Subspace Explorers Part 16

Then the big man, working deftly despite his heavy gloves, lifted the girl's locket and cut its chain with a heavy angle-nose cutter. He then twitched the band from her head, tied the locket to the band with the chain, and threw the bundle, in a high are, out and away. When it came down there was a flare of greenish brilliance brighter than the sun, the white glare of a small pool of incandescent lava, and after a few seconds, the odor of volatilized rock.

"So?" the girl asked, quietly. "So there goes a bit of Company power. But you... Oh!" She broke off sharply as she saw the smaller man touching the aircar here and there with the looped end of a heavy wire held in one gloved hand. "Oh? High resistance? How high?"

"One point two five megohms," the big man said. "We have no intention whatever of doing you-any harm whatever."

"You know, some way or other, I've rather gathered that?" and she extended a beautifully-shaped bare arm for the wire's touch. A minute later, while both men were shedding their insulation, she spoke again. "You're going to give me some explanation of all this, I suppose?"

"We are indeed, Miss Acey Bee-ay, as soon as we get to where we're going and your friend joins us. It's altogether too long and too deep and too involved to go into twice for the two of you. We'll take off now."

The aircar went straight up to twelve thousand feet, then hurtled north northeast at its top speed. It held course and speed for over three hours. It crossed mountain ranges, lakes, forests, and rivers. Finally, however, it slanted sharply downward, slowed, stopped, and descended vertically into a canyon-a creva.s.se, rather but little wider than the car was long and half a mile deep.

It landed near a man wearing a greenish-gray uniform, who had a sidearm in a holster at his hip. This guard saluted crisply and put his hand against a slight projection of the rock, whereupon a section of the canyon's wall swung inward, revealing a long, straight, brightly lighted tunnel. The three got out of the car and the guard stepped aside, drawing his weapon as he did so. "As usual," the big man told the guard. "It's harmless and its transmitters have been cut. You won't need the artillery." He glanced quizzically at the girl. "Will he'?" "No," she said, flatly. "I know that you can handle me alone. You know as much judo as I do and you're a lot bigger."

"Excellent) In, then. It's about a mile. We walk."

The three walked into and along the tunnel; with the girl, under no restraint, between the two men.

After walking the indicated mile they came to what looked like-and in fact was-the entrance to a thoroughly modern building. They went in and the big man, after dismissing his smaller companion, ushered the girl into a small, plainly-furnished office.

"They aren't here yet, I see. Take a chair, please." He sat down behind the desk. "We'll wait here; it won't be very long."

Nor was it. In about fifteen minutes the door opened and three gray-uniformed men, one of them pushing a wheeled chair, entered the office. Beedy, without headband or locket, was chained to the chair. His uniform was tom off, both eyes would soon be black-and-blue "shiners," and his flesh was puffy and bruised, but he was still full of fight. When he saw the girl, however, he stopped struggling instantly and stopped her with a word as she leaped to her feet, screamed, and ran toward him.

"If you'd used your brain, meathead," he said, glaring between swollen lids at the man behind the desk, "and told your gorillas to tell me you had her here, it would've saved all five of us some lumps."

"Well, I can't think of everything," the big man admitted. "I did tell her we had you, come to think of it, which perhaps accounts for her cooperation." He studied his three men. The smallest one of them was of B D's size, but each of the three bore more marks of battle than did the captive. "I was not informed that you are such an expert at unarmed combat. Free him, you, and get out. With the chair."

"Free him?" one of the captors protested. "Why, he'll..." and one of the others broke, in: "But he d.a.m.n near killed Big Pietr, boss-they're taking him up to sick-bay now, and..."

"You heard me," the boss said, without raising his voice a fraction of a decibel, and the three obeyed.

As the door closed, the two went into each other's arms, the girl moaning over her lover's wounds.

"It's all right, now that I know you aren't hurt. You aren't, are you?"

No, not the least bit, in any way," she a.s.sured him. "But they hurt you, and if you think..."

"Hush, sweetheart, listen. I got more of them than they did of me, so, with you here safe, if they won't carry a grudge I won't." He c.o.c.ked a blood-clotted eyebrow-with a slight wince-at the man behind the desk. "No grudge, I take it?"

"Splendid? No grudge at all."

B D turned to B A. "Wasn't this in your hunch?" he asked.

"Your getting all beat up certainly wasn't, but the rest of it... well, I guess it could fit the pattern... but don't try to tell me it was that clear in yours, either!"

