Cascade Point and Other Stories Part 26

Afterword.

This was my first real foray into the world of business and finance; and as far as I'm concerned, those already in the field can have it. I'll take wading through lunar maps and the physics of black holes any day.

The job lottery idea itself came out of a long discussion of such matters with a friend, after which I sat down and hammered at the logic, cash flow, and loopholes until I got to the system you've just read about.

Would it work? I don't know. Though I don't see any flaws, of course (or I would have corrected them before sending the story out in the first place), I've never had an expert in such arcana take it apart for me. Even if it would work, I suspect it would be impossible to actually get there from here.

For which-I'm sure-we can all bow our heads in silent thanks.

Teamwork

The hospital bed was uncomfortably hard, with a lump that poked into his lower back no matter how much he squirmed. Not that he could squirm far, of course; the straps across his chest and legs were quite adequate to their task.

Staring at the ceiling, tracing imaginary patterns among the holes in the acoustic tile there, he tried to shut out the gurgling sounds from the next bed. The gurgling he hated even more than the crying and laughing.

"Mr. Charles Bissey?"

New voices weren't common here. Lowering his gaze, he focused on the two men at the foot of his bed. One was Dr. Housman, who often appeared in his nightmares these days. The other, standing rather stiffly, was a stranger in a military-type uniform. "Yes," he acknowledged. "Who are you?"

"My name is Colonel Lee, Charles," the stranger said. "We need your help."

Charles glanced at Dr. Housman and sighed. "Sure you do. What is this, Doctor, another of your tests?""It's no test, Charles," Housman shook his head. "Please listen to the colonel.

This is deadly serious."

"Charles," Lee said, "have you ever heard of the San Bernadino Dome?"

"I'm allowed to read newspapers," Charles told him mildly. "It showed up one night a week ago in a shopping center parking lot. The newspapers think it may be the start of a s.p.a.ce invasion."

"Right, although the invasion angle is pure speculation at this point." Lee seemed to be relaxing a bit now. Doubtless he was relieved to find Charles wasn't a raving madman. "But we believe the dome to be a threat in other ways. We'd like you to help us destroy it."

"Suicide mission?" Charles asked. Not that it really mattered.

Lee shook his head. "We hope not. But it will be dangerous."

"Why should I help you? What do I get out of this?"

He was prepared for a lecture on patriotism, and Housman's words were therefore a surprise. "Perhaps," the doctor said quietly, "you'll have your dream."

Charles stared hard at him. So many times he'd hoped... so many times had watched it all crumble. But he had little else to live for. "I accept," he said.

The preliminary psychomedical work took two days. Charles was in hypnotic sleep a good portion of that time, but it was a strangely exhausting sleep, and he hoped he'd have a chance to rest after it was over. But Colonel Lee was apparently in a hurry, and within an hour he had called a mission orientation meeting.

"Good day to you all," Lee nodded as he strode into the room. "I know you're tired, so I'll make this brief." He touched a switch on the console next to his chair and a picture of a huge gray hemisphere appeared on the room's screen. Behind it could be seen a long building with several different business signs, as well as a section of a city street, all looking like it had been in a war. No people were in sight anywhere.

"The San Bernadino Dome," Lee said. "Thirty meters high at the center, ninety meters across at the base. Completely impervious to everything we've tried against it. Even the best ant.i.tank missiles don't do so much as scratch the surface."

"How about atomic weapons?" Arthur asked.

"We haven't tried anything that drastic yet, but all the extrapolations indicate that even that wouldn't do any good from the outside. From the inside, though...

possibly.""Wait a minute," Frank growled. "You're not gonna send us into that thing, are ya?"

"We could get hurt!" Dennis piped up.

"Hold it, hold it," Lee said, raising a hand for order. "Getting into the dome shouldn't be physically dangerous. There are already nearly a hundred people inside, by our estimates."

"What do you mean, not physically dangerous?" Susan asked in her prim alto.

"What kind of dangerous is it?"

Lee took a deep breath. "Well... it seems that the dome is surrounded by a sort of... effect, I guess you could call it. Everyone who's gone inside a certain distance drops whatever else he's doing and heads straight for this door." He indicated a black triangle on the dome. "We've tried sending people just over the edge of the effect and then hauling them back with ropes, and once they're back outside they're okay again. They report a tremendous compulsion to get into the dome, but no idea why they were wanted. Our experts say the effect resembles a strong hypnosis, but they have no idea how the order was implanted. What happens inside is anyone's guess; all we know is that the agents we sent in with bombs apparently never triggered them. Yes, Charles?"

