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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..05a85fa --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51814 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51814) diff --git a/old/51814-8.txt b/old/51814-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 672de18..0000000 --- a/old/51814-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7765 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Preferred Risk, by Edson McCann - -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/license - - -Title: Preferred Risk - -Author: Edson McCann - -Release Date: April 21, 2016 [EBook #51814] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PREFERRED RISK *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - -PREFERRED RISK - -By EDSON McCANN - -Illustrated by KOSSIN - -[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from -Galaxy Science Fiction June, July, August, September 1955. -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - -Winner of the $6,500 Galaxy-Simon & Schuster novel contest, -this taut suspense story asks the challenging question: how -dangerous would it be to live in a rigidly risk-free world? - - -The liner from Port Lyautey was comfortable and slick, but I was -leaning forward in my seat as we came in over Naples. I had been on -edge all the way across the Atlantic. Now as the steward came through -the compartments to pick up our Blue Plate ration coupons for the -trip, I couldn't help feeling annoyed that I hadn't eaten the food -they represented. For the Company wanted everyone to get the fullest -possible benefit out of his policies--not only the food policies, but -Blue Blanket, Blue Bolt and all the others. - -We _whooshed_ in to a landing at Carmody Field, just outside of -Naples. My baggage was checked through, so I didn't expect to have any -difficulty clearing past the truce-team Customs inspectors. It was only -a matter of turning over my baggage checks, and boarding the _rapido_ -that would take me into Naples. - -But my luck was low. The man before me was a fussbudget who insisted on -carrying his own bags, and I had to stand behind him a quarter of an -hour, while the truce-teams geigered his socks and pajamas. - -While I fidgeted, though, I noticed that the Customs shed had, high -up on one wall, a heroic-sized bust of Millen Carmody himself. Just -standing there, under that benevolent smile, made me feel better. I -even managed to nod politely to the traveler ahead of me as he finally -got through the gate and let me step up to the uniformed Company -expediter who checked my baggage tickets. - -And the expediter gave me an unexpected thrill. He leafed through -my papers, then stepped back and gave me a sharp military salute. -"Proceed, Adjuster Wills," he said, returning my travel orders. It -hadn't been like that at the transfer point at Port Lyautey--not even -back at the Home Office in New York. But here we were in Naples, and -the little war was not yet forgotten; we were under Company law, and I -was an officer of the Company. - -It was all I needed to restore my tranquility. But it didn't last. - - * * * * * - -The _rapido_ took us through lovely Italian countryside, but it was in -no hurry to do it. We were late getting into the city itself, and I -found myself almost trotting out of the little train and up into the -main waiting room where my driver would be standing at the Company desk. - -I couldn't really blame the Neapolitans for the delay--it wasn't their -fault that the Sicilians had atomized the main passenger field at -Capodichino during the war, and the _rapido_ wasn't geared to handling -that volume of traffic from Carmody Field. But Mr. Gogarty would be -waiting for me, and it wasn't my business to keep a Regional Director -waiting. - -I got as far as the exit to the train shed. There was a sudden high, -shrill blast of whistles and a scurrying and, out of the confusion of -persons milling about, there suddenly emerged order. - -At every doorway stood three uniformed Company expediters; squads of -expediters formed almost before my eyes all over the train shed; -single expediters appeared and took up guard positions at every -stairwell and platform head. It was a triumph of organization; in no -more than ten seconds, a confused crowd was brought under instant -control. - -But why? - -There was a babble of surprised sounds from the hurrying crowds; they -were as astonished as I. It was reasonable enough that the Company's -expediter command should conduct this sort of surprise raid from time -to time, of course. The Company owed it to its policyholders; by -insuring them against the hazards of war under the Blue Bolt complex -of plans, it had taken on the responsibility of preventing war when it -could. And ordinarily it could, easily enough. - -How could men fight a war without weapons--and how could they buy -weapons, particularly atomic weapons, when the Company owned all the -sources and sold only to whom it pleased, when it pleased, as it -pleased? There were still occasional outbreaks--witness the recent -strife between Sicily and Naples itself--but the principle remained.... -Anyway, surprise raids were well within the Company's rights. - -I was mystified, though--I could not imagine what they were looking -for here in the Naples railroad terminal; with geigering at Carmody -Field and every other entry point to the Principality of Naples, they -should have caught every fissionable atom coming in, and it simply -did not seem reasonable that anyone in the principality itself could -produce nuclear fuel to make a bomb. - -Unless they were not looking for bombs, but for people who might want -to use them. But that didn't tie in with what I had been taught as a -cadet at the Home Office. - - * * * * * - -There was a crackle and an unrecognizable roar from the station's -public-address system. Then the crowd noises died down as people -strained to listen, and I began to understand the words: "... -Where you are in an orderly fashion until this investigation is -concluded. You will not be delayed more than a few minutes. Do not, -repeat, _do not_ attempt to leave until this man has been captured. -Attention! Attention! All persons in this area! Under Company law, -you are ordered to stop all activities and stand still at once. An -investigation is being carried out in this building. All persons will -stand still and remain where you are in an orderly fashion until this -investigation...." - -The mounting babble drowned the speaker out again, but I had heard -enough. - -I suppose I was wrong, but I had been taught that my duty was to serve -the world, by serving the Company, in all ways at all times. I walked -briskly toward the nearest squad of expediters, who were already -breaking up into detachments and moving