The Deep Range Part 12

"It's obviously possible. possible. It was a very clever move, having the chef of the Waldorf tasting both the genuine and the synthetic product, and being unable to tell the difference. There's no doubt you're going to have a lovely fight on your hands-the farm people will jump right in on the Thero's side of the fence, and the whole Marine Division will be split wide open." It was a very clever move, having the chef of the Waldorf tasting both the genuine and the synthetic product, and being unable to tell the difference. There's no doubt you're going to have a lovely fight on your hands-the farm people will jump right in on the Thero's side of the fence, and the whole Marine Division will be split wide open."

"He probably planned that," said Franklin with reluctant admiration. "He's diabolically well-informed. I wish now I hadn't said so much about the possibilities of milk production during that interview-and they did overplay it a bit in the final article. I'm sure that's what started the whole business."

"That's another thing I was going to mention. Where did he get the figures on which he based his statistics? As far as I know, they have never been published anywhere outside the bureau."

"You're right," conceded Franklin. "I should have thought of that before. First thing tomorrow morning I'm going out to Heron Island to have a little talk with Dr. Lundquist."

"Will you take me, Daddy?"pleadedAnne.

"Not this time, young lady. I wouldn't like an innocent daughter of mine to hear some of the things I may have to say."

"Dr. Lundquist is out in the lagoon, sir," said the chief lab a.s.sistant. "There's no way of contacting him until he decides to come up."

"Oh, isn't there? I could go down and tap him on the shoulder."

"I don't think that would be at all wise, sir. Attila and Genghis Khan aren't very fond of strangers."

"Good G.o.d-is he swimming with them!" them!"

"Oh yes-they're quite fond of him, and they've got very friendly with the wardens who work with them. But anyone else might be eaten rather quickly."

Quite a lot seemed to be going on, thought Franklin, that he knew very little about. He decided to walk to the lagoon; unless it was extremely hot, or one had something to carry, it was never worthwhile to take a car for such short distances.

He had changed his mind by the time he reached the new eastern jetty. Either Heron Island was getting bigger or he was beginning to feel his years. He sat down on the keel of an upturned dinghy, and looked out to sea. The tide was in, but the sharp dividing line marking the edge of the reef was clearly visible, and in the fenced-off enclosure the spouts of the two killer whales appeared as intermittent plumes of mist. There was a small boat out there, with somebody in it, but it was too far away for him to tell whether it was Dr. Lundquist or one of his a.s.sistants.

He waited for a few minutes, then telephoned for a boat to carry him out to the reef. In slightly more time than it would have taken him to swim there, he arrived at the enclosure and had his first good look at Attila and Genghis Khan.

The two killer whales were a little under thirty feet long, and as his boat approached them they simultaneously reared out of the water and stared at him with their huge, intelligent eyes. The unusual att.i.tude, and the pure white of the bodies now presented to him, gave Franklin the uncanny impression that he was face to face not with animals but with beings who might be higher in the order of creation than himself. He knew that the truth was far otherwise, and reminded himself that he was looking at the most ruthless killer in the sea.

No, that was not quite correct. The second second most ruthless killer in the sea... The whales dropped back into the water, apparently satisfied with their scrutiny. It was then that Franklin made out Lundquist, working about thirty feet down with a small torpedo loaded with instruments. Probably the commotion had disturbed him most ruthless killer in the sea... The whales dropped back into the water, apparently satisfied with their scrutiny. It was then that Franklin made out Lundquist, working about thirty feet down with a small torpedo loaded with instruments. Probably the commotion had disturbed him, because he came quickly to the surface and lay treading water, with his face mask pushed back, as he recognized his visitor. because he came quickly to the surface and lay treading water, with his face mask pushed back, as he recognized his visitor.

"Good morning, Mr. Franklin. I wasn't expecting you today. What do you think of my pupils?"

"Very impressive. How well are they learning their lessons?"