Charles spoke up hesitantly, still shy in the presence of the others. He'd met them barely three hours earlier, and his natural bashfulness with strangers made his tongue feel awkward. "I take it, Colonel, that you think we can get past this conditioning?"

"Of course he thinks that, dummy," Arthur snapped. "Why else would we be here?"

"Actually, we don't expect all of you to get through untouched," Lee said quickly, perhaps seeing Charles's blush. "Frankly, we'll be happy if any one of you can get in with enough control left to carry out the mission. We really don't know what will happen to you since-well-"

"Since everyone else who's gone in has been perfectly sane?" Charles suggested.

"Now, Charles, don't pick on the colonel," Susan admonished.

Lee spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "I know it sounds cruel and manipulative, but yes, that's precisely why we recruited you. The hypnosis isn't perfect; it has limitations-"

"How do you know?" Arthur spoke up quickly.

"Because on that first morning people were dribbling into the dome in ones and twos until we set off the sirens; after that there was a general rush. From that we gather the hypnosis wasn't strong enough to wake people up or make them walk in their sleep. People like you, we hope, will also be outside the thing's capabilities. The experimental technique that set you up with your new pseudotelepathic intercommunication may help, too-spread the effect around or something."

"Or maybe it won't," Frank said. "If y'ask me, this is a whole lotta work for nothin'. The door to the thing's open, right? So toss in a nuke and get it over with."

"Frank!" Susan was aghast. "There are a hundred people in there. Not to mention whoever was there to begin with."

"So what?"

"Actually," Lee said, "we couldn't do that even if the dome were empty.

There's an airlock sort of arrangement that seems to be made of the same material as the dome. As an absolute last resort, we might try sending in a volunteer with an activated time bomb. But even if that worked-which isn't at all certain-it would mean sacrificing anybody who may still be alive in there." He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "Anyway, the high-level decision was made to give you a chance first."

"That's all well and good, Colonel," Susan said, "but I, for one, want to know why you want so badly to destroy this artifact. It doesn't seem to be doing anything threatening, so as long as you keep people away from it, what's the trouble? Death and destruction are easy, I suppose, but they're so final."

"The trouble," Lee answered, "is that, whatever the owners of the dome want with the people they've grabbed, they've decided they want more... and since we've evacuated the whole area they can't get them. So they're expanding their compulsion-effect field. The thing's pushed another hundred meters out in the past four days and shows no signs of stopping."

There was a long moment of silence. "Well," Lee said at last, "if there are no more questions or comments, I'll let you get some rest. You'll start a couple of days of saboteur training tomorrow morning. Good-bye for now."

The next two days were frantic, filled with intensive studies. Charles had always envied people who could a.s.similate knowledge quickly, and was more than a little surprised that he was actually able to keep up. He became adept at putting together the tiny nuclear bomb the team would be taking into the dome, and discovered that he had a distinct apt.i.tude for solving logic problems. Though little time had been specifically set aside for the members of the team to get to know each other, Charles found himself becoming more relaxed in their company as they worked and learned together. He didn't consider them friends, of course-true friendships had been few and far between for him-but he no longer feared them as enemies, either. On the whole, that was already more than he'd hoped for.

All too soon, it was time. A midnight plane ride-with Dennis gurgling excitedly at the stars overhead-and a short drive brought the team to a line of grim-faced soldiers patrolling the deserted San Bernadino streets. A major pointed the way and offered good luck.

The first twenty steps were the hardest, at least for Charles. He felt as if he were walking through a mine field: never knowing when it would happen; wondering if it would hurt or not; almost hurrying so as to get it over with.

Compulsively, he found himself counting the steps: nineteen, twenty, twenty- one- And with the suddenness of a light switch a red haze seemed to drop over his vision, and all thoughts fled before the overpowering desire to get into the dome.

He broke into a run, dimly aware of the others but incapable of taking the slightest interest in them. The buildings around him were gray fog; but as he rounded one last corner a burst of color a.s.saulted his senses. It was the dome, as bright and eye- catching as the finest sunset he'd ever seen and utterly irresistible. The triangular entrance beckoned; lowering his head he increased his speed. Ninety seconds later, he was inside.