about among the halted knots of -civilians, peering at faces, asking questions. - -I didn't quite make it; I hadn't gone more than five yards when a heavy -hand fell on my shoulder, and a harsh voice snarled in the Neapolitan -dialect, "Halt, you! Didn't you hear the orders?" - -I spun, staggering slightly, to face an armed expediter-officer. I -stood at attention and said crisply, "Sorry. I'm Thomas Wills, Claims -Adjuster. I thought I might be able to help." - -The officer stared at me for a moment. His cheeks moved; I had the -impression that, under other circumstances, he would have spat on the -floor at my feet. "Papers!" he ordered. - -I passed him my travel orders. He looked them over briefly, then -returned them. Like the Customs expediter at Carmody Field, he gave -me a snap salute, militarily precise and, in a way I could not quite -define, contemptuous. "You should just stay here, Adjuster Wills," he -advised--in a tone that made it a command. "This will be over in a -moment." - -He was gone, back to his post. I stood for a moment, but it was easier -to listen to his orders than to obey them; the Neapolitan crowd didn't -seem to take too well to discipline, and though there was no overt -resistance to the search squads, there was a sort of Brownian movement -of individuals in the throng that kept edging me back and away from -where I had been standing. It made me a little uncomfortable; I was -standing close to the edge of a platform, and a large poster announced -that the Milan Express was due to arrive on that track at any moment. -In fact, I could hear the thin, effeminate whistle of its Diesel -locomotive just beyond the end of the platform. I tried to inch my -way from the edge. I dodged around an electric baggage-cart, and trod -heavily on someone's foot. - - * * * * * - -"Excuse me," I said quickly, looking at the man. He glared back at -me. There was a bright spark in his eyes; I could tell little about -his expression because, oddly enough in that country of clean-shaven -faces, he wore a heavy, ragged, clipped beard. He wore the uniform of -a porter. He mumbled something I could not quite catch, and moved as if -to push me away. I suppose I put up my arm. My papers, with the Company -seal bright gold upon them, were still in my hand, and the bearded man -caught sight of them. - -If there had been anger in his eyes before, there was now raging fury. -He shrilled, "Beast! Animal!" He thrust at me blindly and leaped past -me, out of the shelter of the bags; he went spinning furiously through -the crowd, men and women ricocheting off him. - -I heard a harsh bellow: "There he goes! Zorchi! Zorchi!" And I could -hear the bearded man shrieking curses as he hurtled up the platform, up -toward the oncoming train, over to the edge--and off the platform to -the tracks! - -He fell less than a yard in front of the slim nose of the Diesel. I -don't suppose the speed of the train was even five miles an hour, but -the engineer hadn't a chance in the world to stop. - -While I watched, struck motionless, along with all the others on that -platform, the engine passed over the huddled form. The brakes were -shrieking, but it was much, much too late. Even in that moment I -thought he would not be killed--not instantly, at least, unless he -died of loss of blood. The trunk of his body was safely in the well -between the tracks. But his legs were sprawled over a rail. And the -slow click-click of the wheels didn't stop until his uniformed body was -far out of sight. - -It was shocking, sickening, unbelievable. - -And it didn't stop there. A strange thing happened. When the man had -dived into the path of the train, there was a sudden fearful hush; it -had happened too suddenly for anyone to cry out. And when the hush -ended, there was only a momentary, instinctive gasp of horror. Then -there was a quick, astonished babble of voices--and then cheers! And -applause, and ringing bravos! - -I didn't understand. - -The man had thrown himself deliberately under the train. I was sure of -it. - -Was that something to cheer? - - * * * * * - -I finally made it to where the Regional Director was waiting for -me--nearly an hour late. - -It was at a hotel overlooking the Bay, and the sight was thrilling -enough to put the unpleasant accident I had seen out of my mind for a -moment. There was nothing so beautiful in all the world, I thought, as -the Bay of Naples at sunset. It was not only my own opinion; I had -seen it described many times in the travel folders I had pored over, -while my wife indulgently looked over my shoulder, back in those remote -days of marriage. "La prima vista del mundo," the folders had called -it--the most beautiful sight of the world. They had said: "See Naples, -and die." - -I hadn't known, of course, that Marianna would die first.... - -But that was all behind me. After Marianna's death, a lot of things -had happened, all in a short time, and some of them very bad. But good -or bad, I had laid down a law for myself: I would not dwell on them. I -had started on a new life, and I was going to put the past in a locked -compartment in my mind. I had to! - -I was no longer an ordinary civilian, scraping together his Blue -Heaven premiums for the sake of a roof over his head, budgeting his -food policies, carrying on his humdrum little job. I was a servant -of the human race and a member of the last surviving group of -gentleman-adventurers in all the world: I was an Insurance Claims -Adjuster for the Company! - -All the same, I couldn't quite forget some of the bad things that had -happened, as I walked into the hotel dining room to meet the Regional -Director. - - * * * * * - -Regional Director Gogarty was a huge, pale balloon of a man. He -was waiting for me at a table set for four. As he greeted me, his -expression was sour. "Glad to meet you, Wills. Bad business, this. Bad -business. He got away with it again." - -I coughed. "Sir?" I asked. - -"Zorchi!" he snapped. And I remembered the name I had heard on the -platform. The mad-man! Zorchi, Luigi Zorchi, the human jellyfish. -"Wills, do you know that that man has just cashed in on his _twelfth_ -disability policy? And not a thing we could do to stop him! You were -there. You saw it, didn't you?" - -"Well, yes, but--" - -"Thought so. The twelfth! And your driver said on the phone it was both -legs this time. Both legs--and on a common carrier. Double indemnity!" -He shook his enormous head. "And with a whole corps of expediters -standing by to stop him!" - -I said with some difficulty, "Sir, do you mean that the man I saw run -over by the train was--" - -"Luigi Zorchi. That's who he was. Ever hear of him, Wills?" - -"Can't say I have." - -Gogarty nodded his balloon-like head. "The Company has kept it out of -the papers, of course, but you can't keep anything from being gossiped -about