J. Francis McComas

“ Goldsmid said. "Expecting, but not quite believing."
Halloran looked thoughtfully at the physicist. "Dr. Lansing, these ships of yours ... they're pretty big, I take it?"
"Not as big as we like. They never are. But they'll do. Why?"
"I should remind you that we have well over two thousand inmates here."
"Inmates!" barked the general. "Who the devil said anything about your inmates? Think we'll take a lot of convicts to Mars! Populate it with killers, thieves—"
"Who does go, then?" Halloran did not raise his voice but Knox looked suddenly uneasy. ”

“ Goldsmid replied.
"Well," Halloran said gently, "still going to send those tanks after me, general?"
"Uh ... no ... I won't interfere with a man doing his duty."
Lansing cleared his throat, looked slowly from the somber-faced clergyman, to the fidgeting medico, to the burly captain, still staring impassively at the general, to, finally, the quiet, smiling warden. "Gentlemen," he said slowly, "it occurs to me that the situation hasn't actually registered on you. The earth is really doomed, you know. This dust simply won't tolerate organic life. ”

“ Halloran said.
He watched the lanky civilian as Lansing puffed jerkily on his cigar. A long man, with a shock of black hair tumbling over a high, narrow forehead, Lansing had introduced himself as chairman of the project's coördinating committee ... whatever that was.
"Go ahead," grunted Knox. "But make it fast, doctor."
Lansing smiled at the warden, carefully placed his cigar in the ash tray before him and said, "We've been working on the ships night and day. Both the dust itself and its secondary effects are getter closer to us all the time. ”

“ A long time ago, gentlemen, I decided I'd spend my life helping the one man in our society who seemingly can't help himself, the so-called criminal. I've always felt that society owes a debt to the criminal ... ”

“ He hesitated, grinned apologetically at Captain Court. "I'm sermonizing again, eh, Alfred? But," he shrugged, "if I must get dramatic about it I can only say that my life's work ends only with my—death."
"It's quite a rough job, you know," Goldsmid remarked. "This is a maximum security institution. Too many of the inmates have disappointed the warden. But he keeps trying and we've learned to follow his example."
"Our psychiatric bunch have done some mighty interesting things," beamed Slade, "even with cases that looked absolutely hopeless."
"None of them can be saved now," muttered Lansing. ”

“ Warden Halloran smiled slightly. "You expect to have criminals on Mars, then?" he asked. "Is that why you want me?"
"Of course we don't, sir!" snapped the lieutenant general. His name was Knox. "We need men of your administrative ability—"
"Pardon me, general," Lansing interposed smoothly, "I rather think we'd better give the warden a ... a more detailed picture, shall we say? We have been rather abrupt, you know." ”

“ Halloran's voice lost all humor, "you can start ripping out the gas chamber whenever you're ready to. I'll see that you get the tools."
The swell of applause was so loud in the office that Court hastily turned down the speaker's volume.
"All right," Halloran said when they had quieted down, "that's about it. You're free now, till supper-time. I'd suggest all of you start right now, thinking about your future—"
Outside the main gate, first Knox, then Lansing shook hands with the gray-faced warden. ”

“ We classify the inmates according to the amount of responsibility they can handle."
"I see. Ah—" he laughed embarrassedly, "this is the first time I've been in a prison. Mind telling me what his crime was?"
Halloran smiled gently. "We try to remember the man, Dr. Lansing, and not his crime." Then he relented. "Joe Mario was just a small-time crook who got mixed up in a bad murder."
Lansing whistled.
"Aren't we wasting time?" growled the general. "Seems to me, warden, you could be ordering your people to pack up without any conference. You're in charge here, aren't you?" ”

“ The two visitors jumped.
"What's that?" cried Knox.
"Yard time," Halloran smiled. "The men are allowed two hours out in the yard, now. They exercise, play games, or just sit around and talk."
"Oh."
"Did I understand you correctly, Warden Halloran?" Lansing's bony face was pale now. "Do you refuse to come with us?"
When the bell rang, Joe Mario had been standing near the door to the warden's office, ostensibly filing reports. Now, he closed the drawer with a bang, stretched, and started toward the outside door.
"Where are you going?" the guard asked suspiciously. ”

