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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/32040-h.zip b/32040-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5af328c --- /dev/null +++ b/32040-h.zip diff --git a/32040-h/32040-h.htm b/32040-h/32040-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fb9adf0 --- /dev/null +++ b/32040-h/32040-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1605 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Diplomatic Immunity, by Robert Sheckley + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; background-color: #FFFFFF; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + + +.tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: dotted black 1px;} + +.img1 {border:solid 1px; } + +.p1 {font-size:xx-large; text-align:center; font-weight:bold; } +.p2 {font-size:x-large; text-align:center; font-weight:bold; } +.p3 {font-size:larger; text-align:center; font-weight:bold; } +.p4 { margin-left: 70%; } + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-right: 0.25em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft1 { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; + margin-top: 0.2em; + margin-right: 0.25em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Diplomatic Immunity, by Robert Sheckley + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Diplomatic Immunity + +Author: Robert Sheckley + +Illustrator: Ashman + +Release Date: April 18, 2010 [EBook #32040] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<p class="center">This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction August 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p></div> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img class="img1" src="images/cover.jpg" width="400" height="536" alt="" title="" /> +</div> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/image_001.jpg" width="300" height="669" alt="" title="" /> +</div> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p class="p1">diplomatic immunity</p> +<p> </p> +<p class="p2">By ROBERT SHECKLEY</p> +<p> </p> +<p class="p3">Illustrated by ASHMAN</p> +<p> </p> +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>He said he wasn't immortal—but nothing could kill him. +Still, if the Earth was to live as a free world, he had to +die.</i></p></div> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_c1.jpg" alt="C" width="61" height="50" /></div> +<p>ome right in, gentlemen," the Ambassador waved them into the very +special suite the State Department had given him. "Please be seated."</p> + +<p>Colonel Cercy accepted a chair, trying to size up the individual who +had all Washington chewing its fingernails. The Ambassador hardly +looked like a menace. He was of medium height and slight build, +dressed in a conservative brown tweed suit that the State Department +had given him. His face was intelligent, finely molded and aloof.</p> + +<p><i>As human as a human</i>, Cercy thought, studying the alien with bleak, +impersonal eyes.</p> + +<p>"How may I serve you?" the Ambassador asked, smiling.</p> + +<p>"The President has put me in charge of your case," Cercy said. "I've +studied Professor Darrig's reports—" he nodded at the scientist +beside him—"but I'd like to hear the whole thing for myself."</p> + +<p>"Of course," the alien said, lighting a cigarette. He seemed genuinely +pleased to be asked; which was interesting, Cercy thought. In the week +since he had landed, every important scientist in the country had been +at him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image_002.jpg" width="400" height="505" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><i>But in a pinch they call the Army</i>, Cercy reminded himself. He +settled back in his chair, both hands jammed carelessly in his +pockets. His right hand was resting on the butt of a .45, the safety +off.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_i1.jpg" alt="I" width="35" height="40" /></div> + +<p> have come," the alien said, "as an ambassador-at-large, +representing an empire that stretches half-way across the Galaxy. I +wish to extend the welcome of my people and to invite you to join our +organization."</p> + +<p>"I see," Cercy replied. "Some of the scientists got the impression +that participation was compulsory."</p> + +<p>"You will join," the Ambassador said, blowing smoke through his +nostrils.</p> + +<p>Cercy could see Darrig stiffen in his chair and bite his lip. Cercy +moved the automatic to a position where he could draw it easily. "How +did you find us?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"We ambassadors-at-large are each assigned an unexplored section of +space," the alien said. "We examine each star-system in that region +for planets, and each planet for intelligent life. Intelligent life is +rare in the Galaxy, you know."</p> + +<p>Cercy nodded, although he hadn't been aware of the fact.</p> + +<p>"When we find such a planet, we land, as I did, and prepare the +inhabitants for their part in our organization."</p> + +<p>"How will your people know that you have found intelligent life?" +Cercy asked.</p> + +<p>"There is a sending mechanism that is part of our structure," the +Ambassador answered. "It is triggered when we reach an inhabited +planet. This signal is beamed continually into space, to an effective +range of several thousand light-years. Follow-up crews are continually +sweeping through the limits of the reception area of each Ambassador, +listening for such messages. Detecting one, a colonizing team follows +it to the planet."</p> + +<p>He tapped his cigarette delicately on the edge of an ash tray. "This +method has definite advantages over sending combined colonization and +exploration teams obviously. It avoids the necessity of equipping +large forces for what may be decades of searching."</p> + +<p>"Sure." Cercy's face was expressionless. "Would you tell me more about +this message?"</p> + +<p>"There isn't much more you need know. The beam is not detectable by +your methods and, therefore, cannot be jammed. The message continues +as long as I am alive."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_d.jpg" alt="D" width="38" height="40" /></div> +<p>arrig drew in his breath sharply, glancing at Cercy.</p> + +<p>"If you stopped broadcasting," Cercy said casually, "our planet would +never be found."</p> + +<p>"Not until this section of space was resurveyed," the diplomat agreed.</p> + +<p>"Very well. As a duly appointed representative of the President of the +United States, I ask you to stop transmitting. We don't choose to +become part of your empire."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," the Ambassador said. He shrugged his shoulders easily. +Cercy wondered how many times he had played this scene on how many +other planets.</p> + +<p>"There's really nothing I can do." He stood up.</p> + +<p>"Then you won't stop?"</p> + +<p>"I can't. I have no control over the sending, once it's activated." +The diplomat turned and walked to the window. "However, I have +prepared a philosophy for you. It is my duty, as your Ambassador, to +ease the shock of transition as much as possible. This philosophy will +make it instantly apparent that—"</p> + +<p>As the Ambassador reached the window, Cercy's gun was out of his +pocket and roaring. He squeezed six rounds in almost a single +explosion, aiming at the Ambassador's head and back. Then an +uncontrollable shudder ran through him.</p> + +<p>The Ambassador was no longer there!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_c.jpg" alt="C" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>ercy and Darrig stared at each other. Darrig muttered something about +ghosts. Then, just as suddenly, the Ambassador was back.</p> + +<p>"You didn't think," he said, "that it would be as easy as all that, +did you? We Ambassadors have, necessarily, a certain diplomatic +immunity." He fingered one of the bullet holes in the wall. "In case +you don't understand, let me put it this way. It is not in your power +to kill me. You couldn't even understand the nature of my defense."</p> + +<p>He looked at them, and in that moment Cercy felt the Ambassador's +complete alienness.</p> + +<p>"Good day, gentlemen," he said.</p> + +<p>Darrig and Cercy walked silently back to the control room. Neither had +really expected that the Ambassador would be killed so easily, but it +had still been a shock when the slugs had failed.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you saw it all, Malley?" Cercy asked, when he reached the +control room.</p> + +<p>The thin, balding psychiatrist nodded sadly. "Got it on film, too."</p> + +<p>"I wonder what his philosophy is," Darrig mused, half to himself.</p> + +<p>"It was illogical to expect it would work. No race would send an +ambassador with a message like that and expect him to live through it. +Unless—"</p> + +<p>"Unless what?"</p> + +<p>"Unless he had a pretty effective defense," the psychiatrist finished +unhappily.</p> + +<p>Cercy walked across the room and looked at the video panel. The +Ambassador's suite was very special. It had been hurriedly constructed +two days after he had landed and delivered his message. The suite was +steel and lead lined, filled with video and movie cameras, recorders, +and a variety of other things.</p> + +<p>It was the last word in elaborate death cells.</p> + +<p>In the screen, Cercy could see the Ambassador sitting at a table. He +was typing on a little portable the Government had given him.</p> + +<p>"Hey, Harrison!" Cercy called. "Might as well go ahead with Plan Two."</p> + +<p>Harrison came out of a side room where he had been examining the +circuits leading to the Ambassador's suite. Methodically he checked +his pressure gauges, set the controls and looked at Cercy. "Now?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"Now." Cercy watched the screen. The Ambassador was still typing.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, as Harrison sent home the switch, the room was engulfed in +flames. Fire blasted out of concealed holes in the walls, poured from +the ceiling and floor.</p> + +<p>In a moment, the room was like the inside of a blast furnace.</p> + +<p>Cercy let it burn for two minutes, then motioned Harrison to cut the +switch. They stared at the roasted room.</p> + +<p>They were looking, hopefully, for a charred corpse.</p> + +<p>But the Ambassador reappeared beside his desk, looking ruefully at the +charred typewriter. He was completely unsinged.</p> + +<p>"Could you get me another typewriter?" he asked, looking directly at +one of the hidden projectors. "I'm setting down a philosophy for you +ungrateful wretches."