Chapter X: "Betrayed!" echoed Norman

The Duchess nodded. Her gray eyes were enormous. "I've been expecting to keel over on the street all the way home!"

"Who? How?"

"One of your precious Earth men. Hops, he's called." She paused, said, "I feel kind of dizzy! My God! You don't suppose the Dohlmites are putting the finger on me, do you?"

"No. No, of course not. It's just shock. Sit down. Jennifer," he called, "make the Duchess some tea, coffee, anything hot."

"Tea, hell," said the Duchess sinking on the couch. "Bring me a shot of whiskey."

Jennifer had hastily slipped on her tunic. She brought a glass of whiskey from the kitchen. The Duchess drank it neat.

"Now, what happened?" pressed Norman.

"Marcia told me," began the Duchess. "She's the girl in the troop I told you about. The one who played the triangle with me and who's been slipping us the green suits."

"Yes, yes," he interrupted impatiently.

She said, "Vermeer and Del Solar were inspecting the factory."

"Vermeer," ejaculated Norman. "I know Vermeer. But who's Del Solar?"

"Del Solar's chief of the Venusian Export Lines. Vermeer's his assistant. They are the only two humans allowed beyond the force wall. They've charge of the factory, you know, and it isn't unusual for them to make an inspection, but Marcia was jittery. She was afraid they'd discover she'd been stealing the green suits.

"She hung around them trying to overhear what they were saying. She was listening when one of the guards approached Del Solar and told him there was a man outside to see him. 'Send him in,' says Del Solar. So the guard brought this Hops inside. When Marcia saw it was a fighting man and not an agent or a slave she sneaked behind a packing case where she could hear every word they said.

"'What do you want?' Del Solar asked. Hops told him he knew about a conspiracy. He wanted to give Del Solar the names of the leaders in exchange for a post in the Venusian Export Lines. He told a lot more too: about us stealing the insulation suits, how the Sinn Feiners have spread all over Behrl. Enough to convince Del Solar that it was a serious matter."

"But he hasn't our names yet?" Norman clutched at a straw.

The Duchess shook her head. "Not yet. Del Solar wanted them. But Hops is no fool. He wouldn't betray the names of the conspirators until he was guaranteed a post with the Export Company. No one is accepted in the company without the plant men's approval. That means Del Solar will have to see the Dohlmites first."

"Jennifer," commanded Norman, "get Koal. Tell him to bring Acpsahme."

The girl left, her blue eyes frightened.

"Go on," urged Norman. He was trying to place Hops, then he remembered. Hops had been one of the renegade Earth men present at the first meeting.

"Well, Del Solar asked him his name and where he lived. That's how Marcia knew who he was. He lives in G-seven, but she couldn't remember his apartment number. Then Del Solar said he'd meet Hops in the Earth man's apartment as soon as he'd seen the Dohlmites."

Jennifer burst into the room leading Koal and Acpsahme.

"What's this about a traitor?" cried the usually calm Martian.

"Tell them," commanded Norman.

The Duchess repeated her story.

"If we can reach Hops in time," Koal exploded, "we're not lost yet!"

"Whether we're in time or not," interposed Acpsahme in a flat voice, "we've business with Hops. Have you got your gun, Norman?"

The young man caught his breath. The meaning behind Acpsahme's words was only too clear.

"Yes," he faltered. He felt hollow inside. He wasn't frightened, just sick.

"Come on," said Acpsahme in that unemotional voice.

"Norman," said Jennifer in a frightened tone.

"Don't interfere," he heard the Duchess say. "This is man's work." Then he was outside in the corridor.

While waiting for the elevator, they met Pepperell, the ex-T.I.S. agent. Koal explained briefly what had occurred.

"Spread the word, Pepperell. If we're in time, this should discourage any ambition to sell us out among the others."

* * * * *

They went down in the lift, entered Koal's car, drove out into the blinding sunlight. We're going to kill a man, Norman thought. Little beads of sweat stood out on his temples. He saw the informer stretched lifeless on the floor, his blank eyes staring at him accusingly.

"Don't think about it," advised Koal, with that disconcerting ability to divine what was passing through Norman's mind.

They turned into the base of G7. Koal brought the car to a stop. A guard advanced to examine their papers. Norman recognized him as a Sinn Feiner. Acpsahme leaned forward, explained their errand.

The guard compressed his lips angrily. "Go ahead," he growled. "He's on H deck, apartment Four-o-eight."

They went up in the lift. On H deck they walked slowly along the hall until they came to room 408.

"Get your gun out," said Koal, and knocked.

There was a bitter taste in Norman's mouth. He felt sick at his stomach as he had when he'd seen the murdered T.I.S. agent aboard the _Jupiter_.

The door opened.

Hops was framed in the entrance. He seemed to know instantly why the three grim-faced, silent men had come. His features went stiff with terror. He backed into the room. His mouth opened.

"All right," said Koal.

"_No!_" cried Hops.

Acpsahme's dart struck the informer in the neck.

"Search the room," commanded Koal, stepping across the informer's body.

They found a paper upon which Hops had been working. It contained the names of seventy-eight of the Sinn Feiners. Norman's name headed the list.