around here. This Zorchi is practically a national hero in -Naples. He's damn near a millionaire by now, I guess, and every lira -of it has come right out of the Company's indemnity funds. And do you -think we can do anything about it? Not a thing! Not even when we're -tipped off ahead of time--when, what, and where! - -"He just laughs at us. I know for a fact," Gogarty said bitterly, "that -Zorchi knew we found out he was going to dive in front of that express -tonight. He was just daring us to stop him. We should have! We should -have figured he might disguise himself as a porter. We should--" - -I interrupted, "Mr. Gogarty, are you trying to tell me this man -_deliberately_ maims himself for the accident insurance?" Gogarty -nodded sourly. "Good heavens," I cried, "that's disloyal!" - -Gogarty laughed sharply and brought me up standing. There was a note to -the way he laughed that I didn't like; for a moment there, I thought he -was thinking of my own little--well, indiscretion. But he said only, -"It's expensive, too." I suppose he meant nothing by it. But I was -sensitive on the subject. - -Before I could ask him any more questions, the massive face smoothed -out in a smile. He rose ponderously, greeting someone. "Here they are, -Wills," he said jovially. "The girls!" - - * * * * * - -The headwaiter was conducting two young ladies toward us. I remembered -my manners and stood up, but I confess I was surprised. I had heard -that discipline in the field wasn't the same as at the Home Office, but -after all--Gogarty was a Regional Director! - -It was a little informal of him to arrange our first meeting at dinner, -in the first place. But to make a social occasion of it was--in the -straitlaced terms of the Home Office where I had been trained--almost -unthinkable. - -And it was apparent that the girls were mere decoration. I had a -hundred eager questions to ask Gogarty--about this mad Zorchi, about my -duties, about Company policy here in the principality of Naples--but it -would be far out of line to bring up Company matters with these females -present. I was not pleased, but I managed to be civil. - -The girls were decorative enough, I had to admit. - -Gogarty said expansively, all trace of ill humor gone, "This is -Signorina dell'Angela and Miss Susan Manchester. Rena and Susan, this -is Tom Wills." - -I said stiffly, "Delighted." - -Susan was the blonde one, a small plump girl with the bubbly smile of a -professional model. She greeted Gogarty affectionately. The other was -dark and lovely, but with a constant shadow, almost glowering, in her -eyes. - -So we had a few drinks. Then we had a few more. Then the captain -appeared with a broad menu, and I found myself in an embarrassing -position. For Gogarty waved the menu aside with a gesture of mock -disgust. "Save it for the peasants," he ordered. "We don't want that -Blue Plate slop. We'll start with those little baby shrimps like I had -last night, and then an antipasto and after that--" - -I broke in apologetically, "Mr. Gogarty, I have only a Class-B policy." - -Gogarty blinked at me. "What?" - -I cleared my throat. "I have only Class-B coverage on my Blue Plate -policy," I repeated. "I, uh, I never went in much for such--" - -He looked at me incredulously. "Boy," he said, "this is on the Company. -Now relax and let me order. Blue Plate coverage is for the peasants; I -eat like a human being." - -It shook me a little. Here was a Regional Director talking about the -rations supplied under the Company's Blue Plate coverage as "slop." Oh, -I wasn't naive enough to think that no one talked that way. There were -a certain number of malcontents anywhere. I'd heard that kind of talk, -and even worse, once in a while from the Class-D near-uninsurables, the -soreheads with a grudge against the world who blamed all their troubles -on the Company and bleated about the "good old days." Mostly they did -their bleating when it was premium time, I'd noticed. - -But I certainly never expected it from Gogarty. - -Still--it was his party. And he seemed like a pretty nice guy. I had -to allow him the defects of his virtues, I decided. If he was less -reverent to the Company than he should have been, at least by the same -token he was friendly and democratic. He had at least twenty years -seniority on me, and back at the Home Office a mere Claims Adjuster -wouldn't have been at the same table with a Regional Director. - -And here he was feeding me better than I had ever eaten in my life, -talking as though we were equals, even (I reminded myself) seeing to it -that we had the young ladies to keep us company. - - * * * * * - -We were hours at dinner, hours and endless glasses of wine, and we -talked continually. But the conversation never came close to official -business. - -The girl Rena was comfortable to be with, I found. There was that -deep, eternal sadness in her eyes, and every once in a while I came -up against it in the middle of a laugh; but she was soft-voiced and -pleasant, and undeniably lovely. Marianna had been prettier, I thought, -but Marianna's voice was harsh Midwest while Rena's-- - -I stopped myself. - -When we were on our after-dinner liqueurs, Rena excused herself -for a moment and, after a few minutes, I spotted her standing by a -satin-draped window, looking wistfully out over a balcony. Gogarty -winked. - -I got up and, a little unsteadily, went over to her. "Shall we look at -this more closely?" I asked her. She smiled and we stepped outside. - -Again I was looking down on the Bay of Naples--a scene painted in -moonlight this time, instead of the orange hues of sunset. It was warm, -but the Moon was frosty white in the sky. Even its muddled reflection -in the slagged waters was grayish white, not yellow. There was a pale -orange halo over the crater of Mount Vesuvius, to our left; and far -down the coast a bluish phosphorescence, over the horizon, marked -Pompeii. "Beautiful," I said. - -She looked at me strangely. All she said was, "Let's go back inside." - -Gogarty greeted us. "Looking at the debris?" he demanded jovially. "Not -much to see at night. Cheer up, Tom. You'll see all the damage you want -to see over the next few days." - -I said, "I hope so, sir." - -Gogarty shook his head reprovingly. "Not 'sir,' Tom. Save that for the -office. Call me Sam." He beamed. "You want to know what it was like -here during the war? You can ask the girls. They were here all through. -Especially Susan--she was with the Company's branch here, even before I -took over. Right, Susan?" - -"Right, Sam," she said obediently. - -Gogarty nodded. "Not that Rena missed much either, but she was out of -town when the Sicilians came over. Weren't you?" he demanded, curiously -intent. Rena nodded silently. "Naples sure took a pasting," Gogarty -went on. "It was pretty tough for a while. Did you know that the -Sicilians actually made a landing right down the coast at Pompeii?" - -"I saw the radioactivity," I said. - -"That's right. They got clobbered, all right. Soon's the barges were -in, the Neapolitans let them have it. But it cost them. The Company -only allowed them five A-bombs each, and they had to use two more -to knock out Palermo. And--well, they don't like to tell this on -themselves, but one of the others was a dud. Probably the only dud -A-bomb in history, I guess." - -He grinned at Rena. Astonishingly, Rena smiled back. - -She was, I thought, a girl of many astonishing moments; I had not -thought that she would be amused at Gogarty's heavy-handed needling. - - * * * * * - -Gogarty went on and on. I was interested enough--I had followed the -Naples-Sicily war in the papers and, of course, I'd been briefed at -the Home Office before coming over--but the girls seemed to find it -pretty dull. By the time Gogarty finished telling me about the Sicilian -attempt to trigger Mt. Vesuvius by dropping an A-bomb into its crater, -Rena was frankly bored and even Susan was yawning behind her palm. - -We finally wound up under the marquee of the restaurant. Gogarty and -the blonde politely said good night, and disappeared into a cab. It -was clearly up to me to take Rena home. - -I hailed a cab. When I made up my new insurance schedule at the Home -Office before coming over, I splurged heavily on transportation -coverage. Perhaps I was making up for the luxuries of travel that -life with Marianna hadn't allowed me. Anyway, I'd taken out Class AA -policies. And as the cab driver clipped my coupons he was extremely -polite. - -Rena lived a long way from the hotel. I tried to make small talk, -but she seemed to have something on her mind. I was in the middle of -telling her about the terrible "accident" I had seen that evening at -the station--suitably censored, of course--when I observed she was -staring out the window. - -She hadn't been paying attention while I talked, but she noticed the -silence when I stopped. She gave a little shake of the head and looked -at me. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wills," she said. "I am being rude." - -"Not at all," I said gallantly. - -"Yes." She nodded and smiled, but it was a thoughtful, almost a sad, -smile. "You are too polite, you gentlemen of the Company. Is that part -of your training?" - -"It's easy to be polite to you, Miss dell'Angela," I said by rote. -Yes, it was part of our training: _A Claims Adjuster is always -courteous_. But what I said was true enough, all the same. She was a -girl that I enjoyed being polite to. - -"No, truly," she persisted. "You are an important officer in the -Company, and you must have trained long for the post. What did they -teach you?" - -"Well--" I hesitated--"just the sort of thing you'd expect, I guess. A -little statistical mathematics--enough so we can understand what the -actuaries mean. Company policies, business methods, administration. -Then, naturally, we had a lot of morale sessions. A Claims Adjuster--" -I cleared my throat, feeling a little self-conscious--"a Claims -Adjuster is supposed to be like Caesar's wife, you know. He must always -set an example to his staff and to the public. I guess that sounds -pretty stuffy. I don't mean it to be. But there is a lot of emphasis on -tradition and honor and discipline." - -She asked, rather oddly, "And is there a course in loyalty?" - -"Why, I suppose you might say that. There are ceremonies, you know. -And it's a matter of cadet honor to put the Company ahead of personal -affairs." - - * * * * * - -"And do all Claims Adjusters live by this code?" - -For a moment I couldn't answer. It was like a blow in the face. I -turned sharply to look at her, but there was no expression on her face, -only a mild polite curiosity. - -I said with difficulty, "Miss dell'Angela, what are you getting at?" - -"Why, nothing!" Her face was as angelic as her name. - -"I don't know what you mean or what you may have heard about me, -Miss dell'Angela, but I can tell you this, if you are interested. -When my wife died, I went to pieces. I admit it. I said a lot of -things I shouldn't have, and some of them may have reflected against -the Company. I'm not trying to deny that but, you understand, I was -upset at the time. I'm not upset now." I took a deep breath. "To me, -the Company is the savior of humanity. I don't want to sound like a -fanatic, but I am loyal to the Company, to the extent of putting it -ahead of my personal affairs, to the extent of doing whatever job the -Company assigns to me. And, if necessary, to the extent of dying for it -if I have to. Is that clear?" - -Well, that was a conversation-stopper, of course. I hadn't meant to -get all wound up about it, but it hurt to find out that there had been -gossip. The dell'Angela girl merely said: "Quite clear." - -We rode in silence for a while. She was staring out the window again, -and I didn't especially want to talk just then. Maybe I was too -sensitive. But there was no doubt in my mind that the Company was the -white hope of the world, and I didn't like being branded a traitor -because of what I'd said after Marianna died. I was, in a way, paying -the penalty for it--it had been made pretty clear to me that I was on -probation. That was enough. - -As I said, she lived a long way from the Gran Reale. I had plenty of -time for my flare-up, and for brooding, and for getting over it. - -But we never did get around to much idle conversation on that little -trip. By the time I had simmered down, I began to have disturbing -thoughts. It suddenly occurred to me that I was a man, and she was a -girl, and we were riding in a cab. - -I don't know how else to say it. At one moment I was taking her home -from a dinner; and at the next, I was taking her home from a date. -Nothing had changed--except the way I looked at it. - - * * * * * - -All of a sudden, I began to feel as though I were fourteen years old -again. It had been quite a long time since I had had the duty of -escorting a beautiful girl--and by then I realized this was a really -_beautiful_ girl--home at the end of an evening. And I was faced with -the question that I had thought would never bother me again at least a -decade before. Should I kiss her good night? - -It was a problem, and I thought about it, feeling a little foolish but -rather happy about it. But all my thinking came to nothing. She decided -for me. - -The cab stopped in front of a white stucco wall. Like so many of the -better Italian homes, the wall enclosed a garden, and the house was in -the middle of the garden. It was an attractive enough place--Class A at -least, I thought--though it was hard to tell in the moonlight. - -I cleared my throat and sort of halfway leaned over to her. - -Then she turned and was looking up at me, and the moonlight