</p> + +<p>He seated himself in the wreckage of an armchair. In a moment, he was +apparently asleep.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_a1.jpg" alt="A" width="47" height="40" /></div> + +<p>ll right, everyone grab a seat," Cercy said. "Time for a council of +war."</p> + +<p>Malley straddled a chair backward. Harrison lighted a pipe as he sat +down, slowly puffing it into life.</p> + +<p>"Now, then," Cercy said. "The Government has dropped this squarely in +our laps. We have to kill the Ambassador—obviously. I've been put in +charge." Cercy grinned with regret. "Probably because no one higher up +wants the responsibility of failure. And I've selected you three as my +staff. We can have anything we want, any assistance or advice we need. +All right. Any ideas?"</p> + +<p>"How about Plan Three?" Harrison asked.</p> + +<p>"We'll get to that," Cercy said. "But I don't believe it's going to +work."</p> + +<p>"I don't either," Darrig agreed. "We don't even know the nature of his +defense."</p> + +<p>"That's the first order of business. Malley, take all our data so far, +and get someone to feed it into the Derichman Analyzer. You know the +stuff we want. What properties has X, if X can do thus and thus?"</p> + +<p>"Right," Malley said. He left, muttering something about the +ascendancy of the physical sciences.</p> + +<p>"Harrison," Cercy asked, "is Plan Three set up?"</p> + +<p>"Sure."</p> + +<p>"Give it a try."</p> + +<p>While Harrison was making his last adjustments, Cercy watched Darrig. +The plump little physicist was staring thoughtfully into space, +muttering to himself. Cercy hoped he would come up with something. He +was expecting great things of Darrig.</p> + +<p>Knowing the impossibility of working with great numbers of people, +Cercy had picked his staff with care. Quality was what he wanted.</p> + +<p>With that in mind, he had chosen Harrison first. The stocky, +sour-faced engineer had a reputation for being able to build anything, +given half an idea of how it worked.</p> + +<p>Cercy had selected Malley, the psychiatrist, because he wasn't sure +that killing the Ambassador was going to be a purely physical problem.</p> + +<p>Darrig was a mathematical physicist, but his restless, curious mind +had come up with some interesting theories in other fields. He was the +only one of the four who was really interested in the Ambassador as an +intellectual problem.</p> + +<p>"He's like Metal Old Man," Darrig said finally.</p> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>"Haven't you ever heard the story of Metal Old Man? Well, he was a +monster covered with black metal armor. He was met by Monster-Slayer, +an Apache culture hero. Monster-Slayer, after many attempts, finally +killed Metal Old Man."</p> + +<p>"How did he do it?"</p> + +<p>"Shot him in the armpit. He didn't have any armor there."</p> + +<p>"Fine," Cercy grinned. "Ask our Ambassador to raise his arm."</p> + +<p>"All set!" Harrison called.</p> + +<p>"Fine. Go."</p> + +<p>In the Ambassador's room, an invisible spray of gamma rays silently +began to flood the room with deadly radiation.</p> + +<p>But there was no Ambassador to receive them.</p> + +<p>"That's enough," Cercy said, after a while. "That would kill a herd of +elephants."</p> + +<p>But the Ambassador stayed invisible for five hours, until some of the +radioactivity had abated. Then he appeared again.</p> + +<p>"I'm still waiting for that typewriter," he said.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_h1.jpg" alt="H" width="64" height="40" /></div> +<p>ere's the Analyzer's report." Malley handed Cercy a sheaf of papers. +"This is the final formulation, boiled down."</p> + +<p>Cercy read it aloud: "The simplest defense against any and all +weapons, is to <i>become</i> each particular weapon."</p> + +<p>"Great," Harrison said. "What does it mean?"</p> + +<p>"It means," Darrig explained, "that when we attack the Ambassador with +fire, he turns into fire. Shoot at him, and he turns into a +bullet—until the menace is gone, and then he changes back again." He +took the papers out of Cercy's hand and riffled through them.</p> + +<p>"Hmm. Wonder if there's any historical parallel? Don't suppose so." He +raised his head. "Although this isn't conclusive, it seems logical +enough. Any other defense would involve recognition of the weapon +first, then an appraisal, then a countermove predicated on the +potentialities of the weapon. The Ambassador's defense would be a lot +faster and safer. He wouldn't have to recognize the weapon. I suppose +his body simply <i>identifies</i>, in some way, with the menace at hand."</p> + +<p>"Did the Analyzer say there was any way of breaking this defense?" +Cercy asked.</p> + +<p>"The Analyzer stated definitely that there was no way, if the premise +were true," Malley answered gloomily.</p> + +<p>"We can discard that judgment," Darrig said. "The machine is limited."</p> + +<p>"But we still haven't got any way of stopping him," Malley pointed +out. "And he's still broadcasting that beam."</p> + +<p>Cercy thought for a moment. "Call in every expert you can find. We're +going to throw the book at the Ambassador. I know," he said, looking +at Darrig's dubious expression, "but we have to try."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_d.jpg" alt="D" width="38" height="40" /></div> +<p>uring the next few days, every combination and permutation of death +was thrown at the Ambassador. He was showered with weapons, ranging +from Stone-Age axes to modern high-powered rifles, peppered with hand +grenades, drowned in acid, suffocated in poison gas.</p> + +<p>He kept shrugging his shoulders philosophically, and continued to work +on the new typewriter they had given him.</p> + +<p>Bacteria was piped in, first the known germ diseases, then mutated +species.</p> + +<p>The diplomat didn't even sneeze.</p> + +<p>He was showered with electricity, radiation, wooden weapons, iron +weapons, copper weapons, brass weapons, uranium weapons—anything and +everything, just to cover all possibilities.</p> + +<p>He didn't suffer a scratch, but his room looked as though a bar-room +brawl had been going on in it continually for fifty years.</p> + +<p>Malley was working on an idea of his own, as was Darrig. The physicist +interrupted himself long enough to remind Cercy of the Baldur myth. +Baldur had been showered with every kind of weapon and remained +unscathed, because everything on Earth had promised to love him. +Everything, except the mistletoe. When a little twig of it was shot at +him, he died.</p> + +<p>Cercy turned away impatiently, but had an order of mistletoe sent up, +just in case.</p> + +<p>It was, at least, no less effective than the explosive shells or the +bow and arrow. It did nothing except lend an oddly festive air to the +battered room.</p> + +<p>After a week of this, they moved the unprotesting Ambassador into a +newer, bigger, stronger death cell. They were unable to venture into +his old one because of the radioactivity and micro-organisms.</p> + +<p>The Ambassador went back to work at his typewriter. All his previous +attempts had been burned, torn or eaten away.</p> + +<p>"Let's go talk to him," Darrig suggested, after another day had +passed. Cercy agreed. For the moment, they were out of ideas.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_c2.jpg" alt="C" width="49" height="40" /></div> +<p>ome right in, gentlemen," the Ambassador said, so cheerfully that +Cercy felt sick. "I'm sorry I can't offer you anything. Through an +oversight, I haven't been given any food or water for about ten days. +Not that it matters, of course."</p> + +<p>"Glad to hear it," Cercy said. The Ambassador hardly looked as if he +had been facing all the violence Earth had to offer. On the contrary, +Cercy and his men looked as though they had been under bombardment.</p> + +<p>"You've got quite a defense there," Malley said conversationally.</p> + +<p>"Glad you like it."</p> + +<p>"Would you mind telling us how it works?" Darrig asked innocently.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know?"</p> + +<p>"We think so. You become what is attacking you. Is that right?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," the Ambassador said. "You see, I have no secrets from +you."</p> + +<p>"Is there anything we can give you," Cercy asked, "to get you to turn +off that signal?"</p> + +<p>"A bribe?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," Cercy said. "Anything you—?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," the Ambassador replied.</p> + +<p>"Look, be reasonable," Harrison said. "You don't want to cause a war, +do you? Earth is united now. We're arming—"</p> + +<p>"With what?"</p> + +<p>"Atom bombs," Malley answered him. "Hydrogen bombs. We're—"</p> + +<p>"Drop one on me," the Ambassador said. "It wouldn't kill me. What +makes you think it will have any effect on my people?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="36" height="40" /></div> +<p>he four men were silent. Somehow, they hadn't thought of that.</p> + +<p>"A people's ability to make war," the Ambassador stated, "is a measure +of the status of their civilization. Stage one is the use of simple +physical extensions. Stage two is control at the molecular level. You +are on the threshold of stage three, although still far from mastery +of atomic and subatomic forces." He smiled ingratiatingly. "My people +are reaching the limits of stage five."</p> + +<p>"What would that be?" Darrig asked.</p> + +<p>"You'll find out," the Ambassador said. "But perhaps you've wondered +if my powers are typical? I don't mind telling you that they're not. +In order for me to do my job and nothing more, I have certain built-in +restrictions, making me capable only of passive action."</p> + +<p>"Why?" Darrig asked.</p> + +<p>"For obvious reasons. If I were to take positive action in a moment of +anger, I might destroy your entire planet."</p> + +<p>"Do you expect us to believe that?" Cercy asked.</p> + +<p>"Why not? Is it so hard to understand? Can't you believe that there +are forces you know nothing about? And there is another reason for my +passiveness. Certainly by this time you've deduced it?"</p> + +<p>"To break our spirit, I suppose," Cercy said.