“Thank you. Now there is one more thing that is not quite that simple. Some children died, of insect bites, when we were passing through the jungle. You all know about it. I had a difficult decision to make. I did not stop the trains so the doctor could attend to them. Perhaps I was wrong. Stopping might have saved them. But I put the safety of all ahead of the few. It is on my conscience. If we had stopped the doctor might have been able to do something…”
“No!” Otakar said loudly. “He could do nothing. I heard him. Old Becker had him in and was shouting at him. But he is a Rosbagh and they only get pigheaded when shouted at. He was shouting hack saying that he could have done nothing to save the children, other than administer the anti-toxin, which already had been done. He blamed the people who permitted the windows to be open, even Becker himself.”
“Wish I could have listened to that!” Emo said.
“You and me both,” Ryzo agreed warmly.
“Thank you. I appreciate hearing that,” Jan said. “For a number of reasons. You’ve now heard the details of the two charges against me. I think they are false accusations. But if the Family Heads want me to stand trial on them, I will.”
“Why trial?” Otakar asked. “An investigation perhaps, but a trial only after the charges have been substantiated. That is the only fair thing.”
The others nodded agreement and Jan waited until the murmured comments had died away. “I’m glad we agree about that,” he said. “So now I can tell you what has happened. While you were all enjoying yourselves, the Family Heads held a meeting in secret. They had me seized and imprisoned. Then had a trial on these charges — without me being there — and found me guilty. If I had not escaped I would be dead by now because that was their verdict.”
They heard his words with utter disbelief. Their shock was replaced with anger as the truth of the situation sank in.
“Don’t take my word for this,” Jan said. “It is too important. Rein and the other Proctor are locked in and they’ll tell you…”
“I don’t want to hear what Rein has to say, Otakar shouted. “He lies too much. I believe you, Jan, we all believe you.” The others nodded agreement. “Just tell us what we have to do. People must be told. They can’t get away with this:’
“They will,” Jan said, “unless we stop them. Just telling people won’t be enough. Can you see any of the Taekeng standing up to the old man? No, I didn’t think so. I am willing to go on trial, I want to do it. But by the Book of the Law. In public, with all evidence heard. I want this whole thing out in the open. But the Family Heads will try to stop that. We are going to have to force them to do it.”
“How?”
There was silence now for they were waiting, eager to help. But would they go far enough? Jan knew instinctively that if they thought about what they were going to do they would not do it. But if they acted in unison and in anger they might do it. And once done, they would not be able to turn back. They were thinking revolutionary thoughts — now they must consider revolutionary deeds. He weighed his words.
“Without power nothing moves. Emo, what’s the easiest way to take the engines out of service temporarily? Remove the computer programming units?”
“Too big a job,” the engineer said, immersed in the technical problem, not considering the enormity of the crime they were discussing. “I would say pull the multiple connector plug to the controls. In fact pull the plug at both ends and take the whole cable out. Done in a couple of seconds.”
“Fine. Then we’ll do just that. Pull them from the tanks too. Bring them to number six tank, the big one. Then we’ll wake everyone up and tell them what has happened. Make them have the trial right now. When it’s over we put the cables back and go back to work. What do you say?”
He put no emphasis on the last question, though this was the most important decision of all. The point of no return, beyond which there was no turning back. If they realized they were taking all of the power of decision, the real power of the world, into their own hands, they might have second thoughts. A moment’s wavering and he was lost.
They were technicians, mechanics — and never thought of it in that manner. They just wanted to right an obvious wrong.
There were shouts of agreement, then they were busy in assigning the various tasks, getting the operation into motion. Only Ryzo Santos did not join in the excitement but sat with wide, intelligent eyes watching Jan all the while. Jan gave him no assignment, and soon he was alone with the silent communications officer. He spoke only when the others had left.
“Do you know what you are doing, Jan?”
“Yes. And you do too. I’m breaking all the rules and making new ones.
“It is more than that. Once broken, the rules will never be the same again. The Family Heads will not want to do this…”
“They will be made to do it.”
“I know. And I can put a word to this even if you will not. It is revolution, isn’t it?”
After a long moment’s silence Jan spoke, looking at the other man’s grim face. “Yes, it is. Do you find the idea distasteful?”
Ryzo’s face broke slowly into a wide grin. “Distasteful? I think it’s wonderful. It is just what should happen, what is written in Class and Labor, the Eternal Struggle.”
“I never heard of it.”
“I don’t think many people have. I got it from one of the ship’s crew. He said it was an invisible book, listed nowhere, but some reference copies did exist and duplicates had been made of them.”
“You’re on dangerous ground…”
“I know. He said he would bring more — but I never saw him again.”
“Easy enough to guess what happened to him. Then you are in with me on this? It will be bigger than you can possibly imagine.”
Ryzo clasped Jan’s hand in both of his own. “All the way! Every step of the way.”
“Good. Then you can help me with one thing. I want you to come with me to the warehouse where Rein and the other Proctor are locked up. They were ready to carry out the death sentence so they both know about the secret trial. They are our witnesses to what happened.”
A few early risers were already stirring as they walked back to the warehouse. The street door was still ajar as Jan had left it.
But the storeroom door was open as well and the two Proctors were gone.
Twelve
Jan took a quick look around; the rest of the warehouse was as empty as the storeroom.
“Where are they?” Ryzo asked.
“It doesn’t matter. This means trouble so we had better start it before they do. Get them off balance if we can. Come on.
They ran now, ignoring the startled looks, pounding heavily through the dust to the row of silent tanks. They were undisturbed. Jan slowed to a panting walk.
“Still ahead of them,” he said. “We’ll go on as planned.”
They climbed into tank six and started the engines. This would be the only piece of moving apparatus not incapacitated. Jan trundled it slowly down the Central Way and drew it up before the pressure dome.
People were beginning to stir now, but the preparations to immobilize the tanks and engines still went ahead smoothly. At first the conspirators had moved guiltily, trying to avoid being noticed, until they had realized that no one paid them the slightest heed. They were just technicians going about their usual inexplicable tasks. Once they had realized this they carried the cables openly, calling out to one another with secret glee. It was all very exciting.
Not for Jan. He sat at the tank controls staring at the screens, watching the first of the men stroll up with a set of cables; his fist, unnoticed, pounded slowly on the panel beside him. Then another technician, then a third appeared. Ryzo sat in the open hatch above and passed down the cables to Jan as they arrived.