"I won't; but it does fit the pattern."

"You two are far and away the best we've found yet," the man at the desk said then. "Since I'm going to be your instructor, you may as well start calling me Basil." "Bay-sill? That doesn't make sense," the girl said.

"It's my name. We don't use symbols-I'll go into that later. You are beginning to realize that your knowledge and experience have left you almost entirely ignorant of man, of nature, and of the cosmos. Exposure to that knowledge will be such a shock to your minds that you will feel much better together than apart. To that end, would you like to be married-'mate,' is your word for it-immediately?"

"But we can't," the girl said. "Not for half a year yet" "Sure we can, and we will," B D said. "My hunch is that the Company is getting the flame..." He hesitated slightly and shivered, but went on doggedly, "and that you have already captured at least twelve other Company Agents without getting flamed yourselves. Is that right, Bay-sill?"

"Very pleasingly right. Twenty, so far, have been able to withstand the impact of the truth and remain sane... but none of them are anything like in your cla.s.s... you must both be mals."

He glanced at them questioningly, but neither made any response and he went on. "If so, I hope to persuade you to help us look for others like you. Now, before I take you upstairs to the sick-bay and thence to your suite, where you will find clothing and so on, I am going to give you some of the basic elements of the truth. I shall give them to you brutally straight. You will be shocked as you have never believed it possible to be shocked. You will not be able to understand any part of it at first, but you must not ask me any questions until tomorrow morning, when I will begin instructing you in detail. By that time you will have given the matter sufficient thought so that you will be able to ask intelligent questions. You wish to marry each other, you said?"

"We certainly do!"

"Splendid! You can make decisions, as well as think. I have very high hopes indeed of you two. After the short visits I mentioned I will arrange for your wedding. Then, if you wish, you may dine and retire to your suite until eight hours tomorrow.

"Now for your first introduction to the truth. This world is not the only world in existence and you people -you upper echelons are just as much people as those you call People-are not the only people. There are thousands of millions of other worlds, more or less like this one, throughout an immensity of s.p.a.ce so vast as to be beyond imagining. There are thousands of millions of human beings-members of the human race, to which both you and we belong inhabiting many of those worlds. One such world, my native planet Earth, has a population of almost seven thousand million people. "Your concept of the Company is completely false. There are hundreds of thousands of companies, each a self-perpetuating group of men. Not supermen in any sense, but ordinary men like me. Your company was and is only one of the mult.i.tude of companies of Earth. It was founded by and is still operated by a group of greedy, utterly callous capitalists-money men-of Earth. It was founded and is being operated specifically as a world of slave labor. Every person born on this world is a slave; a slave without freedom, liberty, or personal rights of any kind.

"We, on the other hand, represent a society of worlds of freedom-loving people. We have come here to liberate all the inhabitants of this world from slavery; to enable you to take your rightful place-and that place is yours by right-in the fellowship of all the civilized worlds. Our creed, the creed of all free peoples everywhere, is this: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.

"These things I have told you, young friends, are fundamental. They are basic. They are absolutely necessary prerequisites for any learning of the truth; so think them over very carefully until tomorrow morning.

"When your instruction is complete, I am sure that you will be glad to work side by side with us to unite your world with our society-The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics."

Chapter 19 DOUBLE AGENT.

Back on Earth, affairs political and financial moved so fast and in such quant.i.ty that Upton Maynard had more work on his hands than any one man could possibly do. He had to sleep five or six hours almost every night. Also, he could handle those Tellurian affairs much better if he were there in person-especially if he could drop GalMet entirely for a while-and why not? Young Smith had plenty of jets... wherefore he called Smith and Miss Champion into his inner office.

"Miss Champion, take notes, please. Mr. Eldon Jay Smith I believe, the Executive Vice-President of Galactic Metals, Incorporated?"

"That is precisely what I have the honor and privilege of being, sir." Smith put his right hand over his heart and bowed. "As of the present moment, sir; that is, sir, I mean, sir."

"You'll start executing as of the present moment, sir," and Maynard told him what he had in mind, concluding, "So sit on the throne, hub, 'til I get back-and don't let the block line drop down through the bottom of the chart."

"Drop? You kidding? Now we can get something done -it'll zoom right up through the top. How about it, Dorry?" He winked at Miss Champion, who, always the perfect First Secretary-always, that is, in Maynard's presence-did not wink back. She merely smiled.

"But suppose I take her along?"

