business. Someone slipped and fired; there was a no-shoot order. It’s our
business, not yours. Our own people will take care of it.”
“They’re people, captain.”
“We’ve shot people too,” Mallory said, unruffled. “Get on about your business, I
say. This matter is under martial law, and I’ll settle it.”
He stood still. Everywhere in the center faces were turned toward them, and the
boards flashed with neglected lights. “Get to work,” he ordered them sharply,
and backs turned at once. “Get a station medic to that area.”
“You try my patience,” Mallory said.
“They are our citizens.”
“Your citizenship is broad, Mr. Konstantin.”
“I’m telling you—they’re terrified of violence. If you want chaos on this
station, captain, panic the Downers.”
She considered the point, nodded finally, without rancor. “If you can mend the
situation, Mr. Konstantin, see to it. And go where you choose.”
Just that. Go. He started away, glanced back with sudden dread of Mallory, who
could cast away a public argument. He had lost, had let anger get the better of
him… and go, she said, as if her pride were nothing.
He left, with the disturbed feeling that he had done something desperately
dangerous.
“Clear Damon Konstantin for passage,” Mallory’s voice thundered through the
corridors, and troops who had made to challenge him did not.
iii
He ran, leaving the lift on green four, his id and card in hand, flashed both at
a zealous trooper who tried to bar his way, and won through. Troops were
gathered ahead, blocking off all view. He ran up and, roughly seized, showed the
card and pushed his way past the troopers.
“Damon.” He heard Elene’s voice before he saw her, swung about and met her arms
in the press of armored troops, hugged her in relief.
“It’s one of the temporaries,” she said, “a male named Bigfellow. Dead.”
“Get out of here,” he wished her, not trusting the troops’ good sense. He looked
beyond her. There was a good deal of blood on the floor at the access doorway.
They had gotten the dead Downer into a bodybag and onto a stretcher for removal.
Elene, her arm linked with his, showed no inclination to leave.
“Doors got him,” she said. “But the shot may have killed him first.—Lt. Vanars,
off India” she murmured, for a young officer urged his way toward them. “In
charge of this unit.”
“What happened?” Damon asked the lieutenant. “What happened here?”
“Mr. Konstantin? A regrettable error. The Downer appeared unexpectedly.”
“This is Pell, lieutenant, full of civilians. The station will want a full
report on this.”
“For the safety of your station, Mr. Konstantin, I’d urge you to review your
security procedures. Your workers blew the lock. That cut the Downer in half,
when the emergency seal went; someone had that inner door open out of sequence.
How far do these tunnels go? Everywhere?”
“They’ve run,” Elene said quickly, “down, away from here. They’re probably
temporaries and they don’t know the tunnels well. And they’re not about to come
out again with the threat of guns out here. They’ll hide down there till they
die.”
“Order them out,” Vanars said.
“You don’t understand the Downers,” Damon said.
“Get them all out of the tunnels. Seal them up.”
“Pell’s maintenance is in those tunnels, lieutenant; and our Downer workers live
in that network, with their own atmospheric system. The tunnels can’t shut down.
I’m going in there,” he said to Elene. “They may answer.”
She bit her lip. “I’m staying right here,” she said, “till you come out.”
There were objections he would have made. It was not the place for them. He shot
a look at Vanars. “It may take me a while. Downers aren’t a negotiable matter on
Pell. They’re frightened, and they can get into places they can die in and cause
us real trouble. If I get into trouble, contact station authorites, don’t send
troops in; we can deal with them. If another gun goes off in their vicinity we
may not have a maintenance system, sir. Our life-support and theirs are linked,
a system in precise balance.”
Vanars said nothing. Did not react. It was impossible to know if reason meant