The Year When Stardust Fell Part 17

"They caught Tucker redhanded with his bank vault stuffed to the ceiling with stolen goods. They don't need me!"

"They tried to kill you," Dr. Adams reminded him. "That's quite different from robbing a warehouse."

"I'm not interested in their punishment. It's more important to work on the a.n.a.lysis of the comet dust."

But there was no way out of it. Judge Rankin ordered Ken to appear. In spite of the fact that the building was unheated, and mushy snow was falling from a heavy sky once more, the courtroom was jammed on the day of the hearing.

Ken raged inwardly at the enormous waste of human resources. Men who should have been in the hills gathering wood, women who should have been at work on clothing and food projects were there to feed on the carca.s.ses of the reputations presently to be destroyed.

Ken had little difficulty feeling sorry for Jed. His former teammate had been a good sport in all Ken's experience of playing with him. He could almost feel pity for Jed's father, too. On the stand, the banker looked steadfastly at the floor as he answered questions in a dull, monotone voice. He admitted the theft of the warehouse goods.

Judge Rankin asked severely, "Why, Mr. Tucker? Why did you think you had any more right to h.o.a.rd supplies than the rest of us?"

For the first time the banker looked up, and he met the judge's eyes.

"We were scared," he said simply. "We were scared of what is going to happen this winter."

The judge's eyes flashed. "So you were scared?" he cried. "Don't you think we're all scared?"

The banker shook his head and looked at the floor. "I don't know," he said, as if in a daze. "We were just scared."

The lawyer, Allen, was more belligerent when he took the stand. "We merely did what anyone else in this courtroom would do if he had the chance, and thought of it first," he said. "Do with me what you like, but before this winter is over, I'll see you self-righteous citizens of Mayfield at each other's throats for a sc.r.a.p of food."

He admitted the attack on Ken, but denied the intent to kill.

When Ken's turn came, he told his story as simply and as quickly as possible, and when he had finished he said, "I'd like to add one more word, if I may."

The judge nodded. "Go ahead, Ken."

He looked over the faces of the audience. "We've got troubles enough,"

he said slowly. "As much as we hate to admit it, the picture Mr. Allen gives us may be right--unless we do what we can to stop it.

"We're wasting time and resources today. My father and I should be at the laboratory. Every man and woman here is neglecting a job. We waste time, deliberating about punishment for some of our neighbors who are perhaps weaker, but certainly no more frightened than the rest of us. If we lock them up in prison somebody has to watch out for them, and the whole community is deprived of their useful labor.

"Why don't we just let them go?"

A gasp of surprise came from the spectators, but a slow illumination seemed to light the face of Judge Rankin. His eyes moved from Ken to the accused men and then to the audience.

"This court has just heard what it considers some very sound advice," he said. "Jed, Mr. Tucker, Mr. Allen...."

The three stood before him.

"I am taking it upon myself, because of the emergency conditions that confront us, to declare that the penalty for your crime is continued and incessant labor at any task the community may see fit to a.s.sign you. You are marked men. Your crime is known to every member of this community.

There will be no escape from the surveillance of your neighbors and friends. I sentence you to so conduct yourselves in the eyes of these people that, if we do come through this time of crisis, you may stand redeemed for all time of the crime which you have committed.

"If you fail to do this, the punishment which will be automatically imposed is banishment from this community for the duration of the emergency.

"Court stands adjourned!"

A burst of cheers broke out in the room. The Tuckers and Mr. Allen looked as if they could not believe what they had heard. Then Jed turned suddenly and rushed toward Ken.

"It's no good saying I've been a fool, but let me say thanks for your help."

Mr. Tucker took Ken's other hand. "You'll never regret it, young man.

I'll see to it that you never regret it."

"It's okay," said Ken, almost gruffly. "We've all got a lot of work to do."

He turned as a figure brushed by them. Mr. Allen pushed through the crowd to the doorway. He looked at no one.

"We were fools," said Mr. Tucker bitterly. "Brainless, scared fools."

When they were gone, Dr. Aylesworth put his hand on Ken's shoulder.

"That was a mighty fine thing you did. I hope it sets a pattern for all of us in times to come."

"I didn't do it for them," said Ken. "I did it for myself."

The minister smiled and clapped the boy's shoulder again. "Nevertheless, you did it. That's what counts."

Chapter 10. _Victory of the Dust_

By the time Ken was through with the ordeal in court, Art Matthews had succeeded in building an engine from entirely new parts. He had it installed in an airtight room into which only filtered air could pa.s.s.

This room, and another air filter, had been major projects in themselves. The science club members had done most of the work after their daily stint at the laboratory, while Art had scoured the town for parts that would fit together.

At the end of the hearing Ken went to the garage. The engine had been running for 5 hours then. Art was grinning like a schoolboy who had just won a spelling bee. "She sure sounds sweet," he said. "I'll bet we can keep her going as long as we have gasoline."

"I hope so," Ken said. "It's just a waste of power to let it run that way, though."

Art scratched his head. "Yeah. It's funny, power is what we've been wanting, and now we've got a little we don't know what to do with it."

"Let's see if we can find a generator," said Ken. "Charge some batteries with it. Do you think there's one in town?"

"The best deal I can think of would be to scrounge a big motor, say an elevator motor, and convert it. The one belonging to the 5-story elevator in the Norton Building is our best bet. I don't imagine it froze up before the power went out."

"Let's get it then," said Ken. "Shut this off until we're ready to use it. To be on the safe side, could you cast some new bearings for the generator?"

"I don't see why not."

When he returned home Ken told his father for the first time about the project Art was working on.

"It sounds interesting," Professor Maddox said. "I'm not sure exactly what it will prove."

Ken slumped in the large chair in the living room, weak after his exertions of the day. "It would mean that if we could find enough unfrozen engines, or could a.s.semble them from spare parts, we could get some power equipment in operation again.

"However, as Art said about this one engine, what good is it? Dad--even if we lick this problem, how are things ever going to get started up again?"