VI
The commander of the PatrolshipSiriuswas Lt.-Col. Travers, third ranking officer of the Belt Fleet. He shook Pop's hand heartily.
"Glad to meet you, Dr. Moseley. I've heard so much about you, I feel as if I already know you. My nephew was a student in several of your classes at Midland U. He said you were a very capable instructor ... and if I may judge from what we noted from above, I might add that you are an extremely capable colonist as well as professor."
Pop wriggled. "Why—why, thank you, Colonel."
"This fine farmland," smiled the space officer, "and that artesian well I see across the river ... these silos, and your magnificent dwelling...."
Pop hrrumphed, even more embarrassed.
"Colonel," he faltered, "I think I'd better explain immediately that all is not mine. There are two groups of claimants to this planetoid. Ourselves and a family named Wilkes. Martians. Our property is here; theirs is across the river. I—uh—here comes Wilkes now."
Travers' brow furrowed.
"Indeed? Then he was right, after all!"
"He? Who?"
The question was answered by the appearance of a man in drill space-gear who stepped from theSirius. A lean and capable-appearing man, hard-bitten of feature, shrewd of eye and tight of lip. Colonel Travers said, "Dr. Moseley, permit me to introduce Mr. Wade, survey scout of the United Ores Corporation."
Wade acknowledged the introduction with a crisp nod. Then, "What's this about there being two claimants to Eros?" He turned to the ship's commander. "This makes a difference, doesn't it, Colonel? My information was correct. Therefore it becomes your duty to make a final, exhaustive study of the settlers' accomplishments rightnow. And in the event their projects have not been completed in accordance with the provisions of the Squatter's Rights Code, Section 103A, Paragraphs vii to xix, inclusive—"
Eleanor whispered nervously, "What does he mean, Dick? What is he talking about?" and Dick nodded tightly. "I think I know." He stepped forward. "I take it, Mr. Wade, that the U.O.C. has filed a claim on the possession of Eros in the event that our settlement projects should not satisfy the inspector's requirements?"
"Quite right, young man. And I might add—" Wade was openly hostile. "I might add that I have obtained permission to accompany Colonel Travers on his inspection tour. In order to verify his findings. If I am not satisfied—"
"That will do, Mr. Wade!" Colonel Travers was under orders to treat his passenger as a guest; there was no obligation that he like the ore scout. The glint in his eye, the set of his jaw, indicated the direction in which his sympathy lay. "I am quite capable of handling this. Ah—Good day, sir! Mr. Wilkes, I presume?"
"Howdy, Skipper. Yeah, I'm Sam Wilkes." The rival settler glanced around swiftly, sensed the overtones of enmity, glared at Pop suspiciously. "What's wrong here? Has Moseley been squawkin' about—?"
"Dr. Moseley informed us that you and he were both claimants to Eros. Therefore I shall immediately visit your two establishments in order to determine which, if either of you, has the better justified his claim.
"Lieutenant Thrainell, you will serve as my aide. We will first inspect Dr. Moseley's habitation."
Thus it began. Pop took the two Patrolmen and the civilian critic to Delta Port, pointed out with pride the many things accomplished within the past months. He met, in Col. Travers, an admiring audience. The commander was outspokenly delighted with what he saw.
"Gad, man! You did all this without power? This is the pioneering feat of the decade! Look, Lieutenant! Running water ... chinaware ... that furniture! Marvelous! You deserve a wealth of credit, Doctor."
"But," pointed out Wade caustically, "you mentioned the biggest fault yourself."
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Wade?"
"Without power!" snapped Wade. "Moseley, where are your lights? Where's your power plant? How about heat? And this cooking equipment—it's aboriginal!"
Pop said stiffly, "We have no hypatomic, sir. But you will notice that we have devised satisfactory substitutes for power-driven gear. Hand-pumps draw our water, light is supplied by these oil-float lamps, our house is centrally heated by these open fire-places. We are—" He faltered. "We shall, of course, order a complete hypatomic unit from Earth, install it as soon as possible."
"I'm afraid that's not quick enough," sneered Wade. "Colonel Travers will undoubtedly remember the requirements of the law in that respect. 'Claimant must display, at time of inspection, a power-plant of atomic, motor, or hydraulic drive capable of generating a minimum of 3,000 Legerling unitsper diem, and so arranged as to provide dwellings and other structures with heat, light and power.' You have no such equipment, have you, Dr. Moseley?"
