Tyranopolis, page 4
Fourteen had an impulse to make another baffled sound. With a gulping effort he restrained himself.
Three was continuing in a taut voice, ‘At this moment, sir, it is believed that you were in some way duped by Higenroth. And I am sure you realize that that is the most lenient view that you may hope for. That is all. Disconnect.’
Fourteen sank back into the bed, pale but resigned. He recognized the exact significance of the evaluation made. He was being classified as a fool, which - he realized gloomily - was better than any one of the numerous criminal designations that could have been assigned his negligence. He could have been labelled a wrecker. Or a counter-revolutionary. Or a tool of academic rightists. Or an ultra-leftist. Or other diminishments.
The situation was too serious for him to dare remain in bed. Belatedly, he realized that he should have got up right after the first call, and made himself available. That - he deduced now - was what Three must have done.
Hastily, he bathed and shaved, and put on his clothes. And waited. After a while he put in a call for breakfast. It was brought with the usual courtesy. It had been cooked to his taste, and it was served by attentive waiters. Which testified that his disgrace was still a private affair.
As the morning lengthened, Fourteen decided: While I’m waiting, I might as well take care of certain departmental business that I’ve been holding over for a spare moment.
Which he proceeded to do, by phone and by messenger.
And that also was encouraging. It meant that no attempt was being made as yet to curtail his rights as a member of the Supreme Praesidium … So I’ll wait patiently. And do as much work as possible …
It was pointed out by the investigating committee: on so vast a planet as earth, thousands of events occur every hour. Ships are at sea. Planes are in the air. Trains, buses, cars, people are on the move. And the enormous rocket system for weather, moon, Mars, the asteroids, and other space stations operates on its numerous schedules.
Nobody - it was pointed out - can oppose or take account of so many separate activities, or conceal what he has done once the people that he does control have departed from where he is - not even Higenroth.
So there have to be clues.
That level of reasoning produced a few significant facts. At one of the rocket fields three men were dead, and a rocket was missing.
A number of people were located who had in the line of duty participated in the arrival of the military jet at this rocket field - the jet that carried Crother Williams and other government agents.
But where could the rocket itself have gone? It was presently established that the missing craft was definitely launched. The commission interrogated every connected person who was at that field on that night. During the two weeks of the investigation, the anxious members of the commission got no more than a few hours of restless sleep each night.
After that tense fortnight, they printed their conclusion:
Military Jet NA-6-23-J-271-D was, during the late evening of August 19, 2231 A.D., ordered by Praesidium Member Crother Williams to fly to the home of Professor Dun Higenroth. It settled onto the professor’s lawn shortly after midnight, and remained there while unidentified and improperly described equipment was loaded onto it. It then flew to a rocket base, known to government people by the code Hinksa (but publicly called Space Flight Centre 18). There the still undescribed machinery was unloaded into base trucks H-851 and H-327, and transported to the loading platform of rocket repeat type A-J-A 60901. Loaders Malcom Rude and Svely Gruden lifted the equipment up into the freight compartment Storage G-8-T of the rocket, and stored it there. On subsequently being informed that there would be an immediate lift-off, the two men removed the loading platform to its underground safety stall.
In the firing room, the late (murdered) Dal Asher and the late (murdered) Janu Harlitz presumably were informed of the destination of the rocket, and presumably fired the rocket toward that destination, using their programmed systems for doing so, and then erasing the program. The only other person who could have known the destination, the late (murdered) Mathew Arondee, an orbit expert in charge of navigation records for night launches, apparently had those records stolen or destroyed.
According to the evidence of several dozen witnesses, Praesidium Member Crother Williams was the last person to see all of these three (murdered) persons alive.
Subsequently, witnesses reported that Praesidium Member Williams returned to the military jet NA-6, which thereupon flew off and landed in the palace aircraft receiving centre. It remained there until shortly after nine a.m. next morning, at which time Praesidium Member Williams again commandeered it, this time for a flight that carried it and him to the Accolade beheading of Professor Dun Higenroth.
The subsequent movements of this flying machine are on record, but are not relevant to the investigation.
It was pointed out by the investigating group that it had no, and had been given no, authority to request the presence of Praesidium Member Williams at its hearings. And that Praesidium Member Williams did not volunteer to attend any meeting of the investigating commission.
Williams (Fourteen) received a copy of the report in his palace office. When he had read it, pale but brave he called Three and said simply, ‘I remember no visit to the rocket field. I presume it happened because Professor Higenroth’s invention is missing. I further deduce that all of us who went to Higenroth’s house that night were hypnotized by some incredibly powerful mechanical means; and that therefore I should leave the palace at once as I may have had other as yet unknown conditioning - perhaps directed against his excellency. I believe that I should not be hastily disposed of, since! may still be useful in the search. I am willing to be hypnotized extensively for the purpose of obtaining full information from my subconscious. Accordingly, I place myself willingly at either your or his excellency’s disposition.’
