Badge of Infamy by Lester del Rey (easy novels to read txt) 📕

sands, a gray Medical Corps tractor

was coming. Either they'd had a spy in the village or they'd guessed the

rate of her infection very closely. They must have hoped to catch Doc in

the act, and they'd barely missed.

 

It wouldn't matter. Their pictures and what testimony they could force

from the village should be enough to hang Doc.

VI (Research)

There had been a council the night following the death of Harriet Lynn.

Somehow the word had spread through the villages and the chiefs had

assembled in Jake's village. But they had brought no solution, and in

the long run had been forced to accept Doc's decision.

 

"I'm not going to retire and hide," he'd told them, surprised at his own

decision, but grimly determined. "You need me and I need you. I'll move

every day in hopes the Lobby police won't find me, but I won't quit."

 

Now he was packing the things he most needed and getting ready to move.

The small bottles in which he was trying to grow his cultures would need

warmth. He shoved them into an inner pocket, and began surveying what

must be left.

 

He was heading for his tractor when another battered machine drove up.

It had a girl of about fourteen, with tears streaming down her face. She

held out a pleading hand, and her voice was scared. "It's--it's mama!"

 

"Where?"

 

"Leibnitz."

 

Leibnitz was near enough. Doc started his tractor, motioning for the

girl to lead the way. The little dwelling she led him to was at the edge

of the village, looking more poverty-stricken than most.

 

Chris Ryan, and three of the Medical Lobby police were inside, waiting.

The girl's mother was tied to the bed, with a collection of medical

instruments laid out, but apparently the threat had been enough. No

actual injury had been inflicted. Probably none had been intended

seriously.

 

"I knew you'd answer that kind of call," Chris said coldly.

 

He grinned sickly. They'd wasted no time. "I hear it's more than you'll

do, Chris. Congratulations! My patient died. You're lucky."

 

"She was certainly dead when my men took her picture. The print shows

the death grimace clearly."

 

"Pretty. Frame it and keep it to comfort you when you feel lonely," he

snapped.

 

She struck him across the mouth with the handle of her gun. Then she

twisted out through the door quickly, heading for the tractor that had

been camouflaged to look like those used by the villagers. The three

police led him behind her.

 

A shout went up, and people began to rush onto the village street. But

they were too late. By the time they reached Southport, Doc could see a

trail of battered tractors behind, but there was nothing more the people

could do. Chris had her evidence and her prisoner.

 

       *       *       *       *       *

 

Judge Ben Wilson might have been Jake's brother. He was older and

grayer, but the same expression lay on his face. He must have been the

family black sheep, since his father had been president of Space Lobby.

Instead of inheriting the position, Wilson had remained on Mars, safely

out of the family's way.

 

He dropped the paper he was reading to frown at Chris. "This the

fellow?"

 

She began formal charges, but he cut them off. "Your lawyer already had

all that drawn up. I've been expecting you, Doctor. Doctor! Hnnf! You'd

do a lot better home somewhere raising a flock of babies. Well, young

fellow--so you're Feldman. Okay, your trial comes up day after tomorrow.

Be a shame to lock you in Southport jail, a man of your importance.

We'll just keep you here in the pending-trial room. It's a lot more

comfortable."

 

Chris had been boiling slowly, and now she seemed to blow her safety

valve. "Judge Wilson, your methods are your own business in local

affairs. But this involves Earth Medical Lobby. I demand--"

 

"Tch, _tch_!" The judge stared at her reprovingly. "Young woman, you

don't demand anything. This is Mars. If Space Lobby can stand me, I

guess our friends over at Medical will have to. Or should I hold trial

right now and find Feldman innocent for lack of evidence?"

 

"You wouldn't!" Chris cried. Then her face sobered suddenly. "I

apologize. Medical is pleased to leave things in your hands, of course."

 

Wilson smiled. "Court's closed for today. Doc, I'll show you your cell.

It's right next to my study, so I'm heading there anyhow."

 

He began shucking his robe while Chris went out with the police, her

voice sharp and continual.

 

The cell was both reasonably escape-proof and comfortable, Doc saw, and

he tried to thank the judge.

 

But the old man waved it aside. "Forget it. I just like to see that

little termagant taken down. But don't count on my being soft. My

methods may be a bit unusual--I always did like the courtroom scenes in

the old books by that fellow Smith--but Space Lobby never had any

reason to reverse my decisions. Anything you need?"

 

"Sure," Doc told him, grinning in spite of his bitterness. "A good

biology lab and an electron microscope."

 

"Umm. How about a good optical mike and some stains? Just got them in on

the last shipment. Figure they were meant for you anyhow, since Jake

Mullens asked me to order them."

 

He went out and came back with the box almost at once. He snorted at

Doc's incredulous thanks and moved off, his bedroom slippers slapping

against the hard floor.

 

Doc stared after him. If he were a friend of Jake, willing to invent

some excuse to get a microscope here ... but it didn't matter. Friend or

foe, his death sentence would be equally fatal. And there were other

things to be thought of now. The little microscope was an excellent one,

though only a monocular.

 

Doc's hands trembled as he drew his cultures out and began making up a

slide. The sun offered the best source of light near the window, and he

adjusted the instrument. Something began to come into view, but too

faintly to be really visible.

 

He remembered the stains, trying to recall his biology courses. More by

luck than skill, his fourth try gave him results.