"There's no doubt about it-they're brilliant. Even cleverer than porpoises, and surprisingly affectionate when they get to know you. I can teach them to do anything now. If I wanted to commit the perfect murder, I could tell them that you were a seal on an ice floe, and they'd have the boat over in two seconds."

"In that case, I'd prefer to continue our conversation back on land. Have you finished whatever you're doing?"

"It's never finished, but that doesn't matter. I'll ride the torp back-no need to lift all this gear into the boat."

The scientist swung his tiny metal fish around toward the island, and promptly set off at a speed which the dinghy could not hope to match. At once the two killers streaked after him, their huge dorsal fins leaving a creamy wake in the water. It seemed a dangerous game of tag to play, but before Franklin could discover what would happen when the killers caught the torpedo, Lundquist had crossed the shallow but clearly marked mesh around the enclosure, and the two whales broke their rush in a flurry of spray.

Franklin was very thoughtful on the way back to land. He had known Lundquist for years, but now he felt that this was the first time he had ever really seen him. There had never been any doubt concerning his originality-indeed, his brilliance-but he also appeared to possess unsuspected courage and initiative. None of which, Franklin determined grimly, would help him unless he had a satisfactory answer to certain questions.

Dressed in his everyday clothes, and back in the familiar laboratory surroundings, Lundquist was the man Franklin had always known. "Now, John," he began, "I suppose you've seen this television propaganda against the bureau?"

"Of course. But is it against against us?" us?"

"It's certainly against our main activity, but we won't argue that point. What I want to know is this: Have you been in touch with the Maha Thero?"

"Oh yes. He contacted me immediately after that article appeared in Earth Magazine." Earth Magazine." "And you pa.s.sed on confidential information to him?" "And you pa.s.sed on confidential information to him?"

Lundquist looked sincerely hurt.

"I resent that, Mr. Franklin. The only information I gave him was an advance proof of my paper on whalemilk production, which comes out in the Cetological Review Cetological Review next month. You approved it for publication yourself." next month. You approved it for publication yourself."

The accusations that Franklin was going to make collapsed around his ears, and he felt suddenly rather ashamed of himself.

"I'm sorry, John," he said. "I take that back. All this has made me a bit jumpy, and I just want to sort out the facts before HQ starts chasing me. But don't you think you should have told me about this inquiry?"

"Frankly, I don't see why. We get all sorts of queries every day, and I saw no reason to suppose that this was not just another routine one. Of course, I was pleased that somebody was taking a particular interest in my special project, and I gave them all the help I could."

"Very well," said Franklin resignedly. "Let's forget the post-mortem. But answer for me this question: As a scientist, do you really believe that we can afford to stop whale slaughtering and switch over to milk and synthetics?"

"Given ten years, we can do it if we have to. There's no technical objection that I can see. Of course I can't guarantee the figures on the plankton-farming side, but you can bet your life that the Thero had accurate sources of information there as well."

"But you realize what this will mean! If it starts with whales, sooner or later it will go right down the line through all the domestic animals."

"And why not? The prospect rather appeals to me. If science and religion can combine to take some of the cruelty out of Nature, isn't that a good thing?"

"You sound like a crypto-Buddhist-and I'm tired of pointing out that there's no cruelty in what we are doing. Meanwhile, if the Thero asks any more questions, kindly refer him to me."

"Very good, Mr. Franklin," Lundquist replied rather stiffly. There was an awkward pause, providentially broken by the arrival of a messenger.

"Headquarters wants to speak to you, Mr. Franklin. It's urgent."

"I bet it is," muttered Franklin. Then he caught sight of Lundquist's still somewhat hostile expression, and could not suppress a smile.