</p> + +<p>"Exactly. My telling you won't make any difference, either. The +pattern is always the same. An Ambassador lands and delivers his +message to a high-spirited, wild young race like yours. There is +frenzied resistance against him, spasmodic attempts to kill him. After +all these fail, the people are usually quite crestfallen. When the +colonization team arrives, their indoctrination goes along just that +much faster." He paused, then said, "Most planets are more interested +in the philosophy I have to offer. I assure you, it will make the +transition far easier."</p> + +<p>He held out a sheaf of typewritten pages. "Won't you at least look +through it?"</p> + +<p>Darrig accepted the papers and put them in his pocket. "When I get +time."</p> + +<p>"I suggest you give it a try," the Ambassador said. "You must be near +the crisis point now. Why not give it up?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet," Cercy replied tonelessly.</p> + +<p>"Don't forget to read the philosophy," the Ambassador urged them.</p> + +<p>The men hurried from the room.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_n1.jpg" alt="N" width="63" height="40" /></div> +<p>ow look," Malley said, once they were back in the control room, +"there are a few things we haven't tried. How about utilizing +psychology?"</p> + +<p>"Anything you like," Cercy agreed, "including black magic. What did +you have in mind?"</p> + +<p>"The way I see it," Malley answered, "the Ambassador is geared to +respond, instantaneously, to any threat. He must have an +all-or-nothing defensive reflex. I suggest first that we try something +that won't trigger that reflex."</p> + +<p>"Like what?" Cercy asked.</p> + +<p>"Hypnotism. Perhaps we can find out something."</p> + +<p>"Sure," Cercy said. "Try it. Try anything."</p> + +<p>Cercy, Malley and Darrig gathered around the video screen as an +infinitesimal amount of a light hypnotic gas was admitted into the +Ambassador's room. At the same time, a bolt of electricity lashed into +the chair where the Ambassador was sitting.</p> + +<p>"That was to distract him," Malley explained. The Ambassador vanished +before the electricity struck him, and then appeared again, curled up +in his armchair.</p> + +<p>"That's enough," Malley whispered, and shut the valve. They watched. +After a while, the Ambassador put down his book and stared into the +distance.</p> + +<p>"How strange," he said. "Alfern dead. Good friend ... just a freak +accident. He ran into it, out there. Didn't have a chance. But it +doesn't happen often."</p> + +<p>"He's thinking out loud," Malley whispered, although there was no +possibility of the Ambassador's hearing them. "Vocalizing his +thoughts. His friend must have been on his mind for some time."</p> + +<p>"Of course," the Ambassador went on, "Alfern had to die sometime. No +immortality—yet. But that way—no defense. Out there in space they +just pop up. Always there, underneath, just waiting for a chance to +boil out."</p> + +<p>"His body isn't reacting to the hypnotic as a menace yet," Cercy +whispered.</p> + +<p>"Well," the Ambassador told himself, "the regularizing principle has +been doing pretty well, keeping it all down, smoothing out the +inconsistencies—"</p> + +<p>Suddenly he leaped to his feet, his face pale for a moment, as he +obviously tried to remember what he had said. Then he laughed.</p> + +<p>"Clever. That's the first time that particular trick has been played +on me, and the last time. But, gentlemen, it didn't do you any good. I +don't know, myself, how to go about killing me." He laughed at the +blank walls.</p> + +<p>"Besides," he continued, "the colonizing team must have the direction +now. They'll find you with or without me."</p> + +<p>He sat down again, smiling.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t1.jpg" alt="T" width="45" height="40" /></div> +<p>hat does it!" Darrig cried. "He's not invulnerable. Something killed +his friend Alfern."</p> + +<p>"Something out in space," Cercy reminded him. "I wonder what it was."</p> + +<p>"Let me see," Darrig reflected aloud. "The regularizing principle. +That must be a natural law we knew nothing about. And underneath—what +would be underneath?"</p> + +<p>"He said the colonization team would find us anyhow," Malley reminded +them.</p> + +<p>"First things first," Cercy said. "He might have been bluffing us ... +no, I don't suppose so. We still have to get the Ambassador out of the +way."</p> + +<p>"I think I know what is underneath!" Darrig exclaimed. "This is +wonderful. A new cosmology, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" Cercy asked. "Anything we can use?"</p> + +<p>"I think so. But let me work it out. I think I'll go back to my hotel. +I have some books there I want to check, and I don't want to be +disturbed for a few hours."</p> + +<p>"All right," Cercy agreed. "But what—?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image_003.jpg" width="400" height="558" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"No, no, I could be wrong," Darrig said. "Let me work it out." He +hurried from the room.</p> + +<p>"What do you think he's driving at?" Malley asked.</p> + +<p>"Beats me," Cercy shrugged. "Come on, let's try some more of that +psychological stuff."</p> + +<p>First they filled the Ambassador's room with several feet of water. +Not enough to drown him, just enough to make him good and +uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>To this, they added the lights. For eight hours, lights flashed in the +Ambassador's room. Bright lights to pry under his eyelids; dull, +clashing ones to disturb him.</p> + +<p>Sound came next—screeches and screams and shrill, grating noises. The +sound of a man's fingernails being dragged across slate, amplified a +thousand times, and strange, sucking noises, and shouts and whispers.</p> + +<p>Then, the smells. Then, everything else they could think of that could +drive a man insane.</p> + +<p>The Ambassador slept peacefully through it all.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_n1.jpg" alt="N" width="63" height="40" /></div> +<p>ow look," Cercy said, the following day, "let's start using our +damned heads." His voice was hoarse and rough. Although the +psychological torture hadn't bothered the Ambassador, it seemed to +have backfired on Cercy and his men.</p> + +<p>"Where in hell is Darrig?"</p> + +<p>"Still working on that idea of his," Malley said, rubbing his stubbled +chin. "Says he's just about got it."</p> + +<p>"We'll work on the assumption that he can't produce," Cercy said. +"Start thinking. For example, if the Ambassador can turn into +anything, what is there he can't turn into?"</p> + +<p>"Good question," Harrison grunted.</p> + +<p>"It's the payoff question," Cercy said. "No use throwing a spear at a +man who can turn into one."</p> + +<p>"How about this?" Malley asked. "Taking it for granted he can turn +into anything, how about putting him in a situation where he'll be +attacked even <i>after</i> he alters?"</p> + +<p>"I'm listening," Cercy said.</p> + +<p>"Say he's in danger. He turns into the thing threatening him. What if +<i>that thing</i> were itself being threatened? And, in turn, was in the +act of threatening something else? What would he do then?"</p> + +<p>"How are you going to put that into action?" Cercy asked.</p> + +<p>"Like this." Malley picked up the telephone. "Hello? Give me the +Washington Zoo. This is urgent."</p> + +<p>The Ambassador turned as the door opened. An unwilling, angry, hungry +tiger was propelled in. The door slammed shut.</p> + +<p>The tiger looked at the Ambassador. The Ambassador looked at the +tiger.</p> + +<p>"Most ingenious," the Ambassador said.</p> + +<p>At the sound of his voice, the tiger came unglued. He sprang like a +steel spring uncoiling, landing on the floor where the Ambassador had +been.</p> + +<p>The door opened again. Another tiger was pushed in. He snarled angrily +and leaped at the first. They smashed together in midair.</p> + +<p>The Ambassador appeared a few feet off, watching. He moved back when a +lion entered the door, head up and alert. The lion sprang at him, +almost going over on his head when he struck nothing. Not finding any +human, the lion leaped on one of the tigers.</p> + +<p>The Ambassador reappeared in his chair, where he sat smoking and +watching the beasts kill each other.</p> + +<p>In ten minutes the room looked like an abattoir.</p> + +<p>But by then the Ambassador had tired of the spectacle, and was +reclining on his bed, reading.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_i1.jpg" alt="I" width="35" height="40" /></div> + +<p> give up," Malley said. "That was my last bright idea."</p> + +<p>Cercy stared at the floor, not answering. Harrison was seated in the +corner, getting quietly drunk.</p> + +<p>The telephone rang.</p> + +<p>"Yeah?" Cercy said.</p> + +<p>"I've got it!" Darrig's voice shouted over the line. "I really think +this is it. Look, I'm taking a cab right down. Tell Harrison to find +some helpers."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" Cercy asked.</p> + +<p>"The chaos underneath!" Darrig replied, and hung up.</p> + +<p>They paced the floor, waiting for him to show up. Half an hour passed, +then an hour. Finally, three hours after he had called, Darrig +strolled in.</p> + +<p>"Hello," he said casually.</p> + +<p>"Hello, hell!" Cercy growled. "What kept you?"</p> + +<p>"On the way over," Darrig said, "I read the Ambassador's philosophy. +It's quite a work."</p> + +<p>"Is that what took you so long?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I had the driver take me around the park a few times, while I +was reading it."</p> + +<p>"Skip it. How about—"</p> + +<p>"I can't skip it," Darrig said, in a strange, tight voice. "I'm afraid +we were wrong. About the aliens, I mean. It's perfectly right and +proper that they should rule us. As a matter of fact, I wish they'd +hurry up and get here."</p> + +<p>But Darrig didn't look certain. His voice shook and perspiration +poured from his face. He twisted his hands together, as though in +agony.</p> + +<p>"It's hard to explain," he said. "Everything became clear as soon as I +started reading it. I saw how stupid we were, trying to be +independent in this interdependent Universe. I saw—oh, look, Cercy. +Let's stop all this foolishness and accept the Ambassador as our +friend."</p> + +<p>"Calm down!" Cercy shouted at the perfectly calm physicist. "You don't +know what you're saying."</p> + +<p>"It's strange," Darrig said. "I know how I felt—I just don't feel +that way any more. I think. Anyhow, I know <i>your</i> trouble. You haven't +read the philosophy. You'll see what I mean, once you've read it." He +handed Cercy the pile of papers. Cercy promptly ignited them with his +cigarette lighter.