 

Under two thousand powers, he could just see details. There were dozens

of cells in his impure culture, but only one seemed unfamiliar. It was a

long, worm-like thing, sharpened at both ends, with the three separate

nuclei that were typical of Martian life forms. Nearby were a host of

little rodlike squiggles just too small to see clearly.

 

Martian life! No Martian bug had ever proved harmful to men. Yet this

was no mutated cell or virus from Earth; it was a new disease,

completely different from all others. It was one where all Earth's

centuries of experience with bacteria would be valueless--the first

Martian disease. Unless this was simply some accidental contamination of

his culture, not common to the other samples. He worked on until the

light was too faint before putting the microscope aside.

 

By the time the trial commenced, however, he was sure of the cause of

the disease. It _was_ Martian. Crude as his cultures were, they had

proved that.

 

The little courtroom was filled, mostly from the villages. Lou was

there, along with others he had come to know. Then the sight of Jake

caught Doc's eyes. The darned fool had no business there; he could get

too closely mixed into the whole mess.

 

"Court's in session," Wilson announced. "Doc, you represented by

counsel?"

 

Jake's voice answered. "Your Honor, I represent the defendant. I think

you'll find my credentials in order."

 

Chris started to protest, but Wilson grinned. "Never lost your standing

in spite of that little fracas thirty years ago, so far as I know. But

the police thought you were a witness when you came walking in. Figured

you were giving up."

 

"I never said so," Jake answered.

 

Chris was squirming angrily, but the florid man acting as counsel for

Medical Lobby shook his head, bending over to whisper in her ear. He

straightened. "No objection to counsel for the defense. We recognize his

credentials."

 

"You're a fool, Matthews," the judge told him. "Jake was smarter than

half the rest of Legal Lobby before he went native. Still can tie your

tail to a can. Okay, let's start things. I'm too old to dawdle."

 

Doc lost track of most of what happened. This was totally unlike

anything on Earth, though it might have been in keeping with the general

casualness of the villages. Maybe the ritualistic routine of the Lobbies

was driving those who could resist to the opposite extreme.

 

Chris was the final witness. Matthews drew comment of Feldman's former

crime from her, and Jake made no protest, though Wilson seemed to expect

one. Then she began sewing his shroud. There wasn't a fact that managed

to emerge without slanting, though technically correct. Jake sat

quietly, smiling faintly, and making no protests.

 

He got up lazily to cross-examine Chris. "Dr. Ryan, when Daniel Feldman

was examined by the Captain of the _Navaho_ after arriving at Mars

station, did you identify him then as having been Dr. Daniel Feldman?"

 

She glanced at Matthews, who seemed puzzled but unconcerned. "That's

correct," she admitted. "But--"

 

"And you later saw him delivered to the surface of Mars. Is that also

correct?" When she assented, Jake hesitated. Then he frowned. "What did

you do then? Did you report him or send anyone to look after him or

anything like that?"

 

"Certainly not," she answered. "He was no--"

 

"You did absolutely nothing about him after you identified him and saw

him delivered here? You're quite sure of that?"

 

"I did nothing."

 

Jake stood quietly for a moment, then shrugged. "No more questions."

 

Matthews finished things in a plea for the salvation of all humanity

from the danger of such men as Daniel Feldman. He was looking smug, as

was Chris.

 

Wilson turned to Jake. "Has the defense anything to say?"

 

"A few things, Your Honor." Jake stood up, suddenly looking certain and

pleased. "We are happy to admit everything factual the Lobby had

testified. Daniel Feldman performed a surgical operation on Harriet Lynn

in the village of Einstein. But when has it been illegal for a member of

the Medical profession to perform an operation, even with small chance

of success, within an accepted area for such operation? There has been

no evidence adduced that any crime or act of even unethical conduct was

committed."

 

That brought Chris and Matthews to their feet. Wilson was relaxed again,

looking as if he'd swallowed a whole cage of canaries. He banged his

gavel down.

 

Jake picked up two ragged and dog-eared volumes from his table. "Case of

Harding vs. Southport, 2043, establishes that a Lobby is responsible for

any member on Mars. It is also responsible for informing the authorities

of any criminal conduct on the part of its members or any former member

known to it. Failure to report shall be considered an admission that the

Lobby recognizes the member as one in good standing and accepts

responsibility for that member's conduct.

 

"At the time Daniel Feldman arrived, Dr. Christina Ryan was the highest

appointed representative of Medical Lobby in Southport, with full

authority. She identified Feldman as having been a doctor, without

stipulating any change in status. She made no further report to any

authority concerning Daniel Feldman's presence here. It seems obvious

that Medical Lobby at Southport thereby accepted Daniel Feldman as a

doctor in good standing for whose conduct the Lobby accepted full

responsibility."

 

Wilson studied the book Jake held out, and nodded. "Seems pretty

clear-cut to me," he agreed, passing the book on to Matthews. "There's

still the charge that Dr. Feldman operated outside a hospital."

 

"No reason he shouldn't," Jake said. He handed over the other volume.

"This is the charter for Medical Lobby on Mars. Medical Lobby agrees to

perform all necessary surgical and medical services for the planet,

though at the signing of this charter there was no hospital on Mars.

Necessarily, Medical Lobby agreed to perform surgery outside of any

hospital, then. But to make it plainer, there's a later paragraph--page

181--that defines each hospital zone as extending not less than three

nor more than one hundred miles. Einstein is about one hundred and ten

miles from the nearest