"If you can train orcas to be wardens, John," he said, "you'd better start looking around for a suitable mammal- preferably amphibious-to be the next director." On a planet of instantaneous and universal communications, ideas spread from pole to pole more rapidly than they could once have done by word of mouth in a single village. The skillfully edited and presented program which had spoiled the appet.i.tes of a mere twenty million people on its first appearance had a far larger audience on its second. Soon there were few other topics of conversation; one of the disadvantages of life in a peaceful and well-organized world state was that with the disappearance of wars and crises very little was left of what was once called "news." Indeed, the complaint had often been made that since the ending of national sovereignty, history had also been abolished. So the argument raged in club and kitchen, in World a.s.sembly and lonely s.p.a.ce freighter, with no compet.i.tion from any other quarter.

The World Food Organization maintained a dignified silence, but behind the scenes there was furious activity. Matters were not helped by the brisk lobbying of the farm group, which it had taken no great foresight on Indra's part to predict. Franklin was particularly annoyed by the efforts of the rival department to profit from his difficulties, and made several protests to the Director of Plankton Farms when the infighting became a little too rough. "d.a.m.n it all, Ted," he had snarled over the viewphone on one occasion, "you're just as big a butcher as I am. Every ton of raw plankton you process contains half a billion shrimps with as much right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness as my whales. So don't try to stand in a white sheet. Sooner or later the Thero will work down to you-this is only the thin edge of the wedge."

"Maybe you're right, Walter," the culprit had admitted cheerfully enough, "but I think the farms will last out my time. It's not easy to make people sentimental over shrimps- they don't have cute little ten-ton babies to nurse."

That was perfectly true; it was very hard to draw the line between maudlin sentimentality and rational humanitarianism. Franklin remembered a recent cartoon showing the Thero raising his arms in protest while a shrieking cabbage was brutally dragged from the ground. The artist had taken no sides; he had merely summed up the viewpoint of those who considered that a great deal of fuss was being made about nothing. Perhaps this whole affair would blow over in a few weeks when people became bored and started arguing about something else-but he doubted it. That first television program had shown that the Thero was an expert in molding public opinion; he could be relied upon not to let his campaign lose momentum.

It took less than a month for the Thero to obtain the ten per cent vote needed under the const.i.tution to set up a commission of inquiry. The fact that one tenth of the human race was sufficiently interested in the matter to request that all the facts be laid before it did not mean that they agreed with the Thero; mere curiosity and the pleasure of seeing a department of the state fighting a defensive rear-guard action was quite enough to account for the vote. In itself, a commission of inquiry meant very little. What would matter would be the final referendum on the commission's report, and it would be months before that could be arranged.

One of the unexpected results of the twentieth century's electronic revolution was that for the first time in history it was possible to have a truly democratic government-in the sense that every citizen could express his views on matters of policy. What the Athenians, with indifferent success, had tried to do with a few thousand score of free men could now be achieved in a global society of five billions. Automatic sampling devices originally devised for the rating of television programs had turned out to have a far wider significance, by making it a relatively simple and inexpensive matter to discover exactly what the public really thought on any subject.

Naturally, there had to be safeguards, and such a system would have been disastrous before the days of universal education-before, in fact, the beginning of the twenty-first century. Even now, it was possible for some emotionally laden issue to force a vote that was really against the best interests of the community, and no government could function unless it held the final right to decide matters of policy during its term of office. Even if the world demanded some course of action by a ninety-nine per cent vote, the state could ignore the expressed will of the people-but it would have to account for its behavior at the next election.

Franklin did not relish the privilege of being a key witness at the commission's hearings, but he knew that there was no way in which he could escape this ordeal. Much of his time was now spent in collecting data to refute the arguments of those who wished to put an end to whale slaughtering, and it proved to be a more difficult task than he had imagined. One could not present a neat, clear-cut case by saying that processed whale meat cost so much per pound by the time it reached the consumer's table whereas synthetic meats derived from plankton or algae would cost more. n.o.body knew -there were far too many variables. The biggest unknown of all was the cost of running the proposed sea dairies, if it was decided to breed whales purely for milk and not for slaughter.