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't matter," Darrig said. "I've got it memorized. Just listen. +Axiom one. All peoples—"</p> + +<p>Cercy hit him, a short, clean blow, and Darrig slumped to the floor.</p> + +<p>"Those words must be semantically keyed," Malley said. "They're +designed to set off certain reactions in us, I suppose. All the +Ambassador does is alter the philosophy to suit the peoples he's +dealing with."</p> + +<p>"Look, Malley," Cercy said. "This is your job now. Darrig knows, or +thought he knew, the answer. You have to get that out of him."</p> + +<p>"That won't be easy," Malley said. "He'd feel that he was betraying +everything he believes in, if he were to tell us."</p> + +<p>"I don't care how you get it," Cercy said. "Just get it."</p> + +<p>"Even if it kills him?" Malley asked.</p> + +<p>"Even if it kills you."</p> + +<p>"Help me get him to my lab," Malley said.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="36" height="40" /></div> +<p>hat night Cercy and Harrison kept watch on the Ambassador from the +control room. Cercy found his thoughts were racing in circles.</p> + +<p>What had killed Alfern in space? Could it be duplicated on Earth? What +was the regularizing principle? What was the chaos underneath?</p> + +<p><i>What in hell am I doing here?</i> he asked himself. But he couldn't +start that sort of thing.</p> + +<p>"What do you figure the Ambassador is?" he asked Harrison. "Is he a +man?"</p> + +<p>"Looks like one," Harrison said drowsily.</p> + +<p>"But he doesn't act like one. I wonder if this is his true shape?"</p> + +<p>Harrison shook his head, and lighted his pipe.</p> + +<p>"What is there of him?" Cercy asked. "He looks like a man, but he can +change into anything else. You can't attack him; he adapts. He's like +water, taking the shape of any vessel he's poured into."</p> + +<p>"You can boil water," Harrison yawned.</p> + +<p>"Sure. Water hasn't any shape, has it? Or has it? What's basic?"</p> + +<p>With an effort, Harrison tried to focus on Cercy's words. "Molecular +pattern? The matrix?"</p> + +<p>"Matrix," Cercy repeated, yawning himself. "Pattern. Must be something +like that. A pattern is abstract, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. A pattern can be impressed on anything. What did I say?"</p> + +<p>"Let's see," Cercy said. "Pattern. Matrix. Everything about the +Ambassador is capable of change. There must be some unifying force +that retains his personality. Something that <i>doesn't</i> change, no +matter what contortions he goes through."</p> + +<p>"Like a piece of string," Harrison murmured with his eyes closed.</p> + +<p>"Sure. Tie it in knots, weave a rope out of it, wind it around your +finger; it's still string."</p> + +<p>"Yeah."</p> + +<p>"But how do you attack a pattern?" Cercy asked. And why couldn't he +get some sleep? To hell with the Ambassador and his hordes of +colonists, he was going to close his eyes for a moment....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_w1.jpg" alt="W" width="62" height="40" /></div> +<p>ake up, Colonel!"</p> + +<p>Cercy pried his eyes open and looked up at Malley. Besides him, +Harrison was snoring deeply. "Did you get anything?"</p> + +<p>"Not a thing," Malley confessed. "The philosophy must've had quite an +effect on him. But it didn't work all the way. Darrig knew that he +<i>had wanted</i> to kill the Ambassador, and for good and sufficient +reasons. Although he felt differently now, he still had the feeling +that he was betraying us. On the one hand, he couldn't hurt the +Ambassador; on the other, he wouldn't hurt us."</p> + +<p>"Won't he tell anything?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid it's not that simple," Malley said. "You know, if you have +an insurmountable obstacle that <i>must</i> be surmounted ... and also, I +think the philosophy had an injurious effect on his mind."</p> + +<p>"What are you trying to say?" Cercy got to his feet.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," Malley apologized, "there wasn't a damned thing I could +do. Darrig fought the whole thing out in his mind, and when he +couldn't fight any longer, he—retreated. I'm afraid he's hopelessly +insane."</p> + +<p>"Let's see him."</p> + +<p>They walked down the corridor to Malley's laboratory. Darrig was +relaxed on a couch, his eyes glazed and staring.</p> + +<p>"Is there any way of curing him?" Cercy asked.</p> + +<p>"Shock therapy, maybe." Malley was dubious. "It'll take a long time. +And he'll probably block out everything that had to do with producing +this."</p> + +<p>Cercy turned away, feeling sick. Even if Darrig could be cured, it +would be too late. The aliens must have picked up the Ambassador's +message by now and were undoubtedly heading for Earth.</p> + +<p>"What's this?" Cercy asked, picking up a piece of paper that lay by +Darrig's hand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he was doodling," Malley said. "Is there anything written on it?"</p> + +<p>Cercy read aloud: "'Upon further consideration I can see that Chaos +and the Gorgon Medusa are closely related.'"</p> + +<p>"What does that mean?" Malley asked.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Cercy puzzled. "He was always interested in folklore."</p> + +<p>"Sounds schizophrenic," the psychiatrist said.</p> + +<p>Cercy read it again. "'Upon further consideration, I can see that +Chaos and the Gorgon Medusa are closely related.'" He stared at it. +"Isn't it possible," he asked Malley, "that he was trying to give us a +clue? Trying to trick himself into giving and not giving at the same +time?"</p> + +<p>"It's possible," Malley agreed. "An unsuccessful compromise—But what +could it mean?"</p> + +<p>"Chaos." Cercy remembered Darrig's mentioning that word in his +telephone call. "That was the original state of the Universe in Greek +myth, wasn't it? The formlessness out of which everything came?"</p> + +<p>"Something like that," Malley said. "And Medusa was one of those three +sisters with the horrible faces."</p> + +<p>Cercy stood for a moment, staring at the paper. Chaos ... Medusa ... +and the organizing principle! Of course!</p> + +<p>"I think—" He turned and ran from the room. Malley looked at him; +then loaded a hypodermic and followed.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="19" height="40" /></div> +<p>n the control room, Cercy shouted Harrison into consciousness.</p> + +<p>"Listen," he said, "I want you to build something, quick. Do you hear +me?"</p> + +<p>"Sure." Harrison blinked and sat up. "What's the rush?"</p> + +<p>"I know what Darrig wanted to tell us," Cercy said. "Come on, I'll +tell you what I want. And Malley, put down that hypodermic. I haven't +cracked. I want you to get me a book on Greek mythology. And hurry it +up."</p> + +<p>Finding a Greek mythology isn't an easy task at two o'clock in the +morning. With the aid of FBI men, Malley routed a book dealer out of +bed. He got his book and hurried back.</p> + +<p>Cercy was red-eyed and excited, and Harrison and his helpers were +working away at three crazy looking rigs. Cercy snatched the book from +Malley, looked up one item, and put it down.</p> + +<p>"Great work," he said. "We're all set now. Finished, Harrison?"</p> + +<p>"Just about." Harrison and ten helpers were screwing in the last +parts. "Will you tell me what this is?"</p> + +<p>"Me too," Malley put in.</p> + +<p>"I don't mean to be secretive," Cercy said. "I'm just in a hurry. I'll +explain as we go along." He stood up. "Okay, let's wake up the +Ambassador."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="36" height="40" /></div> +<p>hey watched the screen as a bolt of electricity leaped from the +ceiling to the Ambassador's bed. Immediately, the Ambassador vanished.</p> + +<p>"Now he's a part of that stream of electrons, right?" Cercy asked.</p> + +<p>"That's what he told us," Malley said.</p> + +<p>"But still keeping his pattern, within the stream," Cercy continued. +"He has to, in order to get back into his own shape. Now we start the +first disrupter."</p> + +<p>Harrison hooked the machine into circuit, and sent his helpers away.</p> + +<p>"Here's a running graph of the electron stream," Cercy said. "See the +difference?" On the graph there was an irregular series of peaks and +valleys, constantly shifting and leveling. "Do you remember when you +hypnotized the Ambassador? He talked about his friend who'd been +killed in space."</p> + +<p>"That's right," Malley nodded. "His friend had been killed by +something that had just popped up."</p> + +<p>"He said something else," Cercy went on. "He told us that the basic +organizing force of the Universe usually stopped things like that. +What does that mean to you?"</p> + +<p>"The organizing force," Malley repeated slowly. "Didn't Darrig say +that that was a new natural law?"</p> + +<p>"He did. But think of the implications, as Darrig did. If an +organizing principle is engaged in some work, there must be something +that opposes it. That which opposes organization is—"</p> + +<p>"Chaos!"</p> + +<p>"That's what Darrig thought, and what we should have seen. The chaos +is underlying, and out of it there arose an organizing principle. This +principle, if I've got it right, sought to suppress the fundamental +chaos, to make all things regular.</p> + +<p>"But the chaos still boils out in spots, as Alfern found out. Perhaps +the organizational pattern is weaker in space. Anyhow, those spots are +dangerous, until the organizing principle gets to work on them."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image_004.jpg" width="400" height="512" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e turned to the panel. "Okay, Harrison. Throw in the second +disrupter." The peaks and valleys altered on the graph. They started +to mount in crazy, meaningless configurations.</p> + +<p>"Take Darrig's message in the light of that. Chaos, we know, is +underlying. Everything was formed out of it. The Gorgon Medusa was +something that <i>couldn't be looked upon</i>. She turned men into stone, +you recall, destroyed them. So, Darrig found a relationship between +chaos and that which can't be looked upon. All with regard to the +Ambassador, of course."</p> + +<p>"The Ambassador can't look upon chaos!" Malley cried.</p> + +<p>"That's it. The Ambassador is capable of an infinite number of +alterations and permutations. But <i>something</i>—the matrix—can't +change, because then there would be nothing left. To destroy something +as abstract as a pattern, we need a state in which no pattern is +possible. A state of chaos."