Part 2

"Where?" she said. "Where can anyone go--except up there?" With a motion of her head she indicated the moon, hanging like a grim reminder of the Prison Colony it contained. She shook her head. "I should've suspected it when that WBI man showed up. Somehow they've gotten wise to you. Do you realize you've jeopardized our entire position?"

"I didn't mean to--"

"It matters very little whether or not you meant to," Julie said sharply; "the fact is, you've done it." Her tone softened, "I'm sorry, Arthur, it's just that--"

"I understand how you feel," Arthur said gently, taking her in his arms. "Believe me, Julie, everything will turn out all right."

"I hope so," Julie said. "Well, we have to do something; we can't stay here."

"Take me to the hiding place, Julie," he begged; "we can work out something from there."

She looked at him briefly, considering the alternatives, her mind torn between affection for him and fear for the underground's safety. He knew she was recalling the many plans they had made for when all this was over, the legal matter of Helen, their home in a world where the air was free.

"If I stay here they will get me," he reasoned. "At least we have a chance the other way--if we hurry!"

In sudden determination, she said, "Come on, then."

She took him by the hand and led him deeper into the park. During the year he had been an unofficial member of the underground, supplying them with blueprints, he had never seen their headquarters, but he suspected it was close by, right under the noses of the authorities, and Julie did not disappoint him. She led him to a stone-block monument commemorating heroes of the Last War, and effortlessly pushed aside one of the blocks to reveal the darkness of a tunnel.

"Follow me," she directed and disappeared.

Arthur did, but first he dropped the silver disc a few feet away. When they were in the tunnel, Julie closed the entrance again and produced a flashlight. By its beams, they made their way downward.

They walked for perhaps a half-mile, when the tunnel broadened into what seemed a cavern. Their footsteps echoed from the opposite wall with a click-click-click, click-click-click.

"The old subway," Julie explained, her voice hollow, and Arthur nodded. With the coming of the helibus system many years ago, the subways had been discarded and their entrances sealed and checked periodically. Of course, they couldn't know about the monument entrance. At least, they hadn't, Arthur amended, thinking of the silver disc whose emanations could now be easily picked up by the robots.

"Here we are," Julie said, after awhile, coming to a halt before a door. She tapped carefully with the flashlight according to a prearranged signal. The door slid open slightly, emitting a finger of light from the room's glowtube. A man's face appeared to survey the corridor briefly, then the door went wide.

They entered a large room and the door slid into place behind them. Arthur strained his eyes, blinded temporarily by the light. Unfamiliar faces stared at him, about twenty of them. Men and women of all ages. He started suddenly. There, grinning pleasantly at him, was Austen, the young fellow from the office.

"Are we all here?" Julie wanted to know.

"Yes, we were waiting for you," a voice said.

Arthur whirled. "You?"

"Everything okay, Dunlop?" Samson asked, smiling.

"Simply great," he answered, a little weakly.

"What kept you?" Samson asked Julie.

"_He_ was delayed by a robot."

"What?"

Austen was at the door, frowning. "I thought I heard a noise." His voice was a whisper.

Samson pulled out a gun. He glared at Dunlop. "If they followed you--"

The door gave way with a sudden blast that threw them all to the floor. In the smoking entrance a robot appeared. With an effort, Samson forced himself erect and leveled his blaster.

Before he could fire, Arthur leaped at the man, wrenched the weapon from his fingers. Then the robot was in the room, then another, and another, their forehead-rays ready for instant use. There was no escape.

"Arthur!" Julie cried hoarsely.

"_There's_ your WBI man," Samson accused.

Arthur smiled crookedly and held on to the blaster in his hand. He did not look at Julie, for there was silent contempt and shame in her eyes.

* * * * *

The trial was short and simple, for justice had ceased to be a complicated thing and was governed by facts considered in the light of pre-established premises. To offset any possibility of human error, a great machine unemotionally sifted and weighed facts presented to it and arrived at a decision. Either those accused were guilty or they were not guilty, and obviously they were, so the trial itself and Arthur's testimony were matters of formality. The prisoners were, of course, duly convicted and sentenced to life on the Lunar Prison Colony, where life was rumored to be not long.

However, an unexpected development arose. The Court, it seems, had fed also into the machine various newly discovered facts concerning Arthur Dunlop, and the machine, with a figurative eye prefocused on State security, had arrived at a further pronouncement.

"You are to be commended," the Court said, as spokesman for the machine, "for your excellent work as a member of the World Bureau of Investigation. However, there is a little matter of a radio set concealed in your home--"

Arthur's face went white. Helen, he thought. That movement in the darkness--she hadn't been asleep! Of course. She was loyal to the cause, even to the extent of betraying her husband; perhaps she even suspected about Julie. He almost laughed aloud.

"But that was for emergency use," he pleaded, knowing it would do no good, "to contact the WBI when necessary."

