The Planet Killers

Chapter XIV

Gardner stood at the entrance to the concentric series of offices that led inward to Security Chief Karnes’ office. He felt uncertain and tired. It was only hours since he had landed on Earth; Lori had gone to a hotel, Smee to the Security medical department. Gardner had not warned anyone of his return.

He was not in uniform, and he was conscious of his shabby, travelworn appearance as he presented himself at the front reception desk. The clerk, a recruit Security man, glanced up suspiciously.

“Yes?”

“I’d like to see Chief Karnes.”

“The Chief is in conference, sir. Do you have an appointment? I could ring him if—”

“No, I don’t have an appointment,” Gardner said wearily. “But he’ll see me if you tell him who I am. Ring him up and tell him Agent Gardner is here to see him and make a report.”

The receptionist frowned quizzically. “Very well. He’ll be free to take calls in half an hour. If you don’t mind waiting…”

“I do mind waiting,” Gardner said icily. “Call him now.”

“But—”

“Call him, you ninny, and don’t sit there yammering nonsense at me!” Gardner snapped.

Cowed, the receptionist shrank back into his cubicle and began plugging in phone-jacks. Gardner heard him talking to one clerk after another; Karnes was not an easy man to approach without an appointment. But at last he heard the receptionist say, “Agent Gardner is out here. He says he has a report to make.”

Karnes’ reply was loud and anguished enough for Gardner to hear it clearly. The receptionist poked his neck out and said, “Excuse me, but is that Agent Roy Gardner?”

“Yes, it is. Just back from Lurion.”

The receptionist relayed the information to Karnes. A moment later the youngster looked up dazedly at Gardner and said, “The Chief will see you immediately, Agent Gardner.”

The double doors opened and Gardner strode through. He knew his way; he had only been in Karnes’ office a handful of times, but the way to the Chief’s office was something no Security man ever forgot.

He came finally to the end of the long series of interlocking hallways and made the sharp left turn that put him in the vestibule of Karnes’ office. The scanning field bathed him for an instant; then the door rolled quickly back.

Karnes was standing at his desk when Gardner walked in: the first time in Gardner’s memory, and perhaps in all of recorded history, that Karnes had not been seated when a subordinate entered the room. Karnes’ thin face was frozen in an expression of shock and perplexity. His fleshless lips moved for a moment impotently before the Security Chief was able to get out the words:

“What the deuce are you doing here?”

“Reporting back to request a recomputation, sir,” Gardner said evenly.

Karnes sank limply into his chair and fixed hard, narrow eyes on Gardner. “Without orders? Without asking permission? Gardner, have you gone insane? What about the project?”

“Perhaps the project is better canceled, sir. I couldn’t give the order to proceed. There’s some additional information about Lurion that has to be figured into the computation before we can act.”

“This is incredible, Gardner,” Karnes said darkly. “You stand there to tell me that you abandoned your post and returned to Earth merely to let me know that you don’t think the computer was right? I—”

Gardner recklessly interrupted him. “Sir, I’ve been in the Corps long enough to know the consequences of what I’ve done. But I had to. The computer is wrong!”

“The computer spent three years formulating its decision, Gardner! We scoured Lurion for data, fed every relevant fact we could find into the programming.”

Gardner’s jaws clenched. “The computer was capable of sending out a traitor to take part in the project, though. It’s far from infallible.”

“What are you saying?”

“Your man Damon Archer. He showed up at my hotel with a hidden recorder and took down a full discussion of the project. Then he bolted. Luckily, he was stopped. But he was planning to sell that tape to the Confederacy of Rim Stars. Doesn’t speak well for the computer, does it, to pick such a man?”

Karnes’ face clouded even more. “Archer was screened as thoroughly as anybody we’ve ever selected for an assignment.”

“Exactly, sir. And still the computer made a mistake about him!”

The point should have been a telling one, but Karnes shrugged it off. “You should have requested a replacement for him. Under no condition should you-have come all the way back to Earth.”

“Archer wasn’t the only lemon. Smee was rapidly going psycho. I brought him back with me too.”

“In other words,” said Karnes, holding himself jn check with deadly calm, “you’ve smashed the entire project. Only Leopold and Weegan are still on Lurion. Or have you subverted them too?”

“They’re still there, but I gave them orders to hold things up. You see, sir, while I was waiting for the group to assemble, I met some of the Lurioni. I became involved with a group that’s dedicated to upsetting the present way of life there, to get into government and change things. There are over five hundred of them, and they’re growing more influential every day. It would be wrong to destroy the planet while there’s still hope for it, sir. If this group gets proper support—if we nurture it along—it ought to be possible to salvage Lurion without the need to blow it up. That is—”

“That’s enough, Gardner,” Karnes said in a low voice.