"Go ahead. Do that. Wreck the outfit. I've been wanting to quit and go fishing, anyway."

"Yeah. I know. I know just what I'd be wrecking anyway, I'd bet on the fish. 'Bye, Don; 'bye, Doris," and Maynard strode blithely out.

The girl gave Smith a long, level look. "You're the only human being alive with the sublime nerve to give him the needle that way. Just suppose he climbs your frame for it some day?"

"He set the pace, didn't he? Anyway, I'd get along." "Pfooie! n.o.body could blast you out of here with an atomic bomb and everybody knows it. You really know him don't you? I've always thought I was the only one who did."

"I know he's the universe's best-and that these d.a.m.ned yes-men and toadies around here make him just as sicka da bel' as they do me-and that's a great G.o.d's plenty."

"That's what I meant, Don... and you're not too bad a stinker yourself, in some ways." For weeks, ever since they had become psionic, a current of something-like electricity plus-had been flowing between these two, and it was getting stronger all the time.

"Thanks for them kind words, Dorry. You're slipping. First thing you know you'll..."

"I'm not slipping and whatever it was you were going to say, I won't. No telepathy, no rapport. I've been a career business woman ever since I was fifteen-a good one-and I'm going to keep on being just that."

He smiled; more a grin than a smile. "That's the way to talk, Dorry. Strictly business. If there's any one thing in this wide fat world I really love, it's business."

"Let's get at it, then." Miss Champion, now all briskly efficient FirSec, picked up her book. "I'll remind you, Mister Smith, that you are wasting time that is costing the company a dollar a minute. In exactly four and one half minutes you have an appointment with Felton of Barbizon about. enlarging the operation there; at nine plus forty five with Quisenberry of Belmark, ditto; at ten plus ten with Andersen of Pharmics..."

Maynard landed on Earth at Chicago s.p.a.ceport. He took a copter to the big old building on Michigan Avenue that was GalFed's headquarters. Stevens Spehn's office was on the twenty sixth floor, in front, affording a splendid view of Lake Michigan-all water clear out to the horizon.

Having sent a thought ahead, Maynard strode straight through the main office and the FirSec's office. That smart girl, who of course listened in on everything, even -or especially?-on thought, merely glanced up with a smile from the tape she was reading and exchanged greetings in thought with him as he went past.

Spehn's office, vastly unlike his previous one, was small and plainly furnished. Even his desk was small; he could, with a little stretching, reach anything on its plate-gla.s.s top. He was leaning 'way back in his swivel chair, with both feet perched up on the corner of his desk. When Maynard came in Spehn pointed his cigarette at a huge overstuffed chair near the desk, but facing the huge front window. Maynard sat down, lighted a long, thin cigar, crossed his legs, and spoke aloud. "So you're rolling, Steve. So you like your PsiCor, eh?"

"Oh, brother!" Spehn got up, walked around to the older man, shook him solemnly by the hand, and resumed seat and pose. Then: "Oh... broth... therr! One hundred percent convictions so far and not a possible miss in sight. Psionic Intelligence agents are things that... well, maybe some cloak-and-dagger men have dreamed about such things, hut we've got 'em. Over ten thousand already and more coming and they're all batting a thousand, Boss, the Big Brains claim that while ethics is related to psionics, ethics is not and cannot be made an absolute. Do you buy that?"

"In the abstract, as a generalization, yes. In practice, and in the specific case of our own culture as it now is, perhaps not. I might almost say probably not."

"Very, very cautious about going out on a limb, aren't you? So bite yourself off a piece of this and chew on it and give your taste-buds a treat. The opposition hasn't got any psiontists worth a tinker's toot and never will have any."

Maynard did not question this statement. All experience had shown that any psychics of much ability, immediately upon perceiving the vastnesses of psionics, went to Newmars and the University of Psionics as a matter of course. Spehn went on: "It's a truly wonderful thing to know, for certain d.a.m.n sure, everything that goes on. So we're steam-rolling 'em to the queen's own taste. This next election will be honest; the kind of election the Founding Fathers had in mind. GalFed should be in the saddle shortly after that. Of course there'll be some fuss, but Guerd should be ready by then. You're sticking around?"

Maynard nodded. "Longer than that, Stev. Until GalFed is, both in name and in fact, THE GALACTIC FEDERATION; until Tellus-a united Tellus-is both in name and in fact the capital of all civilization."

Spehn thought for a moment. "That's a big order, boss, but I wouldn't wonder if we might be able to deliver the goods."