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/image_005.jpg" width="300" height="627" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>The third disrupter was thrown into circuit. The graph looked as if a +drunken caterpillar had been sketching on it.</p> + +<p>"Those disrupters are Harrison's idea," Cercy said. "I told him I +wanted an electrical current with absolutely no coherent pattern. The +disrupters are an extension of radio jamming. The first alters the +electrical pattern. That's its purpose: to produce a state of +patternlessness. The second tries to destroy the pattern left by the +first; the third tries to destroy the pattern made by the first two. +They're fed back then, and any remaining pattern is systematically +destroyed in circuit ... I hope."</p> + +<p>"This is supposed to produce a state of chaos?" Malley asked, looking +into the screen.</p> + +<p>For a while there was only the whining of the machines and the crazy +doodling of the graph. Then, in the middle of the Ambassador's room, a +spot appeared. It wavered, shrunk, expanded—</p> + +<p>What happened was indescribable. All they knew was that everything +within the spot had disappeared.</p> + +<p>"Switch it off" Cercy shouted. Harrison cut the switch.</p> + +<p>The spot continued to grow.</p> + +<p>"How is it we're able to look at it?" Malley asked, staring at the +screen.</p> + +<p>"The shield of Perseus, remember?" Cercy said. "Using it as a mirror, +he could look at Medusa."</p> + +<p>"It's still growing!" Malley shouted.</p> + +<p>"There was a calculated risk in all this," Cercy said. "There's always +the possibility that the chaos may go on, unchecked. If that happens, +it won't matter much what—"</p> + +<p>The spot stopped growing. Its edges wavered and rippled, and then it +started to shrink.</p> + +<p>"The organizing principle," Cercy said, and collapsed into a chair.</p> + +<p>"Any sign of the Ambassador?" he asked, in a few minutes.</p> + +<p>The spot was still wavering. Then it was gone. Instantly there was an +explosion. The steel walls buckled inward, but held. The screen went +dead.</p> + +<p>"The spot removed all the air from the room," Cercy explained, "as +well as the furniture and the Ambassador."</p> + +<p>"He couldn't take it," Malley said. "No pattern can cohere, in a state +of patternlessness. He's gone to join Alfern."</p> + +<p>Malley started to giggle. Cercy felt like joining him, but pulled +himself together.</p> + +<p>"Take it easy," he said. "We're not through yet."</p> + +<p>"Sure we are! The Ambassador—"</p> + +<p>"Is out of the way. But there's still an alien fleet homing in on this +region of space. A fleet so strong we couldn't scratch it with an +H-bomb. They'll be looking for us."</p> + +<p>He stood up.</p> + +<p>"Go home and get some sleep. Something tells me that tomorrow we're +going to have to start figuring out some way of camouflaging a +planet."</p> + +<p class="p4"><b>—ROBERT SHECKLEY</b></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Diplomatic Immunity, by Robert Sheckley + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY *** + +***** This file should be named 32040-h.htm or 32040-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/0/4/32040/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Diplomatic Immunity + +Author: Robert Sheckley + +Illustrator: Ashman + +Release Date: April 18, 2010 [EBook #32040] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction August 1953. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. + + + diplomatic immunity + + + By ROBERT SHECKLEY + + + Illustrated by ASHMAN + + + _He said he wasn't immortal--but nothing could kill him. + Still, if the Earth was to live as a free world, he had to + die._ + + * * * * * + + + + +"Come right in, gentlemen," the Ambassador waved them into the very +special suite the State Department had given him. "Please be seated." + +Colonel Cercy accepted a chair, trying to size up the individual who +had all Washington chewing its fingernails. The Ambassador hardly +looked like a menace. He was of medium height and slight build, +dressed in a conservative brown tweed suit that the State Department +had given him. His face was intelligent, finely molded and aloof. + +_As human as a human_, Cercy thought, studying the alien with bleak, +impersonal eyes. + +"How may I serve you?" the Ambassador asked, smiling. + +"The President has put me in charge of your case," Cercy said. "I've +studied Professor Darrig's reports--" he nodded at the scientist +beside him--"but I'd like to hear the whole thing for myself." + +"Of course," the alien said, lighting a cigarette. He seemed genuinely +pleased to be asked; which was interesting, Cercy thought. In the week +since he had landed, every important scientist in the country had been +at him. + +_But in a pinch they call the Army_, Cercy reminded himself. He +settled back in his chair, both hands jammed carelessly in his +pockets. His right hand was resting on the butt of a .45, the safety +off. + + * * * * * + +"I have come," the alien said, "as an ambassador-at-large, +representing an empire that stretches half-way across the Galaxy. I +wish to extend the welcome of my people and to invite you to join our +organization." + +"I see," Cercy replied. "Some of the scientists got the impression +that participation was compulsory." + +"You will join," the Ambassador said, blowing smoke through his +nostrils. + +Cercy could see Darrig stiffen in his chair and bite his lip. Cercy +moved the automatic to a position where he could draw it easily. "How +did you find us?" he asked. + +"We ambassadors-at-large are each assigned an unexplored section of +space," the alien said. "We examine each star-system in that region +for planets, and each planet for intelligent life. Intelligent life is +rare in the Galaxy, you know." + +Cercy nodded, although he hadn't been aware of the fact. + +"When we find such a planet, we land, as I did, and prepare the +inhabitants for their part in our organization." + +"How will your people know that you have found intelligent life?" +Cercy asked. + +"There is a sending mechanism that is part of our structure," the +Ambassador answered. "It is triggered when we reach an inhabited +planet. This signal is beamed continually into space, to an effective +range of several thousand light-years. Follow-up crews are continually +sweeping through the limits of the reception area of each Ambassador, +listening for such messages. Detecting one, a colonizing team follows +it to the planet." + +He tapped his cigarette delicately on the edge of an ash tray. "This +method has definite advantages over sending combined colonization and +exploration teams obviously. It avoids the necessity of equipping +large forces for what may be decades of searching." + +"Sure." Cercy's face was expressionless. "Would you tell me more about +this message?" + +"There isn't much more you need know. The beam is not detectable by +your methods and, therefore, cannot be jammed. The message continues +as long as I am alive." + + * * * * * + +Darrig drew in his breath sharply, glancing at Cercy. + +"If you stopped broadcasting," Cercy said casually, "our planet would +never be found." + +"Not until this section of space was resurveyed," the diplomat agreed. + +"Very well. As a duly appointed representative of the President of the +United States, I ask you to stop transmitting. We don't choose to +become part of your empire." + +"I'm sorry," the Ambassador said. He shrugged his shoulders easily. +Cercy wondered how many times he had played this scene on how many +other planets. + +"There's really nothing I can do." He stood up. + +"Then you won't stop?" + +"I can't. I have no control over the sending, once it's activated." +The diplomat turned and walked to the window. "However, I have +prepared a philosophy for you. It is my duty, as your Ambassador, to +ease the shock of transition as much as possible. This philosophy will +make it instantly apparent that--" + +As the Ambassador reached the window, Cercy's gun was out of his +pocket and roaring. He squeezed six rounds in almost a single +explosion, aiming at the Ambassador's head and back. Then an +uncontrollable shudder ran through him. + +The Ambassador was no longer there! + + * * * * * + +Cercy and Darrig stared at each other. Darrig muttered something about +ghosts. Then, just as suddenly, the Ambassador was back. + +"You didn't think," he said, "that it would be as easy as all that, +did you? We Ambassadors have, necessarily, a certain diplomatic +immunity." He fingered one of the bullet holes in the wall. "In case +you don't understand, let me put it this way. It is not in your power +to kill me. You couldn't even understand the nature of my defense." + +He looked at them, and in that moment Cercy felt the Ambassador's +complete alienness. + +"Good day, gentlemen," he said. + +Darrig and Cercy walked silently back to the control room. Neither had +really expected that the Ambassador would be killed so easily, but it +had still been a shock when the slugs had failed. + +"I suppose you saw it all, Malley?" Cercy asked, when he reached the +control room. + +The thin, balding psychiatrist nodded sadly. "Got it on film, too." + +"I wonder what his philosophy is," Darrig mused, half to himself. + +"It was illogical to expect it would work. No race would send an +ambassador with a message like that and expect him to live through it. +Unless--" + +"Unless what?" + +"Unless he had a pretty effective defense," the psychiatrist finished +unhappily. + +Cercy walked across the room and looked at the video panel. The +Ambassador's suite was very special. It had been hurriedly constructed +two days after he had landed and delivered his message. The suite was +steel and lead lined, filled with video and movie cameras, recorders, +and a variety of other things. + +It was the last word in elaborate death cells. + +In the screen, Cercy could see the Ambassador sitting at a table. He +was typing on a little portable the Government had given him. + +"Hey, Harrison!" Cercy called. "Might as well go ahead with Plan Two." + +Harrison came out of a side room where he had been examining the +circuits leading to the Ambassador's suite. Methodically he checked +his pressure gauges, set the controls and looked at Cercy. "Now?" he +asked. + +"Now." Cercy watched the screen. The Ambassador was still typing. + +Suddenly, as Harrison sent home the switch, the room was engulfed in +flames. Fire blasted out of concealed holes in the walls, poured from +the ceiling and floor. + +In a moment, the room was like the inside of a blast furnace. + +Cercy let it burn for two