"No, but—"
"You have not, then?"
"No."
"Very well, then." Wade smiled thinly, closed the black book in which he had been jotting notes with a plushy sound of finality. "May I suggest, Colonel, that we see theotherclaimant's plantation?"
After they had left, Colonel Travers shaking his head regretfully at Pop as if to say he was sorry but helpless before the arguments of this interloper, Pop sat down and propped his chin on his fists. Yesterday he had looked like a man of thirty; all of sudden he looked old and weary and discouraged. He said, "Well, there it is, Martha. I've dreamed my dream, and now it's over, and I've failed."
"No you haven't Rob. The Colonel is on our side. He's a good man. He'll—"
"But the law is on Wade's side. If our claim is outlawed, Eros will become a dirty, smoky mining camp. This soft beauty, these green rolling hills, will echo with the clatter of blasters. Unless—"
And suddenly he was again a man of action. He came to his feet suddenly.
"Martha, Eleanor, Dick—everybody! Get those preserves out of the storage closet. Grampaw, get the hauler from the shed. Bobby, you run and tell Sam Wilkes to keep those inspectors out of his house for a half hour or so."
"Why, Pop?" demanded Dick. "What are you going to do?"
"Do? I'm going to see that Sam Wilkes gets this planet, that's what! Oh, I know—there won't be any question of his sharing it with me. He's too hard and stiff-necked a man for that. But he's our kind of man, with all his faults. A pioneer with the daring to come to a new world and try to build it into a home of his own.
"We've known for weeks that all he needed to justify his claim was a food supply. Well, by thunder, we've got a food supply! And we'll give it to him, lock, stock and barrel, to keep Eros out of the Corporation's hands! Now, step, everybody! Moira! Moira—where is that girl?"
"She stayed down by the river, Pop."
"Well, find her. Bobby, go tell Sam Wilkes what I just said!"
Bobby scooted.
He was soaking wet when he got to the Wilkes' house. That was because he took the short-cut, which meant plunging right into the river and swimming across, clothes and all. The inspectors and their snoopy companion would have to take the long route, around the ford.
Mr. Wilkes wasn't in the house when he got there. But Mrs. Wilkes was, and Ginger, and both gasped as they saw him. Mrs. Wilkes bustled forward.
"Sweet stars above, child, what are you doing here? Get those clothes off; you'll catch your death of cold. Ginger—go get one of Junior's suits—"
Bobby said, "There's no time for that, Mrs. Wilkes. Where's Fat Sa—I mean, where's your husband?"
Ginger said, "Don't tell him, Ma. He's just here to crow because he knows we can't pass the inspection requirements—"
"You—you shut up!" bellowed Bobby. "You doggone female! You don't know anything about it. Mrs. Wilkes, get your husband. Mom and Sis and the rest will be here any minute now. They're—"
And he explained. His explanation sent them into a flurry of excitement; there was even deeper excitement when Sam Wilkes, hastily summoned, heard the same story repeated. For once the leathery corners of his mouth relaxed into something like a grin. He swore, and slammed a big hand on his knee.
"Your old man is going to do that for us, sonny? Well, hornswoggle my jets! And to think I—Junior, go find Red. Hop it!"
"Red's not around, Pa. He went toward the river."
"Confound him! Just when we need him most. Well—I'll go meet the confounded rascals, stall them as long as I can. And look here, you—what's your name?"
"Bobby."
"I won't forget this, Bobby! Not by a jugfull. If I hadn't been such a stubborn, pigheaded old hound, I'd have dickered with your Pa long afore this. There's plenty of room on Eros for two families. Or two dozen!"
Then followed a half hour of labor so swift that it made all the accomplishments of the past months seem snail-like by comparison. Mom and Eleanor arrived, bearing armloads of canned goods and preserves; Grampaw and Dick brought the hauler across the river on a raft, and piled high on the hauler were fresh vegetables that gorged the never-used Wilkes containers to repletion. It was fast work, but efficient. And when, about three-quarters of an Earth hour later, Wilkes came from the lower acreage accompanied by the two officers and the Corporation investigator, the job was finished, and a tired but glowing two-family group awaited him.
Colonel Travers' inspection of the food-supply was perfunctory. It needed not be otherwise. One glance sufficed to show that there was in the Wilkes household enough food to nourish a dozen families for as many months.