“But, sir—”

“Listen to me, Gardner. It’s close to five years since we first began to realize we had to destroy Lurion. Ever since that moment every man in the top levels of government here has lived with a weight of responsibility on his back. We’ve checked and rechecked. There’s no room for error. The war drive on Lurion is unstoppable. It’s going to reach a head in sixty-seven years and the top will blow off—unless we stop things right now.

“You say Smee cracked up after only six months. How about us, Gardner? We’ve been living with this thing for years! Wrecking a world isn’t something you undertake lightly. We’ve checked, rechecked, doublechecked. We reached our decision.

“You were picked to implement this decision. If you remember, I didn’t think you were the right man. The computer overruled me. And instead of carrying out your task, you’ve acted in a direcdy contrary way.”

“Then you were right about me, and the computer was wrong!” Gardner shouted triumphantly. “If the computer can be wrong about me and wrong about Archer, what makes you so sure that it’s right about Lurion?”

“That’ll be enough,” Karnes barked. “Our decision has been taken. The project will continue as—”

“But all I ask is that you run a recomputation with the new data! It can’t take more than a year. Can’t you spare a year when the life of a whole world is at stake? The recomputation may change everything. It—”

“The project will continue as scheduled,” Karnes repeated inexorably. “Replacements will be sent to Lurion for Archer, Smee, and yourself. You are relieved of your position on this project, and your rank will be reduced to—”

“Reduced to nothing,” Gardner said. “I resign my commission on the spot. You’ll get the official notice by registered mail in the morning. I don’t want any part of this filthy organization!”

Saluting ironically, he spun on his heel and stalked toward the door. The panels rolled back obediently as he approached them.

“Gardner! Come back here! That’s an order, Gardner, do you hear me?”

“I don’t have to obey orders any more, sir.”

“Gardner!”

Without looking back, he stepped through the doorway, and it closed behind him. He began to walk rapidly down the long corridor. Voices sounded behind him, but he kept on going, through passageway after passageway, out to the front desk finally, past the goggle-eyed reception clerk, into the waiting lift-shaft.

Down. Out into the street.

Only when the fresh air reached him did he begin to think again. His mind had been numb all the way down, concentrating only on getting out of the building as quickly as possible.

Karnes had refused to listen. The project would continue as ordered. And he had resigned his commission. Like a string of firecrackers, the events had followed each other in explosive speed.

In no more than five minutes he had destroyed a career that had taken years to build.

He felt hollow and lost. But he knew he had done the right thing. That alone was a consolation.

In all conscience he could not have proceeded with the destruction project. Nor could he continue to associate himself with the organization that would be responsible for Lurion’s murder.

He had cut himself adrift, but at least his hands were clean.

Whatever happened now would be no guilt of his. He had tried.

A taxi glided up to the curb. Gardner stepped in and gave the driver the address of the hotel where he and Lori had registered earlier that day.

Lori was reading when he came in. She put away her book immediately and ran to him, eyes bright, smiling with anticipation. Her smile faded as she saw the expression on his face.

“What happened, Roy?”

He shook his head and dropped dispiritedly into a chair. “The damned obstinate fool,” he muttered bitterly. “Wouldn’t Karnes see you?”

“Oh, he saw me all right. He damned near had a fit when he heard I was waiting outside. I bet nobody ever got shown into Karnes’ office so fast. But then he wouldn’t listen to me.”

“What do you mean?”

Scowling Gardner said, “I told him everything. About Archer, about Smee, about the Lurioni underground. And all he did was chew me out for having left my position without permission. The project is going to continue as scheduled. He won’t even consider the idea of ordering a recomputation.”

“No, Roy! That’s horrible!”

“There’s more,” Gardner said. “He removed me from the project and started to demote me. So I resigned. I tossed in my commission.”

“Of course. What else could you have done? You couldn’t have remained attached to them after all this, could you?”

“No, but now I’m in a mess. I don’t have any other livelihood, and it isn’t easy for Security Agents to get jobs. People tend to distrust us. When I put down on the application, ‘Former Security Agent,’ they suddenly decide that the vacancy has been filled by a prior applicant due to apply at a later date. So Earth is closed to me. Besides, I’m walking around with a lot of top-secret classified information in my hold. Karnes may decide that I’m too dangerous to stay at liberty. The safest thing for them to do is to lock me up until after the Lurioni blowup, or maybe even indefinitely. To keep me quiet, you see.”

Lori pounded her fists against her thighs in anger. “But this is all outrageous! Aren’t they human? Can’t they at least order the recomputation instead of arresting you and blowing up a world? How can they dare to take such a responsibility?”

