges!
“It is noted by the court,” continued Brown Limper-how he had slaved over this parlance from ancient books; he hoped he had it all right and legal-'that numerous other charges could be brought but at this time have not been brought.”
“Such as?” said Jonnie, indifferent to this clown.
“When you seized the remote control panel from one Terl and launched the drone against man, it has also been stated that you then and thereupon shot down said Terl when he was in the act of trying to shoot down the drone. However, there being witnesses, undoubtedly perjured and extorted by you to speak false testimony, who speak otherwise, the charges have not been included at this time, though of course they may be brought at some later date.”
“So that's all you could come up with,” said Jonnie, with irony. “Nothing about stealing babies' milk? I’m surprised!”
“You won't be so arrogant when you hear the rest of this,” threatened Brown Limper. “I am an impartial judge and this is a legal and impartial court. In the interim time pending your trial, you are forbidden to use any more of my...l mean, Council property such as planes, cars, houses, equipment, or tools!”
Brown Limper had him! Quick as a flash he pulled out the bill of sale of the Earth branch of the Intergalactic Mining Company and thrust it at Tyler.
Tyler took it and looked at it. “For a sum of two billion credits, one Terl, duly authorized representative of the party of the first part which shall hereafter be called the party of the first part, did hereby convey all lands, mines, minesites, compounds, planes, tools, machinery, cars, tanks...on and on....to the Council of Earth, the duly elected and authorized government of said planet, to have and to hold forever and from this day forward.” It was signed "Terl," but Jonnie, who knew Terl's signature, saw that it must have been written with the wrong paw. He started to put it in his pouch.
“No, no!” shouted Brown Limper. “That is the original!” He fussed around in the papers on his desk and handed over a copy and exchanged it for the original. Jonnie put the copy in his pouch.
“And not only that,” said Brown Limper, “the whole planet was the property of Intergalactic and there is a deed for that as well!” He started to hand over the original, thought better of it, found a copy, and handed it over.
Jonnie glanced at it. Terl had actually sold these fools their planet!
“The deeds are valid,” said Brown Limper pompously. “That is, they will be when fully recorded.”
“Where?” said Jonnie.
“On Psychlo, of course,” said Brown Limper. “Out of the goodness of his heart and in spite of the trouble, Terl himself will take these deeds there and get them fully recorded.”
“When?” said Jonnie.
“Just as soon as he can rebuild the apparatus you feloniously and maliciously destroyed, Tyler!"
“And he's taking the money with him?”
“Of course! He has to turn it in to his company. He is an honest man!”
"Psychlo," corrected Jonnie.
"Psychlo," corrected Brown Limper, and then instantly became furious with himself for permitting this judicial proceeding to assume other than a judicial tone.
“So therefore,” said Brown Limper, reading, “and as stated nothwithstanding, in accordance with the legal tribal rights of the said Jonnie Goodboy Tyler, he is hereby placed under house arrest in his own home in the meadow and is herewith and hereby not to quit said home and said vicinity until hailed before a World Court, duly to be constituted under the authority of the Council, said Council being duly elected and invested with the total authority of total government of Earth. Hey man!” He had thought the last religious note gave it style and he now sat proudly on the bench. “So unless the prisoner has some last request...”
Jonnie had been thinking hard and quickly. He had never before paid much attention to Brown Limper, and such malice, falsehood, and evil was a little surprising. There was a fueled battle plane in the hangar at the compound.
“Yes,” said Jonnie. “There is a request. If I am going to the meadow, I would like to pick up my horses first.”
“Those and your house are all the property you own now, so it is only fit that you do so. Out of courtesy and feelings for the rights of the prisoner, and possibly even out of a fatherly feeling for him as his own Mayor, I grant request so long as you go at once from there straight to the village in the meadow and into your house!”
Jonnie looked at him with contempt and strode from the room.
Brown Limper, eyes overbright, watched him go. That would be the end of Tyler! He let out a shuddering sigh. What a relief all this was! And how long sought? Twenty years. No, this was not revenge. He had to do it. Duty demanded it! The peoples of Earth would now be wholly in good hands-his, Brown Limper's. He would do his very best for them, as he was doing now. Despite the toil it cost him.
Chapter 6
The incident that would later become known as “The Murder of Bittie MacLeod," which would bring the planet toward war, cost many men their lives, and later become the subject of ballads, romances and legend, began at noon that day with Bittie's unfortunate spotting of Jonnie in the capital area of Denver.
When the head of the Russian contingent had been given orders in Africa to close the American underground base, it was very plain to the Russians that neither they nor Jonnie would thereafter be resident in America, which brought up the subject of horses. Horses were wealth to the Russians; they had developed a small herd of their own in America and they were not going to abandon them.
Bittie MacLeod considered himself responsible for Jonnie's horses. He informed Colonel Ivan in no uncertain terms that he must go along with them to bring back Jonnie's horses. When objections were raised, he doggedly countered them: he was with the Russians and he would be safe; the horses knew him; Windsplitter, Dancer, Old Pork, and Blodgett would be frightened on the long plane ride unless they had somebody soothing them they knew they could trust. After hours of this, Colonel Ivan gave in.
The Russians, just before dawn of that day, had thoroughly closed the American underground base as well as the nuclear missile store. If anyone tried to get into them now who didn't know the way or have the keys, they would be blown to bits. Planes had been arranged for the return, any material they were taking back abroad was already loaded, and before dawn that day they had left the base in a small convoy of trucks and cars to do their last job: pick up the horses from the plains.
The way from the base led through the ancient ruins of Denver and few of the Russians had ever been there. Further, recently they had begun to get paid. They were going home and they had sisters and wives and sweethearts, mothers and friends.
A few tiny stores had opened lately in Denver, the proprietors from other places, the customers the people of the world making pilgrimages to the minesite. The goods were salvaged and repaired items from the ruins of sprawling cities and even some new products of native tribes. Dresses, shoes, cloth, jewelry, utensils, souvenirs, and relics were the main stocks in trade. The stores were few and widely scattered.