 Why did Pete send the rebels to break Brian out of jail?
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Brian Hanson looked disgustedly at Pete Brent, his lanky assistant. Brian Hanson wondered dispassionately for a moment how his assistants could fail to be as absorbed as he was by the work they were doing, then he let it go as he stepped outside the research building. True, there had been others, pioneers, before the company came, who objected to the expansion of the monopolistic control. But, if they could not realize that the company's regime served the best interests of the planet, they would just have to suffer the consequences of their own ignorance. Anything involving executions had to be referred to the Interplanetary Council on Earth. This walk was part of a regular routine of physical exercise that kept his body hard and resilient in spite of long hours spent in the laboratory. He was making that walk in precisely seven minutes, four and four-fifths seconds. Pete Brent's joking words flashed back to him. Brian slowly acquired a complexion suitable for painting fire plugs. He struggled out of the bath, wrapped his damp bathrobe clammily around him and marched to the door with a seething fury of righteous anger burning within him. Four police constables and a sergeant swarmed into the room, shoving him away from the door. "Wherethehell's who?" "Quit stallin', bud. "I'm not going anywhere to see anybody. Brian Hanson, Chief of Research for Venus Consolidated, as dignified as possible in a damp bathrobe, glared out through the bars at a slightly bewildered Pete Brent. If sending that damn blonde to my apartment and getting me arrested is your idea of a joke—" "But, my gosh, I didn't send anybody, chief. Police have been after her for months; she's a rebel and she's sure been raising plenty of hell around here. Pete lowered his voice to an appreciative whisper, "Gosh, chief, I didn't know you had it in you. All I want is to get out of here—" "Gotcha, chief," Brent whispered understandingly. For the nineteenth time Brian Hanson strode to the door of his cell and rattled the bars. "Listen here, guard, you've got to take a message to McHague. I don't care if you are—" Brian's eyes almost popped out as he saw a gloved hand reach around the guard's neck and jam a rag over his nose and mouth. Another guard was caught and silenced as he came around the end of the corridor.
 Brian told Pete that he wanted to get out of jail.
 Pete believed in the rebel cause.  Pete felt bad since it was his fault Brian was in jail.  Pete would do anything to help his boss.  Brian told Pete that he wanted to get out of jail.