Mr. Marlowe frowned. "You've brought up an entirely new possibility, Jim." He thought a moment. "We don't know that Hie natives have these conveyances between here and Copais-"

"I'll bet they have!"

"-and we don't know that they would let us ride in mem even if they have."

"But, Dad, Frank and I-"

"A point of order, Mr. Chairman!" It was Gibbs again. "Under what rules do you permit children to speak in the councils of adult citizens?"

Mr. Marlowe looked embarrassed and annoyed. Doctor MacRae spoke up. "Another point of order, Mr. Chairman. Since when does this cream puff-" He motioned at Gibbs. "Order, Doctor."

"Correction. I mean this fine upstanding male citizen, Mr. Gibbs, get the notion that Frank and Jim and the other guntoting men their age ain't citizens? I might mention in passing that I was a man grown when this Gibbs party was still wetting his diapers-"

"Order!" ,

"Sorry. I mean even before he had reached that stage. Now as I see it, this is a frontier society and any man old enough to fight is a man and must be treated as such-and any girl old enough to cook and tend babies is an adult, too. Whether you folks know it yet or not, you are headed into a period when you'll have to fight for your rights. The youngsters will do most of the fighting; it behooves you to treat them accordingly. Twenty-five may be the right age for citizenship in a moribund, age-ridden society like that back on Earth, but we aren't bound to follow customs that aren't appropriate to our needs here."

Mr. Marlowe banged his gun. "I declare this subject out of order. Jim, see me after the meeting. Has anyone any specific action to propose that can be carried out at this time? Do we negotiate, or do we resort to force of numbers?"

Mr. Konski addressed the chair and said, "I favor taking what we have to have, if necessary, but it may not be necessary. Wouldn't it be well for you, Mr. Marlowe, to phone Mr. Beecher again? You could point out to him that we have force enough to do as we see fit; perhaps he will see reason. In fact, I so move."

The motion was put and carried; Mr. Marlowe suggested that someone else speak for them, but was turned down. He left the rostrum and went out into the hall to the communications booth. It was necessary to break the lock Howe had placed on it.

Beecher seemed excessively pleased with himself. "Ah, yes-my good friend, Marlowe. You've called to give yourself up I assume?"

Marlowe glanced around at the half dozen colonists crowded into the open door of the booth, then explained civilly to Beecher the purpose of his call.

"Boats to Copais?" Beecher laughed. "Scooters will be ready at nightfall to take the colonists-back to South Colony. You may tell them that all who are ready to go at that time will escape the consequences of their hasty actions. Not you, of course."

"The purpose of this call was to point out to you that we are considerably larger in numbers than the largest force you can possibly drum up here in Syrtis Minor. We intend to cany out the contract. If you crowd us into using force to get our rights, force we will use."

Beecher sneered through the TV screen. "Your threats do not move me, Marlowe. Surrender. Come out one at a time and unarmed, hands up."

"Is that your last word?"

"One more thing. You are holding Mr. Howe a prisoner. Let him go at once, or I shall see to it that you are prosecuted for kidnapping."

"Howe? He's not a prisoner; he's free to leave at any time."

Beecher elaborated. Marlowe answered, "That's a private matter between Kelly and Howe. You can call Howe in his office and tell him so."

"You must give him safe conduct out of the building," Beecher insisted.

Marlowe shook his head. "I'm not going to interfere in a private quarrel. Howe is safe where he is; why should I bother? Beecher, I am offering you one more chance to provide boats peacefully."

Beecher stared at him and switched off.

Kelly said, "Maybe you should have thrown me to the wolves, Chief."

Marlowe scratched his chin. "I don't think so. I can't conscientiously hold a hostage-but I have a feeling that this building is safer with Howe in it. I don't know just what Beecher has-so far as I know there isn't a bomb nor any other heavy weapon of any sort in Syrtis-but I would like to know what makes him so confident."

"He's bluffing."

"I wonder." Marlowe went back in and reported the conversation to all the colonists.

Mrs. Pottle stood up. "Well, we are accepting Mr. Beecher's gracious offer at once! As for holding poor Mr. Howe a prisoner-why, the very idea! I hope that you are properly punished, and that ungentlemanly Mr. Kelly as well. Come, dear!" Again she made a grand exit, with Mr. Pottle trotting after her.

Marlowe said, "Any more who want to surrender?"

Gibbs stood up, looked around uncertainly, and followed them. No one spoke until he had left, then Toland stood up and said, "I move that we organize ourselves for action."

"Second!"-"Second the motion!"

No one wanted to debate it; it was carried. Toland then proposed that Marlowe be elected captain of the forces, with power to appoint officers. It, too, was carried.

At this point Gibbs came stumbling back into the room, his face white, his hands trembling. "They're dead! They're dead!" he cried.

Marlowe found it impossible to restore order. Instead he crowded into the circle around Gibbs and demanded, "Who's dead? What happened?"

"The Pottles. Both of them. I was almost killed myself." He quieted down enough to tell his story; the three had assumed their masks and gone out through the lock. Mrs. Pottle, without bothering to look around her, had stomped out into the street, her husband a close shadow. As soon as they had stepped clear of the archway they had both been blasted. Their bodies lay out in the street in front of the school. "It's your fault," Gibbs finished shrilly, looking at Marlowe. "You got us into this."

"Just a moment," said Marlowe, "did they do the things Beecher demanded? Hands up, one at a time, and so forth? Was Pottle wearing his gun?"

Gibbs shook his head and turned away. "That's not the point," MacRae said bitterly. "While we've been debating, Beecher has boxed us in. We can't get out."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Beseiged

IT WAS MADDENINGLY true, as a cautious investigation soon proved. Both the front and back exits were covered by gunmen-Beecher's police, supposedly-who were able to blast anyone emerging from the building without themselves being under fire. The air-lock nature of the doors made a rush suicidal.

The school was at a distance from the settlement's dwellings; it was not connected by tunnel. Nor had it any windows. Men and women, boys and girls, the colony listed hundreds of licensed gun wearers-and yet a handful of gun fighters outside, as few as two, could keep them holed up.

Under the influence of Doc MacRae's bellowing voice the assembly got back to work. "Before I go ahead with organizing," Marlowe announced, "does anyone else want to surrender? I'm fairly sure that the Pottles were shot because they blundered out without notice. If you shout and wave something white, I think your surrender will be accepted."

He waited. Presently a man got up with his wife, and then another. A few more trickled out. They left in dead silence. When they were gone Captain Marlowe went on with the details of organizing. Mrs. Palmer he confirmed as head of commissary. Doc he designated as executive officer, Kelly he appointed permanent officer of the watch, responsible for the interior guard. Sutton and Toland were given the job of devising some sort of a portable screen to block the enfilading fire that had dropped Mr. and Mrs. Pottle. Jim followed all this with excited interest until, after the appointment of platoon leaders, it became evident that his father did not intend to use boys as combatants. The students from the school were organized into two platoons, designated as reserve, and dismissed.