glinted -brightly off what could only have been tears in her eyes. - -I stared. - -She didn't say a word. She shook her head briefly, opened the door and -was gone behind the gate. - -It was a puzzlement. Why had she been crying? What had I done? - -I reviewed my conduct all the way back to the hotel, but nothing much -came of it. Perhaps I had been brusque--but brusque enough to bring -tears? I couldn't believe it. - -Curious new life! I fell asleep with the pale moon shining in the -window, brooding about the life I was just beginning, and about the old -life behind me that was buried in the same grave with Marianna. - - -II - -The Naples branch of the Company lay in the heart of the city. I took -a cab to a sort of dome-roofed thing called a _galleria_, and walked -under its skeletal steel ceiling to my new office. Once the _galleria_ -had been roofed with glass, but the glass had powdered down from the -concussion of the Mt. Vesuvius bomb, or the Capodichino bomb, or one of -the other hammerblows the Sicilians had rained on the principality of -Naples in the recent unpleasantness. - -I entered the office and looked around. The blonde girl named Susan -appeared to double as the office receptionist. She nodded efficiently -and waved me to a fenced-off enclosure where Sam Gogarty sat, plump -and untroubled, at an enormous desk. - -I pushed open the swinging gate. - -Gogarty looked at me icily. "You're late," he said. - -_He_ had no hangover, it was clear. I said apologetically, "Sorry, -I'm--" - -"Never mind. Just don't let it happen again." It was clear that, in -the office, business was business; the fact that we had been drinking -together the night before would not condone liberties the morning -after. Gogarty said, "Your desk is over there, Wills. Better get -started." - -I felt considerably deflated as I sat down at my desk and stared -unhappily at the piles of blue and yellow manifolds before me. - -The Company had trained me well. I didn't need to be coached in order -to get through the work; it was all a matter of following established -techniques and precedents. I checked the coverage, reduced the claim to -tape-code, fed the tapes into a machine. - -If the claim was legitimate, the machine computed the amounts due and -issued a punch-card check. If there was anything wrong, the machine -flashed a red light and spat the faulty claim out into a hopper. - -And there were plenty of claims. Every adult in Naples, of course, -carried the conventional War-and-Disaster policy--the so-called Blue -Bolt coverage. Since few of them had actually been injured in the war, -the claims were small--mostly for cost of premiums on other policies, -under the disability clauses. (For if war prevented a policyholder from -meeting his Blue Plate premiums, for instance, the Company itself under -Blue Bolt would keep his policies paid--and the policyholder fed.) - -But there were some big claims, too. The Neapolitan government had -carried the conventional Blue Bolt policies and, though the policy -had been canceled by the Company before hostilities broke out--thus -relieving the Company of the necessity of paying damages to the -principality of Naples itself--still there were all the subsidiary -loss and damage claims of the Neapolitan government's bureaus and -departments, almost every one of them non-canceling. - -It amounted to billions and billions of lire. Just looking at the -amounts on some of the vouchers before me made my head swim. And the -same, of course, would be true in Sicily. Though that would naturally -be handled by the Sicilian office, not by us. - -However, the cost of this one brief, meager little war between Naples -and Sicily, with less than ten thousand casualties, lasting hardly more -than a week, must have set the Company's reserves back hundreds of -millions of dollars. - -And to think that some people didn't like the Company! Why, without it, -the whole peninsula of Italy would have been in financial ruin, the -solvent areas dragged down with the combatants! - -Naturally, the Regional Office was understaffed for this volume of -work--which is why they had flown in new Adjusters like myself. - - * * * * * - -I looked up from my desk, surprised. Susan was standing next to me, an -aspirin and a paper cup of water in her hand. "You look like you might -need this," she whispered. She winked and was gone. - -I swallowed it gratefully, although my hangover was almost gone. I was -finding in these dry papers all the romance and excitement I had joined -the Company's foreign service for. Here before me were human lives, -drama, tragedy, even an occasional touch of human-interest comedy. - -For the Company was supporting most of Naples and whatever affected a -Neapolitan life showed up somehow in the records of the Company. - -It was a clean, _dedicated_ feeling to work for the Company. The monks -of the Middle Ages might have had something of the same positive -conviction that their work in the service of a mighty churchly empire -was right and just, but surely no one since. - -I attacked the mountain of forms with determination, taking pleasure in -the knowledge that every one I processed meant one life helped by the -Company. - -It was plain in history, for all to see. Once the world had been -turbulent and distressed, and the Company had smoothed it out. It had -started with fires and disease. When the first primitive insurance -companies--there were more than one, in the early days--began offering -protection against the hazards of fire, they had found it wise to -try to prevent fires. There were the advertising campaigns with -their wistful-eyed bears pleading with smokers not to drop their -lighted cigarettes in the dry forest; the technical bureaus like the -Underwriter's Laboratory, testing electrical equipment, devising -intricate and homely gimmicks like the underwriter's knot; the -Fire Patrol in the big cities that followed up the city-owned Fire -Department; the endless educational sessions in the schools.... And -fires decreased. - -Then there was life insurance. Each time a death benefit was paid, a -digit rang up on the actuarial scoreboard. Was tuberculosis a major -killer? Establish mobile chest X-rays; alert the people to the meaning -of a chronic cough. Was it heart disease? Explain the dangers of -overweight, the idiocy of exercise past forty. People lived longer. - -Health insurance followed the same pattern. It had begun by paying for -bills incurred during sickness, and ended by providing full medical -sickness prevention and treatment for all. Elaborate research programs -reduced the danger of disease to nearly nothing. Only a few rare cases, -like that of Marianna.... - -I shook myself away from the thought. Anyway, it was neither fire nor -health insurance that concerned me now, but the Blue Bolt anti-war -complex