minutes, then motioned Harrison to cut the +switch. They stared at the roasted room. + +They were looking, hopefully, for a charred corpse. + +But the Ambassador reappeared beside his desk, looking ruefully at the +charred typewriter. He was completely unsinged. + +"Could you get me another typewriter?" he asked, looking directly at +one of the hidden projectors. "I'm setting down a philosophy for you +ungrateful wretches." + +He seated himself in the wreckage of an armchair. In a moment, he was +apparently asleep. + + * * * * * + +"All right, everyone grab a seat," Cercy said. "Time for a council of +war." + +Malley straddled a chair backward. Harrison lighted a pipe as he sat +down, slowly puffing it into life. + +"Now, then," Cercy said. "The Government has dropped this squarely in +our laps. We have to kill the Ambassador--obviously. I've been put in +charge." Cercy grinned with regret. "Probably because no one higher up +wants the responsibility of failure. And I've selected you three as my +staff. We can have anything we want, any assistance or advice we need. +All right. Any ideas?" + +"How about Plan Three?" Harrison asked. + +"We'll get to that," Cercy said. "But I don't believe it's going to +work." + +"I don't either," Darrig agreed. "We don't even know the nature of his +defense." + +"That's the first order of business. Malley, take all our data so far, +and get someone to feed it into the Derichman Analyzer. You know the +stuff we want. What properties has X, if X can do thus and thus?" + +"Right," Malley said. He left, muttering something about the +ascendancy of the physical sciences. + +"Harrison," Cercy asked, "is Plan Three set up?" + +"Sure." + +"Give it a try." + +While Harrison was making his last adjustments, Cercy watched Darrig. +The plump little physicist was staring thoughtfully into space, +muttering to himself. Cercy hoped he would come up with something. He +was expecting great things of Darrig. + +Knowing the impossibility of working with great numbers of people, +Cercy had picked his staff with care. Quality was what he wanted. + +With that in mind, he had chosen Harrison first. The stocky, +sour-faced engineer had a reputation for being able to build anything, +given half an idea of how it worked. + +Cercy had selected Malley, the psychiatrist, because he wasn't sure +that killing the Ambassador was going to be a purely physical problem. + +Darrig was a mathematical physicist, but his restless, curious mind +had come up with some interesting theories in other fields. He was the +only one of the four who was really interested in the Ambassador as an +intellectual problem. + +"He's like Metal Old Man," Darrig said finally. + +"What's that?" + +"Haven't you ever heard the story of Metal Old Man? Well, he was a +monster covered with black metal armor. He was met by Monster-Slayer, +an Apache culture hero. Monster-Slayer, after many attempts, finally +killed Metal Old Man." + +"How did he do it?" + +"Shot him in the armpit. He didn't have any armor there." + +"Fine," Cercy grinned. "Ask our Ambassador to raise his arm." + +"All set!" Harrison called. + +"Fine. Go." + +In the Ambassador's room, an invisible spray of gamma rays silently +began to flood the room with deadly radiation. + +But there was no Ambassador to receive them. + +"That's enough," Cercy said, after a while. "That would kill a herd of +elephants." + +But the Ambassador stayed invisible for five hours, until some of the +radioactivity had abated. Then he appeared again. + +"I'm still waiting for that typewriter," he said. + + * * * * * + +"Here's the Analyzer's report." Malley handed Cercy a sheaf of papers. +"This is the final formulation, boiled down." + +Cercy read it aloud: "The simplest defense against any and all +weapons, is to _become_ each particular weapon." + +"Great," Harrison said. "What does it mean?" + +"It means," Darrig explained, "that when we attack the Ambassador with +fire, he turns into fire. Shoot at him, and he turns into a +bullet--until the menace is gone, and then he changes back again." He +took the papers out of Cercy's hand and riffled through them. + +"Hmm. Wonder if there's any historical parallel? Don't suppose so." He +raised his head. "Although this isn't conclusive, it seems logical +enough. Any other defense would involve recognition of the weapon +first, then an appraisal, then a countermove predicated on the +potentialities of the weapon. The Ambassador's defense would be a lot +faster and safer. He wouldn't have to recognize the weapon. I suppose +his body simply _identifies_, in some way, with the menace at hand." + +"Did the Analyzer say there was any way of breaking this defense?" +Cercy asked. + +"The Analyzer stated definitely that there was no way, if the premise +were true," Malley answered gloomily. + +"We can discard that judgment," Darrig said. "The machine is limited." + +"But we still haven't got any way of stopping him," Malley pointed +out. "And he's still broadcasting that beam." + +Cercy thought for a moment. "Call in every expert you can find. We're +going to throw the book at the Ambassador. I know," he said, looking +at Darrig's dubious expression, "but we have to try." + + * * * * * + +During the next few days, every combination and permutation of death +was thrown at the Ambassador. He was showered with weapons, ranging +from Stone-Age axes to modern high-powered rifles, peppered with hand +grenades, drowned in acid, suffocated in poison gas. + +He kept shrugging his shoulders philosophically, and continued to work +on the new typewriter they had given him. + +Bacteria was piped in, first the known germ diseases, then mutated +species. + +The diplomat didn't even sneeze. + +He was showered with electricity, radiation, wooden weapons, iron +weapons, copper weapons, brass weapons, uranium weapons--anything and +everything, just to cover all possibilities. + +He didn't suffer a scratch, but his room looked as though a bar-room +brawl had been going on in it continually for fifty years. + +Malley was working on an idea of his own, as was Darrig. The physicist +interrupted himself long enough to remind Cercy of the Baldur myth. +Baldur had been showered with every kind of weapon and remained +unscathed, because everything on Earth had promised to love him. +Everything, except the mistletoe. When a little twig of it was shot at +him, he died. + +Cercy turned away impatiently, but had an order of mistletoe sent up, +just in case. + +It was, at least, no less effective than the explosive shells or the +bow and arrow. It did nothing except lend an oddly festive air to the +battered room. + +After a week of this, they moved the unprotesting Ambassador into a +newer, bigger, stronger death cell. They were unable to venture into +his old one because of the radioactivity and micro-organisms. + +The Ambassador went back to work at his typewriter. All his previous +attempts had been burned, torn or eaten away. + +"Let's go talk to him," Darrig suggested, after another day had +passed. Cercy agreed. For the moment, they were out of ideas. + + * * * * * + +"Come right in, gentlemen," the Ambassador said, so cheerfully that +Cercy felt sick. "I'm sorry I can't offer you anything. Through an +oversight, I haven't been given any food or water for about ten days. +Not that it matters, of course." + +"Glad to hear it," Cercy said. The Ambassador hardly looked as if he +had been facing all the violence Earth had to offer. On the contrary, +Cercy and his men looked as though they had been under bombardment. + +"You've got quite a defense there," Malley said conversationally. + +"Glad you like it." + +"Would you mind telling us how it works?" Darrig asked innocently. + +"Don't you know?" + +"We think so. You become what is attacking you. Is that right?" + +"Certainly," the Ambassador said. "You see, I have no secrets from +you." + +"Is there anything we can give you," Cercy asked, "to get you to turn +off that signal?" + +"A bribe?" + +"Sure," Cercy said. "Anything you--?" + +"Nothing," the Ambassador replied. + +"Look, be reasonable," Harrison said. "You don't want to cause a war, +do you? Earth is united now. We're arming--" + +"With what?" + +"Atom bombs," Malley answered him. "Hydrogen bombs. We're--" + +"Drop one on me," the Ambassador said. "It wouldn't kill me. What +makes you think it will have any effect on my people?" + + * * * * * + +The four men were silent. Somehow, they hadn't thought of that. + +"A people's ability to make war," the Ambassador stated, "is a measure +of the status of their civilization. Stage one is the use of simple +physical extensions. Stage two is control at the molecular level. You +are on the threshold of stage three, although still far from mastery +of atomic and subatomic forces." He smiled ingratiatingly. "My people +are reaching the limits of stage five." + +"What would that be?" Darrig asked. + +"You'll find out," the Ambassador said. "But perhaps you've wondered +if my powers are typical? I don't mind telling you that they're not. +In order for me to do my job and nothing more, I have certain built-in +restrictions, making me capable only of passive action." + +"Why?" Darrig asked. + +"For obvious reasons. If I were to take positive action in a moment of +anger, I might destroy your entire planet." + +"Do you expect us to believe that?" Cercy asked. + +"Why not? Is it so hard to understand? Can't you believe that there +are forces you know nothing about? And there is another reason for my +passiveness. Certainly by this time you've deduced it?" + +"To break our spirit, I suppose," Cercy said. + +"Exactly. My telling you won't make any difference, either. The +pattern is always the same. An Ambassador lands and delivers his +message to a high-spirited, wild young race like yours. There is +frenzied resistance against him, spasmodic attempts to kill him. After +all these fail, the people are usually quite crestfallen. When the +colonization team arrives, their indoctrination goes along just that +much faster." He paused, then said, "Most planets are more interested +in the philosophy I have to offer. I assure you, it will make the +transition far easier." + +He held out a sheaf of typewritten pages. "Won't you at least look +through it?" + +Darrig accepted the papers and put them in his pocket. "When I get +time." + +"I suggest you give it a try," the Ambassador said. "You must be near +the crisis point now. Why not give it up?" + +"Not yet," Cercy replied tonelessly. + +"Don't forget to read the philosophy," the Ambassador urged them. + +The men hurried from the room. + + * * * * * + +"Now