He pulled an object from his pocket. It was a bum-bum gun. Sanderson seemed not to see it. L'Sor grunted contemptuously. Miss Tweedham caught her breath. Early moved toward the door.
"I'm going up and put the fix on this Malovel," Early said. "Then I'm coming back down here and I'm taking over Sandersonville. Johnny Sanderson has lost his nerve and he's through." He stalked through the door.
Through the window, Sanderson watched him go quickly up the slope. In this light gravity, the man walked rapidly. He was soon out of sight. L'Sor and Miss Tweedham moved to Sanderson's side at the window.
"You deliberately needled him into going up there," Miss Tweedham spoke.
"Maybe because you're scared to go yourself." Her voice had a cutting edge that grated along Sanderson's nerves. Beside him, he heard L'Sor's sharply indrawn breath, a sure sign of rising anger in the Martian.
"Why don't you go to this ruler and demand water?" The schoolteacher continued. "You're the leader here. Are you going to let your people starve?"
Sanderson wiped a thin film of sweat from his face. "Nobody has starved yet."
"How long before 'yet' becomes 'Died of Starvation A.D. 2179' on a tombstone? Or will Malovel let you erect tombstones?"
"There are two reasons. One is our own bargain, our own agreement. The other is the esse. Malovel has the esse."
"It's a weapon," Sanderson said, uncomfortably. "We don't talk much about it."
"Which means you're scared and don't knew what you're afraid of. I still think--EEK!" A gust of sharp, protesting sound exploded from her lips. A hand came up. With her index finger, she made little jabbing motions toward the chair where Early had been sitting.
"What--what is that?" Her voice was suddenly shrill.
A doll, or an old dwarf, or a worn-out elf was sitting in the chair. Miss Tweedham pointed at this. The doll was relaxed and at ease. Its head had fallen forward across its chest. The doll was remarkably life-like. Every hair was visible on the head, each skin wrinkle was clear on the back of the neck. The clothing was ragged, holes showed in the bottoms of the shoes.
"What--what is that?" the woman repeated.
"The esse." L'Sor breathed. "Malovel used the esse."
"Early's dead," Sanderson said. "Quite dead." He stepped forward in time to catch Miss Tweedham before she fell.