of the Company's policies. It was easy enough to see how it -had come about. For with fire and accident and disease ameliorated -by the strong protecting hand of the Company, only one major hazard -remained--war. - -And so the Company had logically and inevitably resolved to wipe out -war. - - * * * * * - -I looked up. It was Susan again, this time with a cardboard container -of coffee. - -"You're an angel," I said. She set the coffee down and turned to go. I -looked quickly around to make sure that Gogarty was busy, and stopped -her. "Tell me something?" - -"Sure." - -"About this girl, Rena. Does she work for the Company?" - -Susan giggled. "Heavens, no. What an idea!" - -"What's so strange about it?" - -She straightened out her face. "You'd better ask Sam--Mr. Gogarty, that -is. Didn't you have a chance to talk to her last night? Or were you too -busy with other things?" - -"I only want to know how she happened to be with you." - -Susan shrugged. "Sam thought you'd like to meet her, I guess. Really, -you'll have to ask him. All I know is that she's been in here quite -a lot about some claims. But she doesn't work here, believe me." She -wrinkled her nose in amusement. "And I won't work here either, if I -don't get back to my desk." - -I took the hint. By lunch time, I had got through a good half of the -accumulation on my desk. I ate briefly and not too well at a nearby -_trattoria_ with a "B" on the Blue Plate medallion in its window. -After the dinner of the night before, I more than half agreed with -Gogarty's comments about the Blue Plate menus. - -Gogarty called me over when I got back to the office. He said, "I -haven't had a chance to talk to you about Luigi Zorchi." - -I nodded eagerly. I had been hoping for some explanations. - -Gogarty went on, "Since you were on the scene when he took his dive, -you might as well follow up. God knows you can't do worse than the rest -of us." - -I said dubiously, "Well, I saw the accident, if that's what you mean." - -"Accident! What accident? This is the twelfth time he's done it, I tell -you." He tossed a file folder at me. "Take a look! Loss of limbs--four -times. Internal injuries--six times. Loss of vision, impaired hearing, -hospitalization and so on--good lord, I can't count the number of -separate claims. And, every one, he has collected on. Go ahead, look it -over." - - * * * * * - -I peered at the folder. The top sheet was a field report on the -incident I had watched, when the locomotive of the Milan express had -severed both legs. The one below it, dated five weeks earlier, was for -flash burns suffered in the explosion of a stove, causing the loss of -the right forearm nearly to the elbow. - -Curious, I thought, I hadn't noticed anything when I saw the man on the -platform. Still, I hadn't paid too much attention to him at first, and -modern prosthetic devices were nearly miraculous. I riffled through the -red-bordered sheets. The fifth claim down, nearly two years before, -was-- - -I yelped, "Mr. Gogarty! This is a fraud!" - -"What?" - -"Look at this! 'On 21st October, the insured suffered severe injuries -while trapped in a rising elevator with faulty safety equipment, -resulting in loss of both legs above knees, multiple lacerations of--' -Well, never mind the rest of it. But look at that, Mr. Gogarty! He -already lost both legs! He can't lose them twice, can he?" - -Gogarty sat back in his chair, looking at me oddly. "You startled me," -he complained. "Wills, what have I been trying to tell you? That's the -whole point, boy! No, he didn't lose his legs twice. It was _five_ -times!" - -I goggled at him. "But--" - -"But, but. But he did. Wait a minute--" he held up a hand to stop my -questions--"just take a look through the folder. See for yourself." He -waited while, incredulously, I finished going through the dossier. It -was true. I looked at Gogarty wordlessly. - -He said resentfully, "You see what we're up against? And none of -the things you are about to say would help. There is no mistake -in the records--they've been double and triple-checked. There -is no possibility that another man, or men, substituted for -Zorchi--fingerprints have checked every time. The three times he lost -his arms, retina-prints checked. There is no possibility that the -doctors were bribed, or that he lost a little bit more of his leg, for -instance, in each accident--the severed sections were recovered, and -they were complete. Wills, _this guy grows new arms and legs like a -crab_!" - -I looked at him in a daze. "What a fantastic scientific discovery!" I -said. - - * * * * * - -He snorted. "Fantastic pain in the neck! Zorchi can't go on like this; -he'll bankrupt the Company. We can't stop him. Even when we were tipped -off this time--we couldn't stop him. And I'll tell you true, Wills, -that platform was loaded with our men when Zorchi made his dive. You -weren't the only Adjuster of the Company there." - -He picked a folded sheet of paper out of his desk. "Here. Zorchi is -still in the hospital; no visitors allowed today. But I want you to -take these credentials and go to see him tomorrow. You came to us with -a high recommendation from the Home Office, Wills--" That made me look -at him sharply, but his expression was innocent "You're supposed to -be a man of intelligence and resourcefulness. See if you can come up -with some ideas on dealing with that situation. I'd handle it myself, -but I've got--" he grimaced--"certain other minor administrative -difficulties to deal with. Oh, nothing important, but you might as -well know that there appears to be a little, well, popular underground -resentment toward the Company around here." - -"Incredible!" I said. - -He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. "Well," he said, "it's -quitting time. See you in the morning." - -I had a lonely dinner at the same cheap restaurant where I'd had my -lunch. I spent an hour in my room with my Company-issued _Adjuster's -Handbook_, looking for some precedent that had some sort of bearing -on the case of a man who could grow new arms and legs. There wasn't -anything, of course. I went out for a walk ... and still it wasn't -nearly time for me to retire to bed. - -So I did what I had been avoiding doing. I looked in the phone book -for Rena dell'Angela's number. There was, it developed, a Benedetto -dell'Angela at the address she'd given the cab driver; but the phone -was disconnected. - -So I wandered around some more, and then I went to sleep, dreaming -about Benedetto dell'Angela. I saw him as a leather-faced, -white-bearded and courtly old gentleman. Rena's father, surely. -Possibly even her elder brother. Certainly not her husband. - -It was a dull finish to the first full day of my rich, exciting new -life.... - - * * * * * - -The "minor administrative difficulties" got major. So I didn't get to -see