look," Malley said, once they were back in the control room, +"there are a few things we haven't tried. How about utilizing +psychology?" + +"Anything you like," Cercy agreed, "including black magic. What did +you have in mind?" + +"The way I see it," Malley answered, "the Ambassador is geared to +respond, instantaneously, to any threat. He must have an +all-or-nothing defensive reflex. I suggest first that we try something +that won't trigger that reflex." + +"Like what?" Cercy asked. + +"Hypnotism. Perhaps we can find out something." + +"Sure," Cercy said. "Try it. Try anything." + +Cercy, Malley and Darrig gathered around the video screen as an +infinitesimal amount of a light hypnotic gas was admitted into the +Ambassador's room. At the same time, a bolt of electricity lashed into +the chair where the Ambassador was sitting. + +"That was to distract him," Malley explained. The Ambassador vanished +before the electricity struck him, and then appeared again, curled up +in his armchair. + +"That's enough," Malley whispered, and shut the valve. They watched. +After a while, the Ambassador put down his book and stared into the +distance. + +"How strange," he said. "Alfern dead. Good friend ... just a freak +accident. He ran into it, out there. Didn't have a chance. But it +doesn't happen often." + +"He's thinking out loud," Malley whispered, although there was no +possibility of the Ambassador's hearing them. "Vocalizing his +thoughts. His friend must have been on his mind for some time." + +"Of course," the Ambassador went on, "Alfern had to die sometime. No +immortality--yet. But that way--no defense. Out there in space they +just pop up. Always there, underneath, just waiting for a chance to +boil out." + +"His body isn't reacting to the hypnotic as a menace yet," Cercy +whispered. + +"Well," the Ambassador told himself, "the regularizing principle has +been doing pretty well, keeping it all down, smoothing out the +inconsistencies--" + +Suddenly he leaped to his feet, his face pale for a moment, as he +obviously tried to remember what he had said. Then he laughed. + +"Clever. That's the first time that particular trick has been played +on me, and the last time. But, gentlemen, it didn't do you any good. I +don't know, myself, how to go about killing me." He laughed at the +blank walls. + +"Besides," he continued, "the colonizing team must have the direction +now. They'll find you with or without me." + +He sat down again, smiling. + + * * * * * + +"That does it!" Darrig cried. "He's not invulnerable. Something killed +his friend Alfern." + +"Something out in space," Cercy reminded him. "I wonder what it was." + +"Let me see," Darrig reflected aloud. "The regularizing principle. +That must be a natural law we knew nothing about. And underneath--what +would be underneath?" + +"He said the colonization team would find us anyhow," Malley reminded +them. + +"First things first," Cercy said. "He might have been bluffing us ... +no, I don't suppose so. We still have to get the Ambassador out of the +way." + +"I think I know what is underneath!" Darrig exclaimed. "This is +wonderful. A new cosmology, perhaps." + +"What is it?" Cercy asked. "Anything we can use?" + +"I think so. But let me work it out. I think I'll go back to my hotel. +I have some books there I want to check, and I don't want to be +disturbed for a few hours." + +"All right," Cercy agreed. "But what--?" + +[Illustration] + +"No, no, I could be wrong," Darrig said. "Let me work it out." He +hurried from the room. + +"What do you think he's driving at?" Malley asked. + +"Beats me," Cercy shrugged. "Come on, let's try some more of that +psychological stuff." + +First they filled the Ambassador's room with several feet of water. +Not enough to drown him, just enough to make him good and +uncomfortable. + +To this, they added the lights. For eight hours, lights flashed in the +Ambassador's room. Bright lights to pry under his eyelids; dull, +clashing ones to disturb him. + +Sound came next--screeches and screams and shrill, grating noises. The +sound of a man's fingernails being dragged across slate, amplified a +thousand times, and strange, sucking noises, and shouts and whispers. + +Then, the smells. Then, everything else they could think of that could +drive a man insane. + +The Ambassador slept peacefully through it all. + + * * * * * + +"Now look," Cercy said, the following day, "let's start using our +damned heads." His voice was hoarse and rough. Although the +psychological torture hadn't bothered the Ambassador, it seemed to +have backfired on Cercy and his men. + +"Where in hell is Darrig?" + +"Still working on that idea of his," Malley said, rubbing his stubbled +chin. "Says he's just about got it." + +"We'll work on the assumption that he can't produce," Cercy said. +"Start thinking. For example, if the Ambassador can turn into +anything, what is there he can't turn into?" + +"Good question," Harrison grunted. + +"It's the payoff question," Cercy said. "No use throwing a spear at a +man who can turn into one." + +"How about this?" Malley asked. "Taking it for granted he can turn +into anything, how about putting him in a situation where he'll be +attacked even _after_ he alters?" + +"I'm listening," Cercy said. + +"Say he's in danger. He turns into the thing threatening him. What if +_that thing_ were itself being threatened? And, in turn, was in the +act of threatening something else? What would he do then?" + +"How are you going to put that into action?" Cercy asked. + +"Like this." Malley picked up the telephone. "Hello? Give me the +Washington Zoo. This is urgent." + +The Ambassador turned as the door opened. An unwilling, angry, hungry +tiger was propelled in. The door slammed shut. + +The tiger looked at the Ambassador. The Ambassador looked at the +tiger. + +"Most ingenious," the Ambassador said. + +At the sound of his voice, the tiger came unglued. He sprang like a +steel spring uncoiling, landing on the floor where the Ambassador had +been. + +The door opened again. Another tiger was pushed in. He snarled angrily +and leaped at the first. They smashed together in midair. + +The Ambassador appeared a few feet off, watching. He moved back when a +lion entered the door, head up and alert. The lion sprang at him, +almost going over on his head when he struck nothing. Not finding any +human, the lion leaped on one of the tigers. + +The Ambassador reappeared in his chair, where he sat smoking and +watching the beasts kill each other. + +In ten minutes the room looked like an abattoir. + +But by then the Ambassador had tired of the spectacle, and was +reclining on his bed, reading. + + * * * * * + +"I give up," Malley said. "That was my last bright idea." + +Cercy stared at the floor, not answering. Harrison was seated in the +corner, getting quietly drunk. + +The telephone rang. + +"Yeah?" Cercy said. + +"I've got it!" Darrig's voice shouted over the line. "I really think +this is it. Look, I'm taking a cab right down. Tell Harrison to find +some helpers." + +"What is it?" Cercy asked. + +"The chaos underneath!" Darrig replied, and hung up. + +They paced the floor, waiting for him to show up. Half an hour passed, +then an hour. Finally, three hours after he had called, Darrig +strolled in. + +"Hello," he said casually. + +"Hello, hell!" Cercy growled. "What kept you?" + +"On the way over," Darrig said, "I read the Ambassador's philosophy. +It's quite a work." + +"Is that what took you so long?" + +"Yes. I had the driver take me around the park a few times, while I +was reading it." + +"Skip it. How about--" + +"I can't skip it," Darrig said, in a strange, tight voice. "I'm afraid +we were wrong. About the aliens, I mean. It's perfectly right and +proper that they should rule us. As a matter of fact, I wish they'd +hurry up and get here." + +But Darrig didn't look certain. His voice shook and perspiration +poured from his face. He twisted his hands together, as though in +agony. + +"It's hard to explain," he said. "Everything became clear as soon as I +started reading it. I saw how stupid we were, trying to be +independent in this interdependent Universe. I saw--oh, look, Cercy. +Let's stop all this foolishness and accept the Ambassador as our +friend." + +"Calm down!" Cercy shouted at the perfectly calm physicist. "You don't +know what you're saying." + +"It's strange," Darrig said. "I know how I felt--I just don't feel +that way any more. I think. Anyhow, I know _your_ trouble. You haven't +read the philosophy. You'll see what I mean, once you've read it." He +handed Cercy the pile of papers. Cercy promptly ignited them with his +cigarette lighter. + +"It doesn't matter," Darrig said. "I've got it memorized. Just listen. +Axiom one. All peoples--" + +Cercy hit him, a short, clean blow, and Darrig slumped to the floor. + +"Those words must be semantically keyed," Malley said. "They're +designed to set off certain reactions in us, I suppose. All the +Ambassador does is alter the philosophy to suit the peoples he's +dealing with." + +"Look, Malley," Cercy said. "This is your job now. Darrig knows, or +thought he knew, the answer. You have to get that out of him." + +"That won't be easy," Malley said. "He'd feel that he was betraying +everything he believes in, if he were to tell us." + +"I don't care how you get it," Cercy said. "Just get it." + +"Even if it kills him?" Malley asked. + +"Even if it kills you." + +"Help me get him to my lab," Malley said. + + * * * * * + +That night Cercy and Harrison kept watch on the Ambassador from the +control room. Cercy found his thoughts were racing in circles. + +What had killed Alfern in space? Could it be duplicated on Earth? What +was the regularizing principle? What was the chaos underneath? + +_What in hell am I doing here?