The data were insufficient. It would be honest to say so, but there was pressure on him to state outright that the suspension of whale slaughtering would never be a practical or economic possibility. His own loyalty to the bureau, not to mention the security of his present position, prompted him in the same direction.

But it was not merely a matter of economics; there were emotional factors which disturbed Franklin's judgment and made it impossible for him to make up his mind. The days he had spent with the Maha Thero, and his brief glimpse of a civilization and a way of thought far older than his own, had affected him more deeply than he had realized. Like most men of his highly materialistic era, he was intoxicated with the scientific and sociological triumphs which had irradiated the opening decades of the twenty-first century. He prided himself on his skeptical rationalism, and his total freedom from superst.i.tion. The fundamental questions of philosophy had never bothered him greatly; he knew that they existed, but they had seemed the concern of other people.

And now, whether he liked it or not, he had been challenged from a quarter so unexpected that he was almost defenseless. He had always considered himself a humane man, but now he had been reminded that humanity might not be enough. As he struggled with his thoughts, he became progressively more and more irritable with the world around him, and matters finally became so bad that Indra had to take action.

"Walter," she said firmly, when Anne had gone tearfully to bed after a row in which there was a good deal of blame on both sides, "it will save a lot of trouble if you face the facts and stop trying to fool yourself."

"What the devil do you mean?"

"You've been angry with everybody this last week-with just one exception. You've lost your temper with Lundquist-though that was partly my fault-with the press, with just about every other bureau in the division, with the children, and any moment you're going to lose it with me. But there's one person you're not angry with-and that's the Maha Thero, who's the cause of all the trouble."

"Why should I be? He's crazy, of course, but he's a saint-or as near it as I ever care to meet."

"I'm not arguing about that. I'm merely saying that you really agree with him, but you won't admit it."

Franklin started to explode. "That's utterly ridiculous!" he began. Then his indignation petered out. It was was ridiculous; but it was also perfectly true. ridiculous; but it was also perfectly true.

He felt a great calm come upon him; he was no longer angry with the world and with himself. His childish resentment of the fact that he he should be the man involved in a dilemma not of his making suddenly evaporated. There was no reason why he should be ashamed of the fact that he had grown to love the great beasts he guarded; if their slaughter could be avoided, he should welcome it, whatever the consequences to the bureau. should be the man involved in a dilemma not of his making suddenly evaporated. There was no reason why he should be ashamed of the fact that he had grown to love the great beasts he guarded; if their slaughter could be avoided, he should welcome it, whatever the consequences to the bureau.

The parting smile of the Thero suddenly floated up into his memory. Had that extraordinary man foreseen that he would win him around to his point of view? If his gentle persuasiveness-which he had not hesitated to combine with the shock tactics of that bloodstained television program-could work with Franklin himself, then the battle was already half over.

Twenty-Two.

LIFE WAS A good deal simpler in the old days, thought Indra with a sigh. It was true that Peter and Anne were both at school or college most of the time, but somehow that had given her none of the additional leisure she had expected. There was so much entertaining and visiting to do, now that Walter had moved into the upper echelons of the state. Though perhaps that was exaggerating a little; the director of the Bureau of Whales was still a long way-at least six steps-down from the rarefied heights in which the president and his advisers dwelt.

But there were some things that cut right across official rank. No one could deny that there was a glamour about Walt's job and an interest in his activities that had made him known to a far wider circle than the other directors of the Marine Division, even before the Earth Magazine Earth Magazine article or the present controversy over whale slaughtering. How many people could name the director of Plankton Farms or of Fresh-Water Food Production? Not one to every hundred that had heard of Walter. It was a fact that made her proud, even though at the same time it exposed Walter to a good deal of interdepartmental jealousy. article or the present controversy over whale slaughtering. How many people could name the director of Plankton Farms or of Fresh-Water Food Production? Not one to every hundred that had heard of Walter. It was a fact that made her proud, even though at the same time it exposed Walter to a good deal of interdepartmental jealousy.