After half an hour more of discussion, Maynard went up one floor and had a long discussion with Fleet Admiral Guerdon Dann.

He then tuned his mind to that of Li Hing Wong, who brought Feodr Ilyowicz in for a three-way. Things were going as well as was to be expected. The Iron Curtain and the Bamboo Curtain, which had faced outward, had been replaced by Psionic Curtains facing inward. Since the fleet englobing Earth, whatever it really was, did not seem to care what happened to either Russia or China, there had not been very much effective opposition. People were dying, but that couldn't be helped. The only way progress could be made was by killing off the commissars and the warlords and all such corruptionists; and, since corruption had been the way of life for centuries, reclamation would necessarily be a slow process.

As each district was reclaimed and put under a psionic Peace-lord its people were given as much self-government as they could handle-which wasn't very much. They would have to grow up to self-government, and that would take a low; time. If famine and pestilence did not take care of the population problem, population control would; by birth-control and logic if possible, by sterilization if necessary.

It was not a cheerful report; but Maynard had not expected it to be. He shrugged his shoulders and went on to interview every one of the men and women who were handling the political campaign. Then, last of all, he turned his attention to the financiers who were operating in the stock market.

The Plastics Building, in Chicago, Illinois, WestHem, Tellus, occupied the entire eight hundred block west; bounded by Halsted and Peoria Streets on the east and west, and by Washington and Randolph Boulevards on the south and north. Its main bulk, built of steel-reenforced synthetics of various kinds, was eighty five stories high, and a comparatively slender tower reached up fifteen stories higher still. This tower housed the private offices of the Biggest of the Big of Plastics, Incorporated; and its entire top floor, the one hundredth of the building, was devoted to the series of exceedingly private offices, in ascending order of privacy from the private elevator, of the least accessible man on Earth-President Byron Punsunby himself.

To say that these offices were sumptuous is to make the understatement of the year, but that is all that will be said. At three o'clock one Wednesday afternoon, while President Punsunby was sitting at his most sumptuous desk, alone in his most sumptuous, most private office, clear across the tower from the elevator, a call came in on a communicator that was his alone, in a mish-mash of noise and herringbone that he alone could unscramble. He stared at it angrily for a few seconds; his big, fat body tensing, his big, fat face stiffening, and his small blue eyes growing even harder than their hard wont.

He'd been getting altogether too d.a.m.ned many calls on that com of late and he hadn't liked any one of them. And this was the worst. It wasn't subs.p.a.ce, or even long distance; it was local-and this was one purely sweet-scented h.e.l.l of a time for him to have to leave Earth... why couldn't the ape handle a few things himself?

He unscrambled the mish-mash; Erskine Cantwell, the Comptroller General of The World, appeared. "Where are you?" Punsunby snapped. "s.p.a.ceport?" "Yes. Just landing."

"Come in. I'll be alone."

Cantwell did not enter the Plastics Building by any of the usual routes. He approached it via subway, opened an almost invisible door into the second subbas.e.m.e.nt, walked along a deserted hall, opened a completely invisible door by speaking a series of six coined words, and took the ultra-secret elevator straight up into Punsunby's ultra-private office.

"Well?" Punsunby demanded, savagely. "I told you to take whatever steps might prove necessary. Why the h.e.l.l didn't you do it, instead of coming here again?"

"What do you think?" Cantwell sneered. "That I'm here for the fun of it? I'm only the Highest Agent, remember? Six A's and a B, with only a violet headlight. It takes the one and only discarnate G.o.d Himself-the one and only holder of seven straight A's-the All-Powerful and Eternal-the one and only being able to pour the pure mercury-vapor light of G.o.d onto his poor dumb creatures-you, you fat-head, are the only living human being who can modify Article Ninety of your precious Second Directive, and by all the devils in h.e.l.l you..."

"Christ almighty!" Punsunby broke in. He had been turning not-so-slowly purple as he listened to this lesemajeste, but at the words "Second Directive" his face began to pale. "But that's the basis of the whole caste system-it's never been modified. Things can't be that bad, Ersk-there must be some other way of handling this trouble."

"It's exactly that bad, and if you can find any other way to clean up the mess I'll roll a peanut from here to Buckingham Fountain with my nose. And I've had it. You can take this..."

"Don't say it, Ersk." Punsunby got up, walked around the desk, and put a big hand on the slender man's shoulder. "We couldn't operate without you. But such a change as that... G.o.d knows where a thing like that would end."