"A real distinction," observed the Martian dryly.

It was an honor that Norman didn't covet. They found nothing else of importance.

"Leave him lie," said Acpsahme. "I think we have been in time. The Dohlmites know there's a rebellion afoot, but they don't know who's concerned."

"This is one time," observed the Martian, "when what they don't know is going to hurt them."

They started out. At the door, Acpsahme stopped, yanked out his dart gun. Norman peering over his shoulders, saw a Dohlmite accompanied by a man in civilian clothes. They were scarcely a dozen steps down the corridor. The plant man's mask-like face gave no clue to what was passing through his mind. The Earth man, though, was plainly frightened.

"Del Solar," the Martian hissed, his voice sibilant. "He's come to get the names of the Sinn Feiners from Hops."

Del Solar spun around, began to run back down the hall. Again it was Acpsahme's dart which halted the man. Del Solar pitched forward on his face.

Koal fired three times at the plant man. Norman saw the darts strike the Dohlmite's chest, stick out like pins, but he didn't fall. The poisoned needles seemed to have no more effect on the plant man than they would have had on a tree. He, too, began to run.

"Quick," cried Acpsahme. "Don't let him escape."

Norman leaped in pursuit, tackled the fleeing plant man about the hips. They went down in a tangle. He saw a knife flash. It was withdrawn green and sticky. The Dohlmite quit struggling. Norman staggered to his feet.

"Good work," said Koal. He was wiping his blade on the plant man's harness.

A thought struck Norman. His stomach revolted, but he forced himself to say, "I want the corpse of the Dohlmite."

"Why?" ejaculated the Martian.

Briefly, he revealed his discovery of the blight-sickened plant. "I want to infect this Dohlmite with the blight. There's a chance that when his fellows carry him into their city, the blight will spread."

"It's a gamble," said Koal thoughtfully. "But it's worth it."

"Leave Del Solar lie where he is then," put in Acpsahme. "We'll take the Dohlmite."

They dragged the corpse of the plant man to the elevator, dropped swiftly to the basement. Acpsahme called the guard.

"We've had to kill a plant man," he said quietly.

A look of terror passed across the guard's features. Involuntarily, he took a backward step.

"We're taking the body," Acpsahme went on in a low voice. "Hops and an agent of the Venusian Export Lines are still above. Dispose of them as you think best."

The guard nodded. They loaded the stringy frame of the plant man into their car, shot out into the rosy sunlight.

Norman felt dazed. Although he had not actually killed any of the three, he considered himself as guilty as if it had been his finger that pulled the trigger. He began to tremble. He felt as if he were going to be violently sick.

"Brace up," said Koal with that queer intuition. "It'll pass."

Acpsahme chuckled. "The first man I killed, I ran to my house and cried like a baby. I couldn't stop. I wanted them to bleach the tattoo off my forehead."

Somehow Norman felt better.

* * * * *

When they reached the basement of F12, they left Acpsahme to guard the body, ascended in the lift to Norman's apartment.

Jennifer and the Duchess met them at the door. Jennifer had been crying, Norman saw with satisfaction.

"Norman, Norman," the girl said and flew to his arms.

He patted her shoulder, disengaged himself gently. "We've still got work to do."

"We had to kill Del Solar and a plant man," Koal explained briefly. "The Dohlmites are going to be furious, but I don't think they will suspect us. Norman has an experiment he wants to try with the body of the Dohlmite."

The Duchess turned to him, astonished.

"The blight," he explained. "I'm going to try to infect the plant man with the blight. When the Dohlmites find his body and carry it into their city, I'm gambling on it spreading."

He retrieved the infected plant from the balcony. Even in that short time the shrub had visibly wilted. The blight had spread over twice its former area.

"It seems to be a virulent disease," observed the Martian.

They carried the infected plant to the basement. Norman dusted the corpse from head to foot with the rust-like scales. Anything touching the body would be bound to come in contact with them.

"All right," said Acpsahme, "let's take him out and get this over with."

A broad yellow line marked the zone beyond which it was death to stray. It was the first time Norman had been close to the force wall. He looked at it curiously.

A ribbon of some unfamiliar silver metal wound like the track of a mono rail around the base of the hill where the Dohlmites had their houses. There were no visible rays arising from the ribbon, no distortion of the atmosphere, nothing. It looked utterly harmless.

"I wonder what would happen if you broke the circuit," speculated Norman.

"It's impossible," replied Koal. "The zone of force protects the ribbon. Look." He threw a pebble toward the silver track of metal. While still a yard from the ribbon, the stone exploded like a hand grenade. It was as if the force radiating from the track had touched off the atoms of the pebble. Norman blinked his eyes involuntarily.

"How do the Dohlmites pass through?"

"There's a gate only a short distance from here where they can shut off a segment of the wall."

The buildings of the human colony, Norman noticed, were set well back from the yellow warning line, leaving a broad road which paralleled the silver track. There was no one in sight. It seemed to be a very unpopular neighborhood.

"Get him out," grunted Acpsahme. They tossed the body of the disease-infected Dohlmite to the road.

"The Trojan horse," thought Norman, remembering a tale from the dawn of history. He glanced back once as they sped away.