"That may be," the Court conceded. "However, it was unauthorized, and it is even possible that its use might be harmful to the State. Until we can investigate further, you will be sentenced to a temporary term of one year on the Lunar Prison Colony, after which your case will be automatically up for review. I understand you applied for Lunar duty. This will give you an excellent opportunity to become acquainted with conditions firsthand."

The Court's gavel fell, an archaic but effective symbol of the passing of judgment. He did not look at the other prisoners who sat gloating nearby, even in the losing of their cause. Strange, Arthur Dunlop thought almost unemotionally, the way things had turned out....

* * * * *

The Lunar Prison ship came down out of the sky like a gray-metal coffin, settling with infinite slowness to the dock where the prisoners waited silently. The airlock opened and a gangplank stretched its finger towards them. A blond uniformed man strode from the ship, his Captain's bars glinting in the afternoon sunlight.

The Earthguard came forward, holding out a list of names. "Some additions to your labor camp, my dear Captain," he said jovially.

"And welcome they'll be," the Captain said, an indefinable glint in his eyes. "We have a lot of work to accomplish up there."

"So I've heard," the guard said.

The Captain smiled. "You haven't heard the half of it," he said, winking, and the guard guffawed.

"All right, all right," Samson growled irritably. "If we're going, let's go."

"Patience, friend," the blond Captain admonished. "Right this way now, that's right, through the airlock, take your seats as I call them off. Dunlop, one; Samson, two; Austen, three...."

Arthur filed silently into the spaceship, Samson and Julie and the others behind him. He took a seat and looked around.

He cried out at what he saw, and then Samson's hands were upon his neck, squeezing with the fury of a man possessed by one thought. He felt his breath being cut off, the room darken. They fell into the aisle. He could hear shouts of vengeance around him, and he thought he heard Julie's frantic voice telling them to stop. Julie--

The airlock clanged with awful finality, and there was a sickening rush as the spaceship darted aloft. Uncushioned bodies flew, and Arthur felt the pressure on his throat ease.

He blinked open his eyes, forced himself erect. The blond Captain was bending over him. "You okay?"

"Still alive, George," he said, massaging his throat, "but I think we'd better tell them before I need a new head."

"George?" Julie said, puzzled. "You two know each other?"

"We were in the war together," the Captain said.

Arthur rose unsteadily. "I'd like you people to meet my best friend, George Keating."

"But--"

"We decided some time ago that Earth is no place for an underground movement," Arthur said. "There's too much secrecy, too much danger involved in the slightest movement away from the established pattern. People are too involved with the Super State idea and the dangers to their own particular skins." Like my wife, Helen, he thought to himself.

"There's one place, though," George Keating supplied, "where the inhabitants are in perfect accord with overthrowing the government as it now exists."

"Where?" Samson asked skeptically.

"Where else," Arthur told him, smiling, "but the Moon, on the prison colony where people were sent because they didn't like the way things were turning out politically and otherwise on Earth. It was a comparatively simple matter to replace the guards with our own group."

"Then," Julie exclaimed, "then you were in on this all the time. It was part of a plan."

Arthur nodded. "All except Helen's turning me in, which was unexpected but just as well I suppose. We're almost ready for the ultimatum, and we wanted this group to aid us, which is why I betrayed you. We could have whisked you away secretly, but there was greater danger in that and the disappearance of an individual, much less a group, couldn't go unnoticed in that society. Besides, this way they'll be more complacent."

"As I told that guard," Keating added, "we've still got a lot of work to do, chiefly on the other side of the Moon where Earth can't see--put the finishing touches on spaceships we've been building, assemble the weapons and the guided missiles. A lot of work. We may not have to use them--I hope we don't--but they'll be ready, just in case."

Samson wet his lips. "It's a big project," he said testily.

"Of course," Arthur admitted, smiling. He indicated a porthole. "But look at Earth down there."

They crowded to see. It was a large green ball, glowing iridescently, becoming smaller as they approached the prison colony that was not a prison colony. Julie shrank into Arthur's arms.

"It's beautiful," she said.

Austen said, "Why, it looks fragile, like you could reach out from here and--and smash it." There was awe and wonder in his voice.

"You can," Keating said, "if necessary." His eyes narrowed. "It's a perfect target, a sitting duck from the sky. Who owns the Moon controls Earth."

"I'd like to apologize," Samson said, offering his outstretched hand to Arthur.

"Me, too," Julie said.

"I'll accept both apologies," Arthur Dunlop said, "but from you, Julie, I won't settle for a handshake."

Julie took the hint.

"We have a lot of time yet, so we may as well all relax," Keating announced. "Arthur and I can brief you on the situation as it stands." He grinned. "If he ever comes up for air!"

* * * * *

They laughed the laughter of free men and gazed through the porthole at their destination. The bright face of the Moon floated towards them. Behind them, the Earth hung at peace--unsuspecting that anything had changed.