Zorchi the next day, after all. - -A Junior Adjuster named Hammond--he was easily sixty, but the -slow-moving, unenterprising type that would stay junior till the day he -died--came white-faced into the office a few minutes after opening and -huddled with Gogarty for a quarter of an hour. - -Then Gogarty called me over. He said, "We're having a spot of trouble. -Hammond needs a little help; you're elected. Draw what you need, take -a couple of expediters along, report back to me this evening." - -Hammond and I stopped at the cashier's office to draw three -dispatch-cases full of lira-notes. Outside, an armored car was waiting -for us, with a full crew of six uniformed expediters. We raced off down -the narrow streets with the sirens wailing, climbing the long hill road -past the radioactive remains of Capodichino, heading out toward the -farmlands. - -Hammond worriedly filled me in on the way. He had got in early to his -branch office that morning, but no earlier than the first of a long -line of policyholders. There had, it appeared, been some kind of rumor -spread that the Company was running out of money. It was preposterous -on the face of it--after all, who _printed_ the money?--but you can't -argue with a large group of people and, before the official hour of -opening the branch, there were more than a hundred in the knotted line -outside the door. - -Hammond had rushed into the Naples office for help, leaving his staff -to do the best they could. He said gloomily, staring out through the -view-slits at the farmlands and vineyards we were passing through, "I -just hope we still have a branch office. This is a bad spot, Wills. -Caserta. It got bombed out, you know; the whole southern end of the -town is radioactive. And it has a long history of trouble. Used to be -the summer royal seat of the old Italian monarchy; then the Americans -used it for a command headquarters in the war Mussolini got into--the -first atom war. It's been fought over time and again." - -I said reasonably, "But don't they know the Company has all the -resources in the world?" - -"Sure they do--when they're thinking. Right now they're not thinking. -They've got it in their heads that the Company isn't going to pay off. -They're scared. You can't tell them anything. You can't even give them -checks--they want cash on the line." - -I said, "That's pretty silly, isn't it? I mean--ugh!" I retched, as -I suddenly got a whiff of the most unpleasant and penetrating odor I -had ever encountered in my life. It was like death and destruction in -gaseous form; a sickly sweet, clinging stink that oozed in through the -pores of my skin to turn my stomach. "Wow!" I said, gasping. - -Hammond looked at me in bewilderment; then he grinned sourly. "New -here, aren't you?" he inquired. "That's hemp. They grow the stuff -for the fibers; and to get the fibers out, they let it get good and -rotten. You'll get used to it," he promised. - -I tried. I tried pretty hard to get used to it; I hardly heard a word -he said all the rest of the way in to Caserta, I was trying so hard. -But I didn't get used to it. - - * * * * * - -Then I had my mind taken off my troubles. The branch was still doing -business when we got there, though there were easily three or four -hundred angrily shouting policyholders milling around in front of it. -They scattered before us as the armored car came racing in; we skidded -to a stop, siren blasting, and the expediters leaped out with their -weapons at the ready. - -Hammond and I climbed out of the armored car with our bags of money. -There was an audible excitement in the crowd as the word spread back -that the Company had brought in enormous stores of lire, more than any -man had ever seen, to pay off the claims. We could hear the chatter of -many voices, and we almost could feel the tension slack off. - -It looked like the trouble was over. - -Then there was a shrill whistle. It sounded very much like the alarm -whistle of one of our expediters but, thinking back, I have never been -sure. - -Perhaps it was a nervous expediter, perhaps it was an agent provocateur -in the crowd. But, whoever pulled the trigger, the explosion went off. - -There was a ragged yell from the crowd, and rocks began whizzing -through the air. The pacifists in the mob began heading for the -doorways and alleys around; women screamed, men shouted and bellowed, -and for a moment it looked like we would be swamped. For not very many -of them were pacifists, and there were at least a hundred screaming, -gesticulating men lunging at us. - -One cobblestone shattered the theoretically unbreakable windshield of -the truck next to my head; then the expediters, gas guns spitting, were -ringing around us to protect the money. - -It was a short fight but vicious. By the time the first assault was -repulsed there were at least fifty persons lying motionless in the -street. - -I had never seen that sort of violence before. It did something to -my stomach. I stood weaving, holding to the armored car, while the -expediters circled the area around the branch office, firing hurry-up -shots at the running rioters. Hammond looked at me questioningly. - -"That smell," I said apologetically. - -He said only, "Sure." True, the fetid aroma from the hemp fields was -billowing all around us, but he knew as well as I that it was not the -smell that was bothering me. - -In a few moments, as we were locking the bags of money into the office -safe, red-crossed vehicles bearing the Company insignia appeared in the -street outside, and medics began tending to the victims. Each one got -a shot of something--an antidote to the sleep-gas from the expediters' -guns, I guessed--and was loaded unceremoniously into the ambulances. - -Hammond appeared beside me. "Ready for business?" he asked. "They'll be -back any minute now, the ones that can still walk. We'll be paying off -until midnight, the way it looks." - -I said, "Sure. That--that gas doesn't hurt them any, does it? I mean, -after they go to the hospital they'll be all right, won't they?" - -Hammond, twirling a pencil in his fingers, stared broodingly at the -motionless body of one policyholder. He was a well-dressed man of fifty -or so, with a reddish mustache, unusual in that area, and shattered -rimless glasses. Not at all the type I would expect to see in a street -fight; probably, I thought, a typical innocent bystander. - -Hammond said absently, "Oh, sure. They'll be all right. Never know what -hit them." There was a tiny sharp _crack_ and the two halves of the -pencil fell to the floor. He looked at it in surprise. "Come on, Wills. -Let's get to work." - - -III - -Of course I still believed in the Company. - -But all the same, it was the first time since I went to work for the -Company that I had even had to ask myself that question. - -That long, long day in Hammond's