Now, however, it seemed likely to expose him to worse than that. So far, no one in the bureau, still less any of the higher officials of the Marine Division or the World Food Organization imagined for one moment that Walter had any private doubts or that he was not wholeheartedly in support of the status quo. status quo.

Her attempts to read the current Nature were interrupted by the private-line viewphone. It had been installed, despite her bitter protests, the day that Walter had become director. The public service, it seemed, was not good enough; now the office could get hold of Walter whenever it liked, unless he took precautions to frustrate it.

"Oh, good morning, Mrs. Franklin," said the operator, who was now practically a friend of the family. "Is the director in?"

"I'm afraid not," said Indra with satisfaction. "He hasn't had a day off for about a month, and he's out sailing in the bay with Peter. If you want to catch him, you'll have to send a plane out; J.94's radio has broken down again."

"Both sets? That's odd. Still, it's not urgent. When he comes in, will you give him this memo?" sets? That's odd. Still, it's not urgent. When he comes in, will you give him this memo?"

There was a barely audible click, and a sheet of paper drifted down into the extra large-sized memorandum basket. Indra read it, gave the operator an absent-minded farewell, and at once called Franklin on his perfectly serviceable radio.

The creak of the rigging, the soft rush of water past the smooth hull-even the occasional cry of a sea bird-these sounds came clearly from the speaker and transported her at once out into Moreton Bay.

"I thought you'd like to know, Walter," she said, "the Policy Board is having its special meeting next Wednesday, here in Brisbane. That gives you three days to decide what you're going to tell them."

There was a slight pause during which she could hear her husband moving about the boat; then Franklin answered: "Thanks, dear. I know what I've got to say-I just don't know how to say it. But there's something I've thought of that you can do to help. You know all the wardens' wives-suppose you call up as many as you can, and try to find what their husbands feel about this business. Can you do that without making it look too obvious? It's not so easy for me, nowadays, to find what the men in the field are thinking. They're too liable to tell me what they imagine I want to know."

There was a wistful note in Franklin's voice which Indra had been hearing more and more frequently these days, though she knew her husband well enough to be quite sure that he had no real regrets for having taken on his present responsibilities.

"That's a good idea," she said. "There are at least a dozen people I should have called up weeks ago, and this will give me an excuse. It probably means that we'll have to have another party though."

"I don't mind that, as long as I'm still director and can afford to pay for it. But if I revert to a warden's pay in a month or so, we'll have to cut out the entertaining."

"You don't really think-"

"Oh, it won't be as bad as that. But they may shift me to some nice safe job, though I can't imagine what use I am now outside the bureau. GET OUT OF THE WAY, YOU BLASTED FOOL GET OUT OF THE WAY, YOU BLASTED FOOL-CAN'T YOU SEE WHERE YOU'RE GOING? Sorry, dear-too many week-end sailors around. We'll be back in ninety minutes, unless some idiot rams us. Pete says he wants honey for tea. Bye now." Sorry, dear-too many week-end sailors around. We'll be back in ninety minutes, unless some idiot rams us. Pete says he wants honey for tea. Bye now."

Indra looked thoughtfully at the radio as the sounds of the distant boat ceased abruptly. She half wished that she had accompanied Walter and Pete on their cruise out into the bay, but she had faced the fact that her son now needed his father's company rather than hers. There were times when she grudged this, realizing that in a few months they would both lose the boy whose mind and body they had formed, but who was now slipping from their grasp.

It was inevitable, of course; the ties that bound father and son together must now drive them apart. She doubted if Peter realized why he was so determined to get into s.p.a.ce; after all, it was a common enough ambition among boys of his age. But he was one of the youngest ever to obtain a triplanetary scholarship, and it was easy to understand why. He was determined to conquer the element that had defeated his father.