The voice of Three on the intercom was cool but not unfriendly. ‘I have,’ he said, ‘recorded what you just said. You will be interested to know that it is, in substance, similar to what The Boss said to me after he read the report. My instructions to you are: Do not leave the palace. Do not attend Praesidium meetings. You may go to your office daytimes to conduct your official business, and to your apartment at night. If for any reason your duties require you to be away from the palace, make a request to me and there is already a policy laid down about that. You will be allowed to travel, with permission.’
Three continued, ‘You will be extensively hypnotized with a view to obtaining information from you. Later, when Mrs. Higenroth gives birth to Higenroth’s child, there’s another plan about that which you are to deal with. At the moment the lady is to be hastily wedded to Dr. Glucken, so that he may observe her and question her exhaustively while they are both in the special intimate relation that obtains in the marriage situation. In conclusion …’
He paused; and Fourteen said respectfully, ‘Yes?’
‘It is obvious,’ said Three, ‘that in view of what has happened, great caution must be exercised. But - let me stress this - there are no punitive intentions. On occasion, The Boss will even talk to you on the intercom. If he does so, under no circumstances are you ever to tell anyone, including me, anything he says to you in such private consultations. Is that understood?’
‘Totally.’
Mention of the Higenroth widow had reminded Fourteen of the college students he had transported to Fortress Ten. He brightened as he recalled the fact to Three, and finished, ‘After all, we’ve still got that as an ace in the hole. The data about pervasive theory and practice will also be in their heads.’
There was a pause at the other end of the intercom. The face on the viewplate in Fourteen’s office took on a peculiar expression. Something of the meaning of that look penetrated suddenly to Williams, and with it the realization that he had done it again. Despite his very considerable intelligence, he had once more done his naive thing.
He had - he realized his error too late - believed in the given reason for Accolade beheading: that it was in fact a scientifically proved method of transferring information from one brain to another, or others.
He cringed inwardly as the truth struck at him from the older man’s expression.
Moments later, Jodell (Three) said scathingly, ‘You idiot!’ And broke the connection.
SIX
He was young. Only thirty-one.
Being so, and under pressure, Fourteen kept trying to fit the worthy goal into the reality of the political lying that constantly went on around him.
Like so many others, he could see that remorseless logic had its place. Could see that lies seemed to work better than truth with certain groups of people. Therefore, they were a peculiar truth of their own.
If a man will not be swayed to a good action by the simple truth of, for example, that it was a need, but responds, instead, to a falsehood, then that falsehood is where he is. There is something deep inside him that can be motivated only by very specific symbols.
Accordingly, you must present him with those exact symbols even though, at first, second, third, and so on glance, they appeared to be contrary to the outward appearance of fact; so reasoned Crother Williams, as others had done before him.
I must, he thought, realize that the good end is what counts. The means would have to be whatever they needed to be.
What it amounted to was adjusting hour by hour to the reality of the reign of Lilgin.
So he took away the boy child when it was born to the beautiful Eidy. On the conscious level, at least, she never knew that the child she was given in return had been born minutes earlier to another young woman.
Similarly, when the second mother later came out of the anaesthetic of her birth-giving time, she gazed at what she was told was her own baby, and felt - well, she had no reason to doubt.
It turned out in later years she was never quite as happy with the baby as she had expected to be. Even as she breast fed it for the very first time, she was sort of fidgety and impatient. Yet despite these half-antagonisms, this mother -whose name was Luena Thomas - did go through certain post-birth stereotypes. She decided that she would indeed name the boy Orlo - after someone on her mother’s side of the family.
Eidy thoughtfully named her son (at least she accepted that he was her child) with the extremely non-Higenrothian identity, Heen Glucken, Jr.
Her husband, Dr. Glucken, made no comment as this outright falsehood was perpetrated upon him. In his two marriages he had already learned - it seemed to him - that a woman’s reality operated more smoothly if, like a river in sand, it was allowed to seek its natural channels, however they might meander from a straight course.
Now, thought Williams, how shall I make sure that the doctors and the nurses and other hospital personnel who may, unknown to me, have observed this switch, do not at some later time feel impelled to reveal the facts to an older Orlo Thomas?
(The Heen Glucken, Jr., side of the swindle was of course politically and scientifically of zero importance.)
In this entire affair, the decisive motivation was provided by a single question: Had an unborn baby been programmed with the knowledge of the pervasive system of communication?
If he had, Orlo Thomas would eventually know what the system was, and perhaps even how to utilize it.
There was, of course, a second question: could the information be filched from Orlo for the benefit of society?
While he considered such details, Praesidium Member Crother Williams occupied a suite of rooms at the Gosindian Hospital. Under his direction, a selected few secret police quietly examined the records of the hospital, altered the necessary documents, and probed the backgrounds of the involved doctors and nurses.
It was all pretty grim. Yet Williams actually lay awake at night striving to think of methods whereby everyone would come through the experience with a whole skin.
