Give Me Liberty Part 20

left wall of the building. I know there's no one there."

"I'm all in favor, Rad," said the old man, "of letting him live his life. But he was the prime mover of the crowd outside. I think he should be discouraged."

"We'll advertise his presence," said Rad. "He'll spend the rest of his life denying the charge."

Fara's confidence in the gun had faded so far that, as he listened in puzzled uneasiness to the incomprehensible conversation, he forgot it completely. He parted his lips, but before he could speak,

the old man cut in, persistently, "I think a little emotion might have a long-run effect. Show him the palace."

Palace! The startling word tore Fara out of his brief paralysis. "See here," he began, "I can see now that

you lied to me. This gun isn't loaded at all. It's-"His voice failed him. Every muscle in his body went rigid. He stared like a madman. There was no gun in his hands.

"Why, you-" he began wildly. And stopped again. His mind heaved with imbalance. With a terrible effort he fought off the spinning sensation, thought finally, tremblingly: Somebody must have sneaked the gun from him. That meant-there was someone behind him. The voice was no mechanical thing.

Somehow, they had-

He started to turn-and couldn't. What in the name of- He struggled, pushing with his muscles. And

couldn't move, couldn't budge, couldn't even- The room was growing curiously dark. He had difficulty seeing the old man and- He would have shrieked then if he could. Because the weapon shop was gone. He was-

He was standing in the sky above an immense city.

In the sky, and nothing beneath him, nothing around him but air, and blue summer heaven, and the city a mile, two miles below.

Nothing, nothing- He would have shrieked, but his breath seemed solidly embedded in his lungs.

Sanity came back as the remote awareness impinged upon his terrified mind that he was actually

standing on a hard floor, and that the city must be a picture somehow focused directly into his eyes.

For the first time, with a start, Fara recognized the metropolis below. It was the city of dreams, Imperial City, capital of the glorious Empress Isher- From his great height, he could see the gardens, the gorgeous grounds of the silver palace, the official Imperial residence itself-

The last tendrils of his fear were fading now before a gathering fascination and wonder; they vanished utterly as he recognized with a ghastly thrill of uncertain expectancy that the palace was drawing nearer at great speed.

"Show him the palace," they had said. Did that mean, could it mean-

That spray of tense thoughts splattered into nonexistence, as the glittering roof flashed straight at his face. He gulped, as the solid metal of it pa.s.sed through him, and then other walls and ceilings.

His first sense of imminent and mind-shaking desecration came as the picture paused in a great room

where a score of men sat around a table at the head of which sat-a young woman.

The inexorable, sacrilegious, limitlessly powered cameras that were taking the picture swung across the table, and caught the woman full face.

It was a handsome face, but there was pa.s.sion and fury twisting it now, and a very blaze of fire in her

eyes, as she leaned forward, and said in a voice at once familiar-how often Fara had heard its calm, measured tones on the telestats-and distorted. Utterly distorted by anger and an insolent certainty of command. That caricature of a beloved voice slashed across the silence as clearly as if he, Fara, was there in that room: "I want that skunk killed, do you understand? I don't care how you do it, but I want to hear by tomorrow night that he's dead."

The picture snapped off and instantly-it was as swift as that-Fara was back in the weapon shop. He

stood for a moment, swaying, fighting to accustom his eyes to the dimness; and then- His first emotion was contempt at the simpleness of the trickery-a motion picture. What kind of a fool did they think he was, to swallow something as transparently unreal as that? He'd-

Abruptly, the appalling lechery of the scheme, the indescribable wickedness of what was being

attempted here brought red rage.

"Why, you sc.u.m!" he flared. "So you've got somebody to act the part of the empress, trying to pretend that- Why, you-"

"That will do," said the voice of Rad; and Fara shook as a big young man walked into his line of vision.

The alarmed thought came that people who would besmirch so vilely the character of her imperial majesty would not hesitate to do physical damage to Fara Clark. The young man went on in a steely tone, "We do not pretend that what you saw was taking place this instant in the palace. That would be too much of a coincidence. But it was taken two weeks ago; the woman is the empress. The man whose death she ordered is one of her many former lovers. He was found murdered two weeks ago; his name, if you care to look it up in the new files, is Banton McCreddie. However, let that pa.s.s. We're finished with you now and-"

"But I'm not finished," Fara said in a thick voice. "I've never heard or seen so much infamy in all my life. If you think this town is through with you, you're crazy. We'll have a guard on this place day and night, and n.o.body will get in or out. We'll-"

"That will do." It was the silver-haired man; and Fara stopped out of respect for age, before he thought.

The old man went on: "The examination has been most interesting. As an honest man, you may call on us if you are ever in trouble. That is all. Leave through the side door."

It was all. Impalpable forces grabbed him, and he was shoved at a door that appeared miraculously in the

wall, where seconds before the palace had been.

He found himself standing dazedly in a flower bed, and there was a swarm of men to his left. He recognized his fellow townsmen and that he was-outside.

The incredible nightmare was over.

* * * "Where's the gun?" said Creel, as he entered the house half an hour later. "The gun?" Fara stared at his wife. "It said over the radio a few minutes ago that you were the first customer of the new weapon shop. I thought it was queer, but-"

He was eerily conscious of her voice going on for several words longer, but it was the purest jumble.

The shock was so great that he had the horrible sensation of being on the edge of an abyss.

So that was what the young man had meant: "Advertise! We'll advertise his presence and-"

Fara thought: His reputation! Not that his was a great name, but he had long believed with a quiet pride

that Fara Clark's motor repair shop was widely known in the community and countryside.

First, his private humiliation inside the shop. And now this-lying-to people who didn't know why he had gone into the store. Diabolical.

His paralysis ended, as a frantic determination to rectify the base charge drove him to the telestat. After

a moment, the plump, sleepy face of Mayor Mel Dale appeared on the plate. Fara's voice made a barrage of sound, but his hopes dashed, as the man said, "I'm sorry, Fara. I don't see how you can have free time on the telestat. You'll have to pay for it. They did."

"They did!" Fara wondered vaguely if he sounded as empty as he felt.

"And they've just paid Lan Harris for his lot. The old man asked top price, and got it. He just phoned me to transfer the t.i.tle."

"Oh!" The world was shattering. "You mean n.o.body's going to do anything. What about the Imperial

garrison at Ferd?"

Dimly, Fara was aware of the mayor mumbling something about the empress' soldiers refusing to interfere in civilian matters.

"Civilian matters!" Fara exploded. "You mean these people are just going to be allowed to come here

whether we want them or not, illegally forcing the sale of lots by first taking possession of them?"

A sudden thought struck him breathless. "Look, you haven't changed your mind about having Jor keep guard in front of the shop?"

With a start, he saw that the plump face in the telestat plate had grown impatient "Now, see here, Fara,"

came the pompous words, "let the const.i.tuted authorities handle this matter."

"But you're going to keep Jor there," Fara said doggedly.

The mayor looked annoyed, said finally peevishly: "I promised, didn't I? So he'll be there. And now-do you want to buy time on the telestat? It's fifteen credits for one minute. Mind you, as a friend, I think you're wasting your money. No one has ever caught up with a false statement."

Fara said grimly, "Put two on, one in the morning, one in the evening."

"All right. We'll deny it completely. Good night."