And there was a smile of grim satisfaction on his lips as, turning to his aide, he said, "Very well, Lieutenant. You may make a notation that the Wilkes household has been inspected and found satisfactory in all respects." He looked at Wade purposefully and repeated in a firm tone. "Inallrespects!"
Ah, he was no dummy, that Colonel. Bobby had seen the twinkle in his eye as he glanced into the preserve closet. Because, shucks! there wasn't any mistaking Mom's way of doing up preserves. With little red bands around each jar, and her firm, crabbed handwriting telling what was inside.
"In all respects!" he said again. And reached for Sam Wilkes' pudgy paw. "Congratulations, Sir! You've earned possession of the planetoid Eros. Your power-plant is among the finest it has ever been my pleasure to view; you have undeniably cleared and planted the required number of acres, your food supply is well above the minimum requirements—"
"But see here!" Wade's face was an ugly red. "I'm not satisfied, Colonel. There's something fishy about this. The farmlands we inspected were barely out of the seed stage. The corn was only knee high, the vegetables mere sprouts. These people couldn't have raised all this produce—"
Sam Wilkes spluttered helplessly, "Why I—I—"
And Pop came to his rescue. Smoothly. Suavely.
"But he did, Mr. Wade. On the farmlands across the river. Those are the early crops; the ones you've just seen are the late harvest."
"But—but you claimed those wereyourcrops!"
"Did I?" Pop stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Well, maybe I was bragging a little. You see, I've been working for Mr. Wilkes. A sort of share-cropper, you might say."
"Now I get it!" howled the angry scout. "I thought so. It's skullduggery, that's what it is! Don't you see, Colonel? These men are conspiring to defraud us. To cheat the Corporation. Moseley had deliberately given his crops and food-supply to Wilkes—"
There was again a twinkle in the Colonel's eye. He said, soberly, "And suppose you're right, Wade? What then? There's no law against a man giving away his possessions to another man, is there?
"As an inspector for the Solar Space Patrol, my only interest is in seeing that a settler's domain fulfills the requirements of the Squatter's Rights Code. Mr. Wilkes has fulfilled those requirements. I am not interested in the how or why. Therefore, under the power invested in me by the Triune Planetary Government, I hereby decide and award—"
And then a crafty brilliance illumined Wade's eyes.
"Stop!" he cried.
Colonel Travers hesitated. "Pardon, Mr. Wade?"
"Since you are such a stickler for duty, Colonel, I wish to call to your attention a further stipulation of the Squatter's Rights Code. One you have evidently forgotten. The Code says, Section 115B, Paragraph iii, 'Such requirements having been fulfilled, it shall be lawful to award the settled property to any family group comprised of at least six adults who pledge intention to make the property their permanent home—'"
Sam Wilkes said, "Well, what's the matter. Don't we intend to make Eros our permanent home?"
"I have no doubt of it, Mr. Wilkes. But I regret to inform you that you will not be able to do so, since you do not fulfill this last-mentioned paragraph."
"There's six of us!" defended Wilkes stoutly.
"But the law," insisted Wade, "requires sixadults! May I ask, Mr. Wilkes, how many of your family are more than twenty-one years of age!"
Dick whistled softly. Pop's jaw dropped. Wilkes' face turned crimson. And Bobby computed hastily. This was the final, devastating blow. The Wilkes household contained only four adults; Old Man Wilkes, Sam and his wife, and Red. Junior and Ginger were just kids.
With sudden regret, Bobby realized that they should have arranged their conspiracy in reverse. There were six adults in the Moseley clan, Moira having just celebrated her twenty-first birthday. But it was too late for that now. As friendly as Colonel Travers was, he could not openly countenance a flagrant, deliberate transference of all property to the Moseleys.
So their last, desperate ruse had failed. And now none of them would win ownership of Eros. All their lovely hopes and dreams had been in vain; their new-found friendship with the Wilkes a dying gesture....
Wade could not restrain himself from elaborating on the situation.
"So, my friends," he chuckled, "your deceit wins its proper reward. Under the circumstances, I shall not do what I had earlier planned on doing. I was going to give each of you, with the Corporation's compliments, a fitting reward for having so diligently opened up this new colony. Now I see no reason for so doing.
"In the future, it might be well to remember the law provides many loopholes to the ingenious man. That is a hard lesson, but a fair one. Were you but six adults—"
And then there was a sudden stir at the doorway. A deep, rumbling, familiar voice. That of Red Wilkes.
