"You'll have people to fight if tonight's trouble's repeated-and I don't doubt it will be if you insist on setting yourself up to resist the whole climate of public opinion! We've got enough on our hands with the Fireclown investigation-crowds demanding to know when we're going to catch him, rabble-rousers shouting that-we must prepare for war, and all the rest of it."
The escort leader shrugged. "We can't be held responsible if you deliberately risk being mobbed."
"Thank you, officer." Alan followed Helen into the apartment. The door closed.
"So I’m supposed to stay boxed in here, am I?" she said bitterly. "Meanwhile I've got to try and convince people that they're wrong."
"It's useless," he said hollowly, going into the sitting-room and slumping down in a chair.
"What did you find out in London?"
"Everything."
"Even what Bias is up to?"
He told her, slowly and wearily, all that had happened.
"So we were right," she said thoughtfully. "But Uncle Simon-that's incredible."
"Yes, isn't it?" He smiled cynically. "And our hands are virtually tied. We've got to do some cool thinking, Helen."
She was calmer now. She seemed to notice, for the first time, that he was exhausted.
"We'd better sleep on it," she said. "We may feel more optimistic in the morning.
As they breakfasted, Alan switched on the laser. "Let's see what's happened in the world this morning," he said.
"… petition urging the government to speed up its defense plans," mouthed the newscaster. Then he leaned forward urgently. "For those who missed our early edition, the first attacks by the Fireclown have begun! Two nuclear bomb explosions have been observed-one in the Atlantic and one in the Gobi Desert. So far nobody has been reported hurt, but it will be impossible to know for certain for some time yet. Where will the Fireclown's next bomb strike? Swiss City? New York? Berlin? We don't know. Emergency shelters are being erected and bomb detector teams are covering the areas around the main cities to try and discover hidden bombs. Meanwhile, in Britain, mystery fires have devastated important public buildings. The National Gallery is smoldering wreckage-the marvelous architectural beauty of Gateshead Theatre is no more. Precautions are being taken to protect other such buildings throughout the planet. There is little doubt that the Fire-clown-or his die-hard supporters here-was responsible!"
"That's all Bias's work," Alan said angrily. "How are we going to prove it?"
"Look," Helen pointed at the screen. Simon Powys had appeared, looking dignified and grave.
"My fellow citizens of the Solar System, I am speaking to you in troubled times.
As I predicted a short while ago, the Fireclown has attacked the globe. He has been offered no hostility, we have intended him no harm. But nevertheless he has attacked. We must defend ourselves. If we had to manufacture bombs and other weapons for defense we should be wiped out before we had any chance. Luckily the Solar Government has been offered arms." Powys paused as if saddened by the task he had to perform. "A group of men-criminals we should have called them but a few hours ago, but now we are more than thankful to them- have offered us a supply of arms. We are going to purchase them, on your behalf, and set them up around the planet. This will have to be done swiftly, and already bodies of volunteers are working on emergency installations. Let us hope we shall be in time to avert our peril. When I next speak to you, perhaps we shall know."
"The devil!" Helen swore. "He's obviously completely in Bias's power. He knows that Bias will use him to control Earth-that we're threatened with a military dictatorship, and yet, in his pride, he still refuses to stop. Doesn't he know what he's doing?"
"He's gone so far now that he can't go back. His hate for the Fireclown and love for his own political ambitions have combined and, in a sense I'm sure, turned him insane! Maybe he can't even see the extent of his treachery."
"We've got to do something to stop him, Alan." Helen spoke quietly.
"Like what?"
"First we'll try to convince Sandai. Then, if that fails, we'll have to kill him."
"Helen! Killing him won't do any good. What could we do? Set up another dictatorship to control the people? Don't you see that if we continue this violence we'll breed more violence ad infinitum? We've got to use legal means against him. Otherwise, society as we know it is finished!"
"Then what other alternative is there?"
"First we'll see Sandai," he said. "Then we'll decide."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
IT took time to get to see Sandai. It took over a day. By the time they walked into his office they were looking very tired indeed. So was Sandai.
"If you've come to tell me that the Fireclown's innocent of these outrages," he said, wiping his olive forehead, "I'm not interested."
Alan stood over the seated police chief, his hands resting on the man's desk.
"That's part of it, Chief Sandai. But that's not all. I have heard the man responsible confess his guilt to me!"
"You've what?" Sandai looked up, astonished.
"The man responsible for framing the Fireclown, for setting off the bombs and causing the fires in Britain, is a man named Bias."
"Bias? Francois Bias? He's suspected head of the arms syndicate." Sandai looked thoughtful. "It's a possibility, Mr. Powys. But what proof have you? How did you find out?"
"I heard that Bias had his headquarters in Mayfair. I went there and discovered he was running an organization calling itself the Sons of the Fireclown."
"So Bias is working for the Fireclown?"
"No. The thing was definitely spurious. Bias was using it for his own ends.
Later I broke into Bias's apartment and confronted him with what I knew and what I suspected. He denied nothing. He told me to prove it-which I couldn't do. I then brought him and another man back to the capital…"
"Who was the other man?"
"Junnar, my grandfather's secretary."
"You mean you suspect he's been working against Minister Powys? That's fantastic-if it's true."
"He's been working with Powys," Alan said firmly. "Bias and my grandfather are hand-in-glove-they plan to use the war scare they've created and the fear of the Fireclown to hold the Earth to ransom. You heard yesterday's announcement-about Powys having to buy bombs from the syndicate. It's a set-up, Chief Sandai!"
"Young man, you're evidently deranged." Sandai stood up and patted Alan's arm sympathetically.
"Listen to him!" Helen said urgently. "Listen, Chief Sandai. It sounds impossible, but it's a fact."
"And the proof?" Sandai said gently.
"As circumstantial as that against the Fireclown," Alan pointed out.
"But the Fireclown is a renegade-your grandfather is virtually the leader of the Solar System. That's the difference, Mr. Powys. I'm sorry, but your defense of the Fireclown doesn't hold up. Why don't you admit that and work with the rest of us to avert the menace?"
"It's the truth," Alan said. He felt the energy go out of his body, his shoulders slump.
"I'm very busy," Sandai said. "You'd better leave now."
As they crossed the sunny gardens of the Top, Helen said to him: "That didn't work. What do we do now, Alan?"
"Watch the world die," he said hopelessly.
"The whole lot of them deserve death for what they're doing," she said cautiously.
"Maybe. But the law banished the death sentence over a hundred years ago. We want to preserve the law, Helen, not demolish it further!"
"If only we could contact the Fireclown. Maybe he could help us."
"He's journeying off somewhere in that ship of his, conducting his experiment.
There's no hope there, anyway. He's not interested in Earth's problems, you know that."