"Exactly," agreed Wheelwright, grimly. He leaned forward, tapping Bannerman's desk with a lean forefinger, his grey brows fierce over his bright dark eyes. "The one place Lucas slipped his men, let them kill for the sheer piratical joy of killing. We had nothing sure before, but on Banya Tor he spun his own death-rope. Nothing has been touched, as ordered?"
"Nothing, sir. The air-dome is still smashed where he drove his ship through as the Patrol came down from the hills. The ... the bodies are still just as his butchers left them. Frozen."
Wheelwright leaned back, clasping his knee in its black and silver hose. His eyes fell. "I can't quite feature it. Perhaps he thought he could clean up the asteroid afterward; perhaps his crew just got tired playing Robin Hood. Anyway, letting off steam at Banya Tor is going to cut short Chain Lucas' career before many days are out. I've seen things on the runs we don't talk about, Bannerman, but those women hanged in their own dresses over fires...." He shuddered violently. Bannerman nodded.
"And the necklaces of hands and eyes Lucas hung on others before his men dismembered them by inches," he added grimly.
"Exactly." General Wheelwright bit his lip. "The man's cracked, mad. How many more atrocities we've found are actually his rather than the work of lesser pirates we may never know. But to all the worlds he is still the wild, free spirit of Adventure. Knowing nothing of Banya Tor."
"As you ordered," pointed out Bannerman. Wheelwright agreed.
"I have my reasons, Bannerman. Knowing nothing of all this, suppose this Chanler woman could be taken to Banya Tor and shown exactly as he left it in his flight the true horror of this pirate raid, the real nature of piracy, the nature of the tin Robin Hood?"
Bannerman gaped aghast. "You planned that?"
"From the first weak call for help. I reached there about as soon as the Patrol ships and ordered the whole story on ice."
"You can prove to her it was Lucas?"