"You crow mighty loud for a bantam rooster, Mister!" he said. "But you're crowing at a false dawn. Because it so happens that we are six adults. As a matter of fact, we're more than six adults. There aretenof us!"
Wade spun, shocked. The others looked, too, and in all eyes there was surprise. All, that is, but Ginger. She was hugging her knees, rocking back and forth comfortably, looking very much pleased with herself and with the world in general. She said, "I knew it. I knew it all the time."
"Knew what?" said Bobby, but his question was lost in Wade's irate demand.
"Ten of you? What are you talking about? Who is this young whipper-snapper?"
"That," said Sam Wilkes conversationally, "is my son. And I'd be careful if I was you, Mister. The last guy who called him names is still pickin' up teeth. Son, I reckon you know what the hell you're talkin' about. But the rest of us don't. So if you'd please explain—?"
Red Wilkes grinned. He said, "Moira, honey." And Moira entered from the porch. There was a smile on her face and somehow there was a smile in her eyes, too, and Bobby got the strange feeling that if you could see inside her, there'd be a smile in her heart. She looked at Mom, and Mom gave a little gasp, like she could tell just by looking at Moira what Moira meant. Red Wilkes continued to grin. He said, "Colonel, commanders of space vessels have the privilege of marrying folks, haven't they?"
"Why—why, yes," said Travers.
"Then," said Red mildly, "how'd you like to get out the little black book and start tying knots? Because, you see, Moira has told me she's willing to take a chance."
Pop said, "Moira, darling, you're not just doing this because ... because...."
"No, Pop. I'm doing it because I want to. Because I love Red and he loves me. It's been that way since the day we met. We—we've been meeting secretly for the past six weeks. We meant to break the news sooner or later. And now seems to be about the best time."
"Particularly," pointed out the groom-to-be, "since our marriage turns two families intoonefamily. And I think that will spike your guns, Mr. Wade?"
Wade was no longer crimson. He was purple. "You can't do this, Colonel!" he screamed. "It's illegal. Anyway, they won't be truly related. The two families will just be in-laws—"
But there was an open, admiring grin on the lips of Lieutenant-Colonel Travers, S.S.P. He said, "Maybe Ican'tdo it, Mr. Wade—but by the Pleiades, I'm going to! And as for the law—according to all decisions I've ever read, in-laws are valid relatives. You're the one who was yelping about the law providing many loopholes for ingenious men. Well, here's a big, juicy loophole. How do you like it?"
Wade, howled, "I protest! It's unfair! I refuse to allow—"
Red Wilkes looked at his father hopefully. "Shall I, Pop?" he asked.
And Sam Wilkes shook his head. "No, son. It ain't fittin'. Not on your wedding day."
Which gave Dick an idea. He rose, grimly.
"It's notmywedding day!" he said. "Wade—"
But somehow Mr. Wade had vanished. Toward the ship.
Afterward, Colonel Travers lingered to shake hands all around.
"I commend you both," he said, "for the fine spirit you have shown; the fine work you've done in making Eros a member of the Solar family. You prove what I have always claimed—that the pioneer spirit in Man is not dead, nor will it ever die so long as there remain new frontiers to conquer.
"Well, I must go now. But I'll stop back by here on my next swing around the Belt. Perhaps a year from now, perhaps a little less. I'll bring the things you ask for. A new motor, some cloth, silverware—I have your list."
"Don't forget the books," said Pop.
"I won't." The Captain made a note.
"And the seeds." That was Old Man Wilkes.
"No. I'll bring them."
"And bring," said Moira, "a teething ring."
Eleanor said, "Oh, nonsense, Moira! In another year The Pooch will be too old for teething rings."
"Bring," said Moira doggedly, "a teething ring." And blushed.
Bobby blushed, too. It was, he thought, indecent of Moira to be so brazen. And her only married! Golly, did she have to look so far ahead? And, anyway, with Ginger standing right there....
He said, "Hey, Stinky, how about a game of quoits?"
"Suits," said Junior.
And Ginger said, "Me, too." She put her hand in Bobby's. She said, with alarming frankness, "I like you! Maybe I'll let you be my beau."
Bobby shook loose. He said, "Aw, you darn girls—"
But she had her way. She played quoits with him and Junior. And she won. Which may have been symbolic, though it didn't occur to Bobby that way. Maybe she would always have her way. And maybe she would always win—whatever she wanted.
Yet for a while there would be peace on Eros....