The transfers began the first day. Apparently casually. Apparently unrelated to anything that had happened. Presumably, the great mass of hospital personnel had no inkling. The hospital was a ten-thousand-bed monstrosity. It had been purposefully selected for the birth of Eidy’s baby because it had the impersonal quality associated with any immense administrative function.
Certain nurses disappeared. Certain doctors were not seen again in their former departments. ‘Where’s Coduna?’ someone would ask. ‘Oh, she’s now over in Building S. A promotion.’ ‘Oh, splendid. I’m delighted for her.’
If only that will work, thought Crother Williams, as he lay in the bed in his private apartment, pretending to be a heart case under intensive care.
Uneasy hours passed. Spying devices had been secretly planted on all the people who were now labelled ‘suspects’. Day after day, recorders picked up every word they spoke; and Williams had a computer listen to the composite result. It was programmed to select out potentially significant dialogues.
He finally had to admire the total lack of really significant conversation. Without exception, the suspects acted as if they had never heard of Eidy Glucken or Luena Thomas.
Finally, carefully, Williams (Fourteen) reviewed exactly how the babies had been switched. He had personally pretended that he was a minor government official checking hospital facilities. All attendant nurses were ordered out of the room where Eidy’s and Luena’s babies were two items of several score newborns.
Fourteen went into the deserted (deserted by adults) room. What he did then he had practised beforehand: he removed the identity tags from each baby, switched them, and then switched babies. Then he stood for a long minute looking at all the bits of humanity. After moments only they began to look alike to him.
Surely, doctors and nurses who saw these tiny beings by the hundreds every week, would not suddenly develop an eidetic memory for one or two baby faces.
All right, Williams thought wearily, I’ve done what I can. To stay any longer would be ridiculous.
Ostensibly, then, he had himself transferred to another hospital. But of course, en route his ambulance was diverted to a more practical destination.
He returned to his quarters in the palace, and made his report, and then advised channels that it was available.
And then he waited, uneasily.
Then the phone rang.
It was the secretary of the false front office he had used while acting as the minor official in the hospital. She reported matter-of-factly that she had been contacted by the tearful wife of the doctor who had attended him while he was a false patient.
The doctor had been accidentally killed by a fall from a tenth storey balcony of, one of the hospital buildings. The secretary concluded, ‘The dead man’s wife feels that you and he got so friendly that she was sure you would want to know.’
‘Thank you,’ said Fourteen automatically, ‘send flowers in my name.’
He hung up, pale.
Murder.
The witnesses to the baby switchover were being killed.
For God’s sake, he thought, why doesn’t he trust me? I could prove to him that those people know nothing.
The ‘he’ and the ‘him’ referred exclusively to his excellency, Martin Lilgin, dictator extraordinary.
It seemed to Fourteen that he had taken the most minute care. And in fact the very nature of the message given by the doctor’s widow showed no suspicion on her part. Her husband had, of course, unfortunately, told her about the minor government official who was investigating the hospital.
That, Fourteen shook his head over - secrecy is almost impossible, he had to agree - if nowhere else, it was transmitted in the privacy of the bedroom.
Presumably, whatever those nurses and those other doctors and hospital administrative staff suspected (the few who knew of the presence of a minor government official ) they would tell it to someone: wife, husband, brother, sister, friend.
Standing there, after disconnecting the instrument, Fourteen thought: They’ll all be killed.
He had on one occasion when he was younger - and accepted Lilgin’s right to rule with the unquestioning faith of a typical young dupe - he had taken the trouble to count how many people were executed in connection with one piece of information that they might have learned.
3823 dead then.
It’s really unnecessary this time. I’ll speak to Three, and have him try to persuade that…
He stopped. The epithet that quivered on the edge of his mind was so obscene, it shocked him. Consciously, then, he cautioned himself: ‘Establishing a new order requires hard actions. People are incorrigible in these early stages, and easily revert to old-style behaviour. The world still swarms with counter-revolutionaries, wreckers, right and left de-viationists, opportunists -‘
The glib phrases by which the regime labelled its potential enemies ran their courses through his mind, as he went out into the corridor, and down a palace elevator, and along another vast hallway to Three’s office.
He found Jodell in his office; and his entrance was a surprise; for the man looked up from a document he had been reading, and for a few moments he was blank.
Fourteen said, ‘I’m beginning to think I misunderstood the instructions you gave me.’
‘Instructions?’ echoed Three. ,
Tt is possible I should report to you on the case I was assigned.’
Suddenly, then, blankness ended.
The older man rose hastily. ‘No, no,’ he said sharply, ‘Not one word. This is between you and The Leader.’
‘It’s really quite simple,’ the other went on. ‘I -‘
‘Stop it! screeched Number Three. He put his hands over his ears. ‘Are you out of your mind? Not another word from you.’
The reaction was fantastic now. The man’s eyes were wild, his face twisted; he kept trying to control himself, but it was a hideous failure.
Williams backed away. ‘Okay, okay,’ he said, ‘you’ve convinced me. I gather that there are no intermediate channels on this, and I promise you it will not happen again.’