“ For, like the hapless freshmen, Warden Halloran was quite obviously not listening to him. But the scientist plunged on. "Sir," he said hoarsely, "we need you. We will need you! I'm a scientist—I know nothing of the problems of ... ah, community living. Neither does Knox. He's accustomed to major crises—and solving them by giving orders. But both of us know there'll come a time when people won't take orders—"
"Absolutely correct," Knox said unexpectedly. "Once we get settled on Mars, the military takes a back seat. And—I mean this, Lansing—I'll be damn' glad of it. ”

“ They listened again while assorted thieves, murderers, rapists, men—save for an innocent few—whose hands were consistently raised against their fellows' peace and property, heard their jailor tell them that the end of their world, a world that many of them remembered but dimly, was coming to an end. ”

“ But no one remembered there was a prison nearby."
The warden looked at the rabbi. Goldsmid raised his heavy shoulders in an ancient Hebraic gesture.
"That was always the trouble, wasn't it, Pete?" Halloran murmured. "People never remembered the prisons!"
The telephone beside him shrilled loudly, urgently.
The inmate mopping the floor of Condemned Row's single corridor slowed in front of Bert Doyle's cell. Doyle was slated for a ride down the elevator that night to the death cell behind the gas chamber. ”

“ The guard stood in front of the door of heavy steel bars. Father Nelson looked down at the man on the bunk.
"I'll tell you everything, Bert. I swear it."
"Uh, Father?" the guard's voice was nervous—and embarrassed.
"Yes, Perkins?"
"I ... I can't let you out right now. Orders from the warden. Not a cell door opens till I hear from him direct."
Doyle chuckled.
"Might as well sit down, Father," he said, "and make yourself comfortable—"
"What will you do?" ”

“ I'll ask the warden about letting the men out of their cells. What's their attitude?"
The sergeant's broad, red face grew more troubled.
"Uh ... the men aren't hostile, captain. They seem worried, nervous ... kind of scared. If somebody at the top—the warden or yourself—could convince them things were as usual outside ... they'd quiet down, I'm sure."
They were now thirty feet from the door to the administration building a door that opened for but one man at a time. The officers stopped.
"Things are not normal outside," Court growled, "and you know it. ”

“ You should do darned well. Life should be easy enough for you. You've got your own farms, your livestock, laundry, hospital, shops—everything a man can need. So, take over and run things to suit yourselves. ”

“ At any rate, we can't argue the matter—so let's do what we're asked. I think you'd better plan to get the guards out of here tonight, at shift change. Might pass the word to their wives now, so they can start packing a few essentials. Doc," he turned to Slade, "before you get your greedy hands on Squeaker's gall bladder, you'd better round up your staff and have them make the proper arrangements."
"O.K., I'll put it up to them."
"You'll not put it up to them," the warden said sharply. "You'll order them to be ready when the general, here, wants them." ”

“ Lansing said.
Court stood up and took one step toward the general.
"Alfred!" the warden did not lift his voice, but Court stopped. "General Knox," Halloran went on in a conversational tone, "you're being a bit of bully, you know, and in this prison we've all been ... ah, conditioned against bullies." He looked down at his desk and frowned. "However, I'll admit that your position requires that I elaborate my reasons for staying here. Well, then. As I see it, your people, your ... ah, colonists, can help themselves. Most of my people, the inmates here, can't. ”

“ In some way—we have not had time to discover how—it's self-multiplying, so, as I said, it spreads. Right now, not a tenth of this entire continent—from the pole down to the Panama Canal—is capable of supporting any kind of life as we know it. ”

“ Knox grunted.
"Thank you." Halloran reached for his phone, then dropped his hands on his desk. "I'd like to ask you a question," he said. "Perhaps it's presumptuous, but I'm rather curious about the ... er, last workings of our government. Tell me, don't you really have room for our inmates? You haven't told us how many ships you've built. Or how big they are."
Lansing looked at Knox. The general flushed, then stared at the floor. Lansing shrugged tiredly.
"Oh, we've plenty of room," he sighed. "But ... our orders are to take only those completely fit to build a new world. We've ... ”