But enough of this daydreaming, she told herself. She got out her file of visiphone numbers, and began to tick off the names of all the wardens' wives who would be at home.

The Policy Board normally met twice a year, and very seldom had much policy to discuss, since most of the bureau's work was satisfactorily taken care of by the committees dealing with finance, production, staff, and technical development. Franklin served on all of these, though only as an ordinary member, since the chairman was always someone from the Marine Division or the World Secretariat. He sometimes came back from the meetings depressed and discouraged; what was very unusual was for him to come back in a bad temper as well.

Indra knew that something had gone wrong the moment he entered the house. "Let me know the worst," she said resignedly as her exhausted husband flopped into the most comfortable chair in sight. "Do you have to find a new job?"

She was only half joking, and Franklin managed a wan smile. "It's not as bad as that," he answered, "but there's more in this business than I thought. Old Burrows had got it all worked out before he took the chair; someone in the Secretariat had briefed him pretty thoroughly. What it comes to is this: Unless it can be proved that food production from whale milk and synthetics will be drastically cheaper than the present method, whale slaughtering will continue. Even a ten per cent saving isn't regarded as good enough to justify a switch-over. As Burrows put it, we're concerned with cost accounting, not abstruse philosophical principles like justice to animals.

"That's reasonable enough, I suppose, and certainly I wouldn't try to fight it. The trouble started during the break for coffee, when Burrows got me into a corner and asked me what the wardens thought about the whole business. So I told him that eighty per cent of them would like to see slaughtering stopped, even if it meant a rise in food costs. I don't know why he asked me this particular question, unless news of our little survey has leaked out.

"Anyway, it upset him a bit and I could see him trying to get around to something. Then he put it bluntly that I'd be a key witness when the inquiry started, and that the Marine Division wouldn't like me to plead the Thero's case in open court with a few million people watching. 'Suppose I'm asked for my personal opinion?' I said. 'No one's worked harder than me to increase whale-meat and oil production, but as soon as it's possible I'd like to see the bureau become a purely conservation service.' He asked if this was my considered viewpoint and I told him that it was.

"Then things got a bit personal, though still in a friendly sort of way, and we agreed that there was a distinct cleavage of opinion between the people who handled whales as whales and those who saw them only as statistics on food-production charts. After that Burrows went off and made some phone calls, and kept us all waiting around for half an hour while he talked to a few people up in the Secretariat. He finally came back with what were virtually my orders, though he was careful not to put it that way. It comes to this: I've got to be an obedient little ventriloquist's dummy at the inquiry."

"But suppose the other side asks you outright for your personal views?"

"Our counsel will try to head them off, and if he fails I'm not supposed to have any personal views."

"And what's the point of all this?"

"That's what I asked Burrows, and I finally managed to get it out of him. There are political issues involved. The Secretariat is afraid that the Maha Thero will get too powerful if he wins this case, so it's going to be fought whatever its merits."

"Now I understand," said Indra slowly. "Do you think that the Thero is after political power?"

"For its own sake-no. But he may be trying to gain influence to put across his religious ideas, and that's what the Secretariat's afraid of."

"And what are you going to do about it?" "I don't know," Franklin answered. "I really don't know."

He was still undecided when the hearings began and the Maha Thero made his first personal appearance before a world-wide audience. He was not, Franklin could not help thinking as he looked at the small, yellow-robed figure with its gleaming skull, very impressive at first sight. Indeed, there was something almost comic about him-until he began to speak, and one knew without any doubt that one was in the presence both of power and conviction.

"I would like to make one thing perfectly clear," said the Maha Thero, addressing not only the chairman of the commission but also the unseen millions who were watching this first hearing. "It is not true that we are trying to enforce vegetarianism on the world, as some of our opponents have tried to maintain. The Buddha himself did not abstain from eating meat, when it was given to him; nor do we, for a guest should accept gratefully whatever his host offers.