Gardner said quietly, “That’s the attitude I had until a little while ago. But now I understand Karnes and his bunch better. They’ve been living with this thing for five years, now. They’ve already gotten numb to the guilt. Their minds are frozen in the thought that Lurion has to be destroyed. It’s a dreadful thing to do, and they know it. But if they order the recomputation, and find out that they don’t have to destroy the planet, then all their suffering and guilt of the last five years was wasted; don’t you see? And they’ve reached the point where they’d rather blow Lurion up than admit that they were operating on insufficient data.”

He stared dumbly at the textured pattern of red and green whorls in the carpet. Lori said, “Roy, what are we going to do now?”

“Wei I’m going to become a victim of the Preventive Detention laws. You’re going to finish your thesis and get your degree in anthropology.”

“Don’t be stupid. Are you just going to sit here and let them arrest you?”

“What else is there for me? The cleanest thing would be to go back to Lurion and wait there for the blowup. But I’m not cut out for suicide. So I’ll rot in a jail instead. It’s the price I’ll pay for being an Earthman. We’ll all share the guilt of this Lurion thing.”

“No, Roy. Can’t we escape altogether, go off to some distant planet, some colony-world where we can buy land and just live and farm and forget this whole nightmarish thing?”

Gardner looked up. “Why should you get yourself mixed up in this?”

“Maybe I love you,” she said. “Or maybe I’m just an idiot. But I want to go with you wherever you go. And I don’t want you to sit by and let yourself be locked up.”

Gardner managed a faint smile. “Are you certain that this is what you want, Lori?”

“Yes.”

“What about your thesis, your doctorate?”

“What do those things matter? A lot of typed paper, a diploma, a title. They’re just substitutes for being alive, for being in love.”

“Get your doctorate. Marry some rich banker, the owner of a spaceKne, a jetpolo player. You’ve got looks, brains—”

“I don’t want any rich bankers. I want you, Roy.”

He was silent a long while, his eyes closed, his face bleak. At length he said, “I’ve got some money saved up. Security men get paid pretty well. It would be enough to take two people about nine hundred light-years on a one-way ticket and still leave a little over for living expenses.”

“I have money too, Roy. Not much, but it’s at least three thousand credits.”

“How fast can you lay your hands on it?”

“Within an hour. I don’t think the bank will make trouble about a withdrawal.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll go down to the Bureau of Emigration and pick out a planet and get my passport validated while you’re taking your money out. When I get back, you can go and do the same thing. We’ll leave on the first available ship.”

“Why can’t we go to the Bureau together?”

Gardner shook his head. “There’s time to start doing things together when we’re safely off Earth. There might be some hitches in getting my emigration visa, and we’d be smartest to avoid linking ourselves publicly until I’m cleared.”

“If you think that’s best,” Lori agreed.

They parted in front of the hotel, Lori heading for the bank, Gardner toward the towering headquarters of the Bureau of Emigration.

In the lobby of that great building, he found a private viewing booth and punched out this request for information. Data began to appear on the screen set in the wall. It was nearly half an hour before he had picked out the most attractive world.

It was called Herschel, and it was 383 light-years from Earth. Fourth planet of a warm G-type sun, gravity .96 Earthnorm, atmosphere Earthlike to four places. It had been settled three hundred years earlier by Terran colonists, had no native intelligent life, and had received full independence from Earth fifty years ago. The current population was only fifteen million, spread loosely over three fertile continents. New colonists were welcome, and received two hundred acres of land as a free homestead, with the option of buying more at low prices. Government was by representative legislature; taxes were at a minimum.

It sounded ideal. Gardner punched for a printed information form on Herschel to show to Lori. Then he began to fill out his application for an emigration permit. The Bureau would take care of the rest, notifying Herschel by ultrawave that a new colonist was on the way and securing a visa for him.

When he had completed the application, he joined a line. It inched along slowly. At any hour of the day or night, the Bureau hall was filled with Earthmen ready to try a change of luck on some distant, unspoiled world. Earth’s sphere of influence covered nearly five hundred planets of the galaxy, and nearly all of them were under-populated and welcomed newcomers.

Finally he reached the front of the line. He slipped his application across the ledge to the smiling clerk. The clerk scanned it briefly, maintaining the glossy professional smile.

Then, just before stamping out the validation, the clerk reached to his left and consulted a long sheet of green paper with many numbers typed on it. The smile wavered for a moment, but held firm.

Gardner stiffened. He knew what that sheet of paper was. A knowledge of the interior workings of Security could be helpful at times.

The clerk said urbanely, “There seems to be a minor difficulty, Mr. Gardner. Would you mind waiting for just a moment to the side here while we…”

Gardner did not choose to wait. Kames, he thought, had acted swiftly. The pickup order had gone out, and every branch Emigration Bureau already had the number of his passport, with instructions to detain him if he made any attempt to leave Earth.

He reached out swiftiy and snatched his application and passport back from the stunned clerk; then he turned and made his way quickly out of the crowded hall, before the clerk could recover and cry out for him to be seized.