_ he asked himself. But he couldn't +start that sort of thing. + +"What do you figure the Ambassador is?" he asked Harrison. "Is he a +man?" + +"Looks like one," Harrison said drowsily. + +"But he doesn't act like one. I wonder if this is his true shape?" + +Harrison shook his head, and lighted his pipe. + +"What is there of him?" Cercy asked. "He looks like a man, but he can +change into anything else. You can't attack him; he adapts. He's like +water, taking the shape of any vessel he's poured into." + +"You can boil water," Harrison yawned. + +"Sure. Water hasn't any shape, has it? Or has it? What's basic?" + +With an effort, Harrison tried to focus on Cercy's words. "Molecular +pattern? The matrix?" + +"Matrix," Cercy repeated, yawning himself. "Pattern. Must be something +like that. A pattern is abstract, isn't it?" + +"Sure. A pattern can be impressed on anything. What did I say?" + +"Let's see," Cercy said. "Pattern. Matrix. Everything about the +Ambassador is capable of change. There must be some unifying force +that retains his personality. Something that _doesn't_ change, no +matter what contortions he goes through." + +"Like a piece of string," Harrison murmured with his eyes closed. + +"Sure. Tie it in knots, weave a rope out of it, wind it around your +finger; it's still string." + +"Yeah." + +"But how do you attack a pattern?" Cercy asked. And why couldn't he +get some sleep? To hell with the Ambassador and his hordes of +colonists, he was going to close his eyes for a moment.... + + * * * * * + +"Wake up, Colonel!" + +Cercy pried his eyes open and looked up at Malley. Besides him, +Harrison was snoring deeply. "Did you get anything?" + +"Not a thing," Malley confessed. "The philosophy must've had quite an +effect on him. But it didn't work all the way. Darrig knew that he +_had wanted_ to kill the Ambassador, and for good and sufficient +reasons. Although he felt differently now, he still had the feeling +that he was betraying us. On the one hand, he couldn't hurt the +Ambassador; on the other, he wouldn't hurt us." + +"Won't he tell anything?" + +"I'm afraid it's not that simple," Malley said. "You know, if you have +an insurmountable obstacle that _must_ be surmounted ... and also, I +think the philosophy had an injurious effect on his mind." + +"What are you trying to say?" Cercy got to his feet. + +"I'm sorry," Malley apologized, "there wasn't a damned thing I could +do. Darrig fought the whole thing out in his mind, and when he +couldn't fight any longer, he--retreated. I'm afraid he's hopelessly +insane." + +"Let's see him." + +They walked down the corridor to Malley's laboratory. Darrig was +relaxed on a couch, his eyes glazed and staring. + +"Is there any way of curing him?" Cercy asked. + +"Shock therapy, maybe." Malley was dubious. "It'll take a long time. +And he'll probably block out everything that had to do with producing +this." + +Cercy turned away, feeling sick. Even if Darrig could be cured, it +would be too late. The aliens must have picked up the Ambassador's +message by now and were undoubtedly heading for Earth. + +"What's this?" Cercy asked, picking up a piece of paper that lay by +Darrig's hand. + +"Oh, he was doodling," Malley said. "Is there anything written on it?" + +Cercy read aloud: "'Upon further consideration I can see that Chaos +and the Gorgon Medusa are closely related.'" + +"What does that mean?" Malley asked. + +"I don't know," Cercy puzzled. "He was always interested in folklore." + +"Sounds schizophrenic," the psychiatrist said. + +Cercy read it again. "'Upon further consideration, I can see that +Chaos and the Gorgon Medusa are closely related.'" He stared at it. +"Isn't it possible," he asked Malley, "that he was trying to give us a +clue? Trying to trick himself into giving and not giving at the same +time?" + +"It's possible," Malley agreed. "An unsuccessful compromise--But what +could it mean?" + +"Chaos." Cercy remembered Darrig's mentioning that word in his +telephone call. "That was the original state of the Universe in Greek +myth, wasn't it? The formlessness out of which everything came?" + +"Something like that," Malley said. "And Medusa was one of those three +sisters with the horrible faces." + +Cercy stood for a moment, staring at the paper. Chaos ... Medusa ... +and the organizing principle! Of course! + +"I think--" He turned and ran from the room. Malley looked at him; +then loaded a hypodermic and followed. + + * * * * * + +In the control room, Cercy shouted Harrison into consciousness. + +"Listen," he said, "I want you to build something, quick. Do you hear +me?" + +"Sure." Harrison blinked and sat up. "What's the rush?" + +"I know what Darrig wanted to tell us," Cercy said. "Come on, I'll +tell you what I want. And Malley, put down that hypodermic. I haven't +cracked. I want you to get me a book on Greek mythology. And hurry it +up." + +Finding a Greek mythology isn't an easy task at two o'clock in the +morning. With the aid of FBI men, Malley routed a book dealer out of +bed. He got his book and hurried back. + +Cercy was red-eyed and excited, and Harrison and his helpers were +working away at three crazy looking rigs. Cercy snatched the book from +Malley, looked up one item, and put it down. + +"Great work," he said. "We're all set now. Finished, Harrison?" + +"Just about." Harrison and ten helpers were screwing in the last +parts. "Will you tell me what this is?" + +"Me too," Malley put in. + +"I don't mean to be secretive," Cercy said. "I'm just in a hurry. I'll +explain as we go along." He stood up. "Okay, let's wake up the +Ambassador." + + * * * * * + +They watched the screen as a bolt of electricity leaped from the +ceiling to the Ambassador's bed. Immediately, the Ambassador vanished. + +"Now he's a part of that stream of electrons, right?" Cercy asked. + +"That's what he told us," Malley said. + +"But still keeping his pattern, within the stream," Cercy continued. +"He has to, in order to get back into his own shape. Now we start the +first disrupter." + +Harrison hooked the machine into circuit, and sent his helpers away. + +"Here's a running graph of the electron stream," Cercy said. "See the +difference?" On the graph there was an irregular series of peaks and +valleys, constantly shifting and leveling. "Do you remember when you +hypnotized the Ambassador? He talked about his friend who'd been +killed in space." + +"That's right," Malley nodded. "His friend had been killed by +something that had just popped up." + +"He said something else," Cercy went on. "He told us that the basic +organizing force of the Universe usually stopped things like that. +What does that mean to you?" + +"The organizing force," Malley repeated slowly. "Didn't Darrig say +that that was a new natural law?" + +"He did. But think of the implications, as Darrig did. If an +organizing principle is engaged in some work, there must be something +that opposes it. That which opposes organization is--" + +"Chaos!" + +"That's what Darrig thought, and what we should have seen. The chaos +is underlying, and out of it there arose an organizing principle. This +principle, if I've got it right, sought to suppress the fundamental +chaos, to make all things regular. + +"But the chaos still boils out in spots, as Alfern found out. Perhaps +the organizational pattern is weaker in space. Anyhow, those spots are +dangerous, until the organizing principle gets to work on them." + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +He turned to the panel. "Okay, Harrison. Throw in the second +disrupter." The peaks and valleys altered on the graph. They started +to mount in crazy, meaningless configurations. + +"Take Darrig's message in the light of that. Chaos, we know, is +underlying. Everything was formed out of it. The Gorgon Medusa was +something that _couldn't be looked upon_. She turned men into stone, +you recall, destroyed them. So, Darrig found a relationship between +chaos and that which can't be looked upon. All with regard to the +Ambassador, of course." + +"The Ambassador can't look upon chaos!" Malley cried. + +"That's it. The Ambassador is capable of an infinite number of +alterations and permutations. But _something_--the matrix--can't +change, because then there would be nothing left. To destroy something +as abstract as a pattern, we need a state in which no pattern is +possible. A state of chaos." + +The third disrupter was thrown into circuit. The graph looked as if a +drunken caterpillar had been sketching on it. + +"Those disrupters are Harrison's idea," Cercy said. "I told him I +wanted an electrical current with absolutely no coherent pattern. The +disrupters are an extension of radio jamming. The first alters the +electrical pattern. That's its purpose: to produce a state of +patternlessness. The second tries to destroy the pattern left by the +first; the third tries to destroy the pattern made by the first two. +They're fed back then, and any remaining pattern is systematically +destroyed in circuit ... I hope." + +"This is supposed to produce a state of chaos?" Malley asked, looking +into the screen. + +For a while there was only the whining of the machines and the crazy +doodling of the graph. Then, in the middle of the Ambassador's room, a +spot appeared. It wavered, shrunk, expanded-- + +What happened was indescribable. All they knew was that everything +within the spot had disappeared. + +"Switch it off" Cercy shouted. Harrison cut the switch. + +The spot continued to grow. + +"How is it we're able to look at it?" Malley asked, staring at the +screen. + +"The shield of Perseus, remember?" Cercy said. "Using it as a mirror, +he could look at Medusa." + +"It's still growing!" Malley shouted. + +"There was a calculated risk in all this," Cercy said. "There's always +the possibility that the chaos may go on, unchecked. If that happens, +it won't matter much what--" + +The spot stopped growing. Its edges wavered and rippled, and then it +started to shrink. + +"The organizing principle," Cercy said, and collapsed into a chair. + +"Any sign of the Ambassador?" he asked, in a few minutes. + +The spot was still wavering. Then it was gone. Instantly there was an +explosion. The steel walls buckled inward, but held. The screen went +dead. + +"The spot removed all the air from the room," Cercy explained, "as +well as the furniture and the Ambassador." + +"He couldn't take it," Malley said. "No pattern can cohere, in a state +of patternlessness. He's gone to join Alfern." + +Malley started to giggle. Cercy felt like joining him, but pulled +himself together. + +"Take it easy," he said. "We're not through yet." + +"Sure we are! The Ambassador--" + +"Is out of the way. But there's still an alien fleet homing in on this +region of space. A fleet so strong we couldn't scratch it with an +H-bomb. They'll be looking for us." + +He stood up. + +"Go home and get some sleep. Something tells me that tomorrow we're +going to have to start figuring out some way of camouflaging a +planet." + + --ROBERT SHECKLEY + + * * * * * + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Diplomatic Immunity, by Robert Sheckley + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY *** + +***** This file should be named 32040.txt or 32040.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/0/4/32040/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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