"Well," Arthur said aloud, his words coming in short bursts as his wind slowly returned, "that was... quite a race. Everyone... okay?"

"Yeah," Frank said.

"I feel fine," Susan replied. "Dennis?"

"Wow! These roofs are really high," Dennis chirped, oblivious to the others'

conversation. "Can we go up there?"

"Ceilings, kid, not roofs," Frank growled. "Let's get movin' before someone comes along, huh?"

"Can we go up there?" Dennis repeated, more insistent this time.

"Not just now," Arthur said. The catwalks twenty feet above them were far too high for his taste. "Maybe later." He looked back down quickly and glanced around the room they'd wound up in. The walls were lined with pipes and strangely shaped machinery, but he could see what looked like a pair of doors in the far wall. "Looks like that's the way deeper in," he said.

"Wait a minute," Susan cut in. "Charles? Charles, are you okay?"

"I... I think they got me," Charles murmured. "I'm sorry."

"d.a.m.n!" Frank growled.

"Okay, relax," Arthur said, trying to keep his excitement from showing. He could be leader now! "Are you going to be fighting us, Charles, or are you just going to be deadweight from now on?""I don't know. I don't feel like shouting out the truth or anything. I just feel like doing what... I guess it's what they told me to do when we came in."

"Well, that'll do for now, I suppose. If it changes, let me know fast and we'll either sit on you or try to work around your conditioning. Now, what exactly-"

"Wait a second," Frank cut in. "Who died and left you in charge?"

"This is the pecking order Lee gave us, remember?" Arthur said. "Charles first, then me. Then you."

"Yeah, but-"

"Then it's settled. Dennis, stop that whimpering."

"Is Charles sick?" Dennis asked anxiously, his voice trembling.

"Oh, for-Susan, explain it to him, will you? We've got to get moving.

Charles, what exactly did they tell you to do?"

"I'm supposed to go through the left door up there, down a corridor, right at the second cross-corridor-"

"Hold it," Arthur interrupted. "Does all this take us further in or just around the edge of the dome?"

"Uh... I think all the way to the center."

"Then let's just go. What happens when we get to the center?"

"I'll be helping to put together some kind of machine."

The door opened into a narrow corridor. Glancing up, Arthur noted that the catwalks from the room extended over the corridor as well, pa.s.sing through the six-foot gap between the tops of the walls and the arched ceiling. Would there be guards posted up there?

"This doesn't make any sense at all," Susan complained as they started down the corridor. "Why should the creatures who live in here need people to help build their machines?"

"Maybe they don't know how," Dennis suggested.

"Then how's Charles supposed to figure it out?" Frank snorted. "More likely they're all dead."

"Dead?" Susan sounded appalled.

"Or else never here," Arthur mused. "I didn't notice any effort to filter the air at the entrance. What kind of alien would be stupid enough to risk breathing our germs?"

"Then who's running this thing?" Frank argued. "Some kind of computer?"

"Why not?"

"Because whoever built it should have made sure it could repair itself," Susan said.

"d.a.m.n it, Susan, lemme handle my own fights," Frank snapped.

"Don't you swear at me" she returned icily.

"All right, everyone, take it easy," Arthur put in, desperately trying to hold things together. "Looks like we're coming into a main room up here. Everybody stay alert and look for a good place to plant the bomb."

The final door opened, and the sight behind it silenced even Frank. The room was huge-covering perhaps a quarter of the dome's floor area-and stocked with a bewildering collection of machines and what could only be the aliens' equivalent of electronic equipment. The other trapped humans were there, too, working at various tasks with a diligence uncomfortably reminiscent of ants. There was no talking or other obvious communication; it wasn't even clear whether the laborers were aware of each other's presence. And in the center of the room- A miniature version of the dome itself.

Dennis was the first to say anything. "Wow! This is neat!"

"What the h.e.l.l is this?" Frank asked, bewilderment in his voice. "Some kinda Chinese puzzle box?"

"You're thinking of Russian dolls, I think," Arthur corrected absently. "I don't think there are more than just these two, though-that little one's barely twenty feet tall; I'd guess."

"They're certainly paying a lot of attention to it," Susan pointed out.

Even as she spoke, a group of five people left one of the machines carrying a small device they had apparently been building there. Maneuvering it carefully, they worked it through the outsized triangular door of the smaller dome and disappeared inside.

"Wonder what that was," Arthur muttered.