"You're so right. That's the trouble with any rigid system," Cantwell said, much more calmly. "When it starts to crack it's apt to shatter. But that's the way you Tops have always wanted it, so you're stuck with it. So let's get at it."

"All right. I'll have to make a couple of calls."

There was no more talk of business until they were in SUITE ONE of the subs.p.a.cer. Then Punsunby said, "Go ahead, Ersk. What do you think it is?"

"I know what it is, now. Sabotage. Expert, organized, directed, and highly efficient sabotage. Worthy of the Commies at their very best."

"The Commies? But I...

"I didn't say it was and I don't think it is. I don't see how it could be. I can see only one possibility. I never have believed in mind reading; but what else can it be?"

"The Galaxians." Punsunby thought for minutes. "Mental stuff-that's why you want our mentalists to work openly with operators without losing caste. But no person has ever-knowingly, that is-has ever even seen a three-A, Ersk. It'd scare 'em to death."

"It'll have to be worse than that. They'll have to shed their pretty colored spotlights, put on lockets, and become operators. How the h.e.l.l else can we find out what is going on? All we're doing now is knocking h.e.l.l out of production by killing thousands of dumb b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who don't know whether Christ was crucified or shot in a c.r.a.p game."

"Well, how about hiring some of their psychics away from 'em? Price would be no object."

"We can't. They're ethical. And if WestHem ever finds out what we're doing they'll stop the Earth in its tracks and throw us the h.e.l.l off bodily. Don't kid yourself about this, Lord Byron, or you'll wind up square behind the eight-ball."

Punsunby wriggled and squirmed all the way to The World; but his every idea was crushed by Cantwell's relentless logic. Therefore, as soon as the starship landed, the two Supreme Beings of The World went directly to the immense building housing Information Central and donned the gorgeously-colored, heavily-jeweled regalia of their respective positions. Punsunby sat on the splendidly ornate Throne of The Company; Cantwell on a much smaller and somewhat plainer throne at his master's feet.

Punsunby put on a wisely beneficent smile, Cantwell pressed a hidden switch, and each of the thousands of Agents in Information Central's vast building was bathed both in the pure mercury-vapor Light of the Company and in the warmth and abundance of the Company's good will. Each put hands on head; each was suffused with happiness at this all-too-rare personal contact with The Company Itself.

"Children of the Company-my children-be happy," Punsunby told the raptly-listening thousands. "In view of the unprecedented difficulties which the World is now experiencing, The Company decrees that Article Ninety of its Second Directive is amended by the addition to it of Section Fifty Six, as follows: All members of all Mentalist castes in category A A A are permitted and directed to work, with no effect upon caste, at whatever undertakings and in whatever fashions Highest Agent A A A A A A B shall set up and direct.' Be happy children."

The Company lights all went out, the golden thrones sank down through the golden floor, and Punsunby whirled on Cantwell.

"I hope to h.e.l.l that does it!" he snapped. "Now let's shed this junk and get me going back to Earth!"

Deston and his crew were not interested in Punsunby himself. What they wanted was the coordinates of The World. Thus they were on the lookout for, and were checking up on, every starship approaching Tellus. Thus, even before Cantwell's subs.p.a.cer landed, they had learned everything that Cantwell himself had ever known about The World and had put the Explorer into orbit around The World's sun. And thus, long before the disguised psychologists of The World had made any significant progress in their investigations, the Galaxians were ready to go to work.

"Shall we take a quick peek at Information Central?" Deston asked, "To see which of those colored-headlamped buzzards are doing what to whom?"

"We shall not!" Barbara declared. "If I never know exactly which b.u.t.ton a murderer pushes to kill a perfectly innocent person it will be three days too soon. We can cripple all the instrumentation of that whole Information Central without..." She paused and frowned. "Exactly," Jones said. "That would tear it."

"Well, maybe," Barbara conceded. "So well hunt up whoever's causing it and put them out of business, and then stop it. We know it isn't the Galaxians, so it must be the Communists."

"If we couldn't find the place, how could they?" Deston asked. His thoughts took a new turn then, and as he thought his mind-blocks began unconsciously to go up. "Okay, we'll hunt 'em up. We know how they work. They won't be close in-too easy to spot. They'll be 'way out somewhere, and quite possibly underground. It will be a job, fine-toothing that much territory, but there's a lot of us. We'll divide it up... like this...

It was super-sensitive Bernice who finally found the Russians' carefully-concealed, deeply-buried headquarters.