"You are to be commended," the Court said, as spokesman for the machine, "for your excellent work as a member of the World Bureau of Investigation. However, there is a little matter of a radio set concealed in your home—"
Arthur's face went white. Helen, he thought. That movement in the darkness—she hadn't been asleep! Of course. She was loyal to the cause, even to the extent of betraying her husband; perhaps she even suspected about Julie. He almost laughed aloud.
"But that was for emergency use," he pleaded, knowing it would do no good, "to contact the WBI when necessary."
"That may be," the Court conceded. "However, it was unauthorized, and it is even possible that its use might be harmful to the State. Until we can investigate further, you will be sentenced to a temporary term of one year on the Lunar Prison Colony, after which your case will be automatically up for review. I understand you applied for Lunar duty. This will give you an excellent opportunity to become acquainted with conditions firsthand."
The Court's gavel fell, an archaic but effective symbol of the passing of judgment. He did not look at the other prisoners who sat gloating nearby, even in the losing of their cause. Strange, Arthur Dunlop thought almost unemotionally, the way things had turned out....
The Lunar Prison ship came down out of the sky like a gray-metal coffin, settling with infinite slowness to the dock where the prisoners waited silently. The airlock opened and a gangplank stretched its finger towards them. A blond uniformed man strode from the ship, his Captain's bars glinting in the afternoon sunlight.
The Earthguard came forward, holding out a list of names. "Some additions to your labor camp, my dear Captain," he said jovially.
"And welcome they'll be," the Captain said, an indefinable glint in his eyes. "We have a lot of work to accomplish up there."
"So I've heard," the guard said.