Now he had returned, a man, but under disgraceful conditions and under sentence of death. The meeting was no less unhappy for Hugh. He had loved the old man, in his way, wanted to please him and needed his approval. But he could see, as he told his story, that Nelson was not capable of treating the the story as anything but an aberration of Hugh’s mind, and he suspected that Nelson would rather see him meet a quick death in the Converter, his atoms smashed to hydrogen and giving up clean useful power, than have him live to make a mock of the ancient teachings.
In that.he did the old man an injustice; he underrated Nelson’s mercy, but not his devotion to ‘science.’ But let it be said for Hugh that, had there been no more at issue than his own personal welfare, he might have preferred death to breaking the heart of his benefactor, being a romantic and more than a bit foolish. Presently the old man got up to leave, the visit having grown unendurable to each of them. “Is there anything I can do for you, son? Do they feed you well enough?”
“Quite well, thanks,” Hugh lied.
“Is there anything else?”
“No … yes, you might send me some tobacco. I haven’t had a chew in a long time.”
“I’ll take care of it. Is there anyone you would like to see?”
“Why, I was under the impression that I was not permitted visitors … ordinary visitors.”
“You are right, but I think perhaps I may be able to get the rule relaxed. But you will have to give me your promise not to speak of your heresy,” he added anxiously. Hugh thought quickly. This was a new aspect, a new possibility. His uncle? No, while they had always got along well, their minds did not meet; they would greet each other as strangers. He had never made friends easily; Ertz had been his obvious next friend and now look at the damned thing! Then he recalled his village chum, Alan Mahoney, with whom he had played as a boy. True, he had seen practically nothing of him since the time he was apprenticed to Nelson. Still… “Does Alan Mahoney still live in our village?”
“Why, yes.”
“I’d like to see him, if he’ll come.”
Alan arrived, nervous, ill at ease, but plainly glad to see Hugh and very much upset to find him under sentence to make the Trip. Hugh pounded him on the back. “Good boy,” he said. “I knew you would come.”
“Of course, I would,” protested Alan, “once I knew. But nobody in the village knew it. I don’t think even the Witnesses knew it.”
“Well, you’re here, that’s what matters. Tell me about yourself. Have you married?”
“Huh, uh, no. Let’s not waste time talking about me. Nothing ever happens to me anyhow. How in Jordan’s name did you get in this jam, Hugh?”
“I can’t talk about that, Alan. I promised Lieutenant Nelson that I wouldn’t.”
“Well, what’s a promise, that kind of a promise? You’re in a jam, fellow.”
“Don’t I know it!”
“Somebody have it in for you?”
“Well, our old pal Mort Tyler didn’t help any; I think I can say that much.”
Alan whistled and nodded his head slowly. “That explains a lot.”
“How come? You know something?”
“Maybe, — maybe not. After you went away he married Edris Baxter.”
“So? Hmm-m-m … yes, that clears up a lot.” He remained silent for a time.
Presently Alan spoke up: “Look, Hugh. You’re not going to sit here and take it, are you? Particularly with Tyler mixed in it. We gotta get you outa here.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. Pull a raid, maybe. I guess I could get a few knives to rally round and help us; all good boys, spoiling for a fight.”
“Then, when it’s over, we’d all be for the Converter. You, me, and your pals. No, it won’t wash.”
“But we’ve got to do something. We can’t just sit here and wait for them to burn you.”
“I know that.” Hugh studied Alan’s face. Was it a fair thing to ask? He went on, reassured by what he had seen. “Listen. You would do anything you could to get me out of this, wouldn’t you?”