Stormalong," said Jonnie. But as Lars said nothing, Jonnie decided to take it along.

They had done it!

How he would get himself out of this mess he didn't know. He was a little puzzled as to why the other two had driven off when the battle plane must still be down there. But he was grateful they were out of it.

“Let's go,” he said.

They exited from a different ground-level door, one that was usually locked. Jonnie glanced around for a cadet to give Stormalong's kit to and saw no one.

"I’ll see that it's taken to the Academy,” said Lars, divining his purpose. He must not see too deeply into the dispositions Lars had made, most of which prevented them from being seen by anyone lest Lars find himself with a battle on his hands from cadets or Russians, some of whom had just arrived at the underground base in the mountains and were a considerable force.

A storm was coming in from over the mountains, rolling black clouds, studded with lightning around the distant Highpeak. The wind was picking up and bending the tall brown grass. A few dead leaves fled through the air.

Autumn was here. There was a chill in the air on this mile-high plateau.

It gave Jonnie an eerie feeling, almost a premonition. He had left Africa in a storm and here was a storm again. He threw the kit in the back and got in. The windows were darkened so no one could see in. With submachine guns trained upon him, they drove toward the capital.

Lars was a bad driver and Jonnie could see how he must have gotten the cracked neck the plaster cast advertised. Jonnie despised him. Jonnie had known lots of Swedes and they were good people; he had even gathered from Lars' conversation that they despised him too.

The man tried to chatter on about the ancient military leader but Jonnie had had enough. “Shut up,” he said from the back. “You're nothing but a turncoat traitor. I don't see how you can stand yourself. So shut up.” It was unwise but he couldn't go on listening to this insanity.

Lars shut up but his eyes slitted. He suddenly enjoyed the fact that this criminal would be dead in a few hours.

The ground car squatted down at a side entrance to the capital, never used. There were no people to be seen. There were no people in the corridor either. Lars had seen to that.

They thrust him toward a door. Unseen Brigantes in the shadows kept their guns trained upon him. Two more were in the courtroom, in the corners, Thompsons cocked and ready.

And there sat Brown Limper.

He was at a high desk on a dais. He was in a black robe. Ancient law books flanked him on either side. His face had an unhealthy sheen. His eyes were too bright. He loomed like a vulture about to attack a corpse. Just himself, the Brigante guards, and this Tyler in an otherwise empty room.

It was Tyler! He had recognized that the moment the fellow strode through the door. There was an air about this Tyler one couldn't miss. He had hated it since they were children. Hated that easy confident walk, hated that set of even features, hated those light blue eyes. He had hated everything Tyler was and he could never be. But who had the power now? He, Brown Limper! How he had daydreamed of this moment.

“Tyler?” said Brown Limper. “Come stand in front of the court bench! Answer me: is your name Jonnie Goodboy Tyler?” Brown Limper had a recorder running. Such proceedings must be regular and legal.

Jonnie came to a bored stand in front of the bench. “What is this farce, Brown Limper? You know my name well enough.”

“Silence!” said Brown Limper, hoping his voice was resonant and deep. “The prisoner will answer correctly and properly or become guilty of contempt of court!”

“I see no court,” said Jonnie. “What are you doing in that funny dress?”

"Tyler, I am adding contempt of court to these charges.”

“Add what you please,” said Jonnie, bored with it.

“You will not consider this lightly when I read you what you are charged with! This at present is just a hearing. In a week or two, a World Court will be established and the trial will take place at that time. But as a felon and criminal you have the right to hear the charges so that you can organize your defense when tried!

“Now hear ye, hear ye. You are charged with a count of murder in the first degree, the victims being the Chamco brothers, loyal employees of the state, feloniously assaulted with intent to kill and later dying by their own hand due to pain of their wounds.

“Kidnapping in the first degree, the said Tyler assaulting and feloniously seizing the persons of two Coordinators going about their legal duties as agents of the Council.

“Murder and felonious assault upon a peace-loving and unoffending tribe called the Brigantes including the slaughter of half a commando.

“Massacre of a convoy of peaceful commercial people going about their business and viciously and maliciously slaughtering them to the last man.”

"Psychlos," said Jonnie. “They were Psychlos organizing an attack upon this capital.”

“That's stricken from the records!” said Brown Limper. Indeed, he would have to erase it from this disc. “You are not on trial. These are just the charges that have been brought against you by decent and deserving citizens of this planet. Remain silent and hear the charges!

“It is noted by the court,” continued Brown Limper-how he had slaved over this parlance from ancient books; he hoped he had it all right and legal-'that numerous other charges could be brought but at this time have not been brought.”

“Such as?” said Jonnie, indifferent to this clown.

“When you seized the remote control panel from one Terl and launched the drone against man, it has also been stated that you then and thereupon shot down said Terl when he was in the act of trying to shoot down the drone. However, there being witnesses, undoubtedly perjured and extorted by you to speak false testimony, who speak otherwise, the charges have not been included at this time, though of course they may be brought at some later date.”

“So that's all you could come up with,” said Jonnie, with irony. “Nothing about stealing babies' milk? I’m surprised!”

“You won't be so arrogant when you hear the rest of this,” threatened Brown Limper. “I am an impartial judge and this is a legal and impartial court. In the interim time pending your trial, you are forbidden to use any more of my...l mean, Council property such as planes, cars, houses, equipment, or tools!”

Brown Limper had him! Quick as a flash he pulled out the bill of sale of the Earth branch of the Intergalactic Mining Company and thrust it at Tyler.

Tyler took it and looked at it. “For a sum of two billion credits, one Terl, duly authorized representative of the party of the first part which shall hereafter be called the party of the first part, did hereby convey all lands, mines, minesites, compounds, planes, tools, machinery, cars, tanks...on and on....to the Council of Earth, the duly elected and authorized government of said planet, to have and to hold forever and from this day forward.” It was signed "Terl," but Jonnie, who knew Terl's signature, saw that it must have been written with the wrong paw. He started to put it in his pouch.

“No, no!” shouted Brown Limper. “That is the original!” He fussed around in the papers on his desk and handed over a copy and exchanged it for the original. Jonnie put the copy in his pouch.

“And not only that,” said Brown Limper, “the whole planet was the property of Intergalactic and there is a deed for that as well!” He started to hand over the original, thought better of it, found a copy, and handed it over.

Jonnie glanced at it. Terl had actually sold these fools their planet!

“The deeds are valid,” said Brown Limper pompously. “That is, they will be when fully recorded.”