puny little branch office, sweltering -in the smell of the hemp fields, pushing across the mountains of lire -to the grim-faced policyholders left me a little less sure of things. -Nearly all of the first hundred or so to pass my desk had been in -the crowd that the expediters had fired on. A few had fresh bandages -to show where stones had missed the expediters, but found targets -all the same. Nearly all of them were hostile. There was no casual -conversation, very few "_Grazies_" as they received their payments. - -But at last the day was at an end. Hammond snapped an order to one -of the clerks, who shoved his way through the dwindling line to close -the door and bang down the shutters. I put through the last few -applications, and we were through. - -It was hot and muggy out in the streets of New Caserta. Truce teams -of expediters were patrolling the square, taken off their regular -assignments of enforcing the peace between Naples and Sicily to keep -down Caserta's own mobs. Hammond suggested dinner, and we went to a -little Blue Plate in the palace itself. - -Hammond held Class-A food policies, but he was politeness itself; -he voluntarily led the way to the Class-B area. We presented our -policy-cards to the waiter for canceling, and sat back to enjoy the air -conditioning. - -I was still troubled over the violence. I said, "Has there been any -trouble around here before?" - -Hammond said ruefully, "Plenty. All over Europe, if you want my -opinion. Of course, you never see it in the papers, but I've heard -stories from field workers. They practically had a revolution in the -Sudeten strip after the Prague-Vienna affair." He stopped talking as -the waiter set his Meal-of-the-Day in front of him. Hammond looked at -it sourly. "Oh, the hell with it, Wills," he said. "Have a drink with -me to wash this stuff down." - - * * * * * - -We ordered liquor, and Hammond shoved his Class-A card at the waiter. -I am not a snoop, but I couldn't help noticing that the liquor coupons -were nearly all gone; at his present rate, Hammond would use up his -year's allotment by the end of the summer, and be paying cash for his -drinks. - -Dinner was dull. Hammond made it dull, because he was much more -interested in his drinking than in me. Though I was never much of -a drinker, I'd had a little experience in watching others tank up; -Hammond I classified as the surly and silent type. He wasn't quite rude -to me, but after the brandy with his coffee, and during the three or -four straight whiskies that followed that, he hardly spoke to me at all. - -We left the Blue Plate in a strained silence and, after the cooled -restaurant, the heat outside was painful. The air was absolutely -static, and the odor from the hemp fields soaked into our clothes like -a bath in a sewer. - -Overhead it was nearly dark, and there were low black clouds. "We'd -better get going," I ventured. "Looks like rain." - -Hammond said nothing, only grunted. He lurched ahead of me toward the -narrow street that led back to the branch office, where our transport -was waiting. - -The distance was easily half a mile. Now I am not terribly lazy, and -even in the heat I was willing enough to walk. But I didn't want to get -caught in a rain. Maybe it was superstition on my part--I knew that the -danger was really slight--but I couldn't forget that three separate -atomic explosions had gone off in the area around Caserta and Naples -within only a few months, and there was going to be a certain amount -of radioactivity in every drop of rain that fell for a hundred miles -around. - -I started to tell Hammond about it, but he made a disgusted noise and -stumbled ahead. - -It wasn't as if we had to walk. Caserta was not well equipped with -cabs, but there were a few; and both Hammond and myself ranked high -enough in the Company to have been able to get a lift from one of the -expediter cars that were cruising about. - -There was a flare of lightning over the eastern mountains and, in -a moment, the pounding roll of thunder. And a flat globule of rain -splattered on my face. - -I said, "Hammond, let's wait here for a lift." - -Surprisingly he came along with me. - -If he hadn't, I would have left him in the street. - - * * * * * - -We were in a street of tenements. It was almost deserted; I rapped on -the nearest door. No answer, no sound inside. I rapped again, then -tried the door. It was locked. - -The next door--ancient and rickety as the first--was also locked, -and no one answered. The third door, no one answered. By then it was -raining hard; the knob turned under my fingers, and we stepped inside. - -We left the door ajar, on the chance that a squad car or cab might -pass, and for light. It was almost dark outside, apart from the light -from the lightning flashes, but even so it was darker within. There was -no light at all in the narrow, odorous hall; not even a light seeping -under the apartment doors. - -In the lightning flare, Hammond's face was pale. He was beginning to -sober up, and his manner was uneasy. - -We were there perhaps half an hour in that silent hall, watching the -rain sleet down and the lightning flare and listening to the thunder. -Two or three times, squad cars passed, nosing slowly down the drenched -streets, but though Hammond looked longingly at them, I still didn't -want to get wet. - -Then the rain slowed and almost simultaneously a civilian cab appeared -at the head of the block. "Come on," I said, tugging at his arm. - -He balked. "Wait for a squad car," he mumbled. - -"Why? Come on, Hammond, it may start to pour again in a minute." - -"No!" - -His behavior was exasperating me. Clearly it wasn't that he was too -niggardly to pay for the cab; it was almost as if he were delaying -going back to the branch office for some hidden reason. But that was -ridiculous, of course. - -I said, "Look, you can stay here if you want to, but I'm going." I -jumped out of the doorway just in time to flag the cab; it rolled to -a stop, and the driver backed to where I was standing. As I got in, I -looked once more to the doorway where Hammond was standing, his face -unreadable. - -He made a gesture of some sort, but the lightning flashed again and I -skipped into the cab. When I looked again he was invisible inside the -doorway, and I told the driver to take me to the branch office of the -Company. - -Curious; but it was not an end to curious things that night. At the -branch office, my car was waiting to take me back to Naples. - -I surrendered my travel coupons to the cab driver and jumped from one -vehicle to the other. - -Before my driver could start, someone appeared at the window of the car -and a sharp voice said, "Un momento, Signore 'Ammond!" - -I stared at the man, a rather badly dressed Neapolitan. I said angrily, -"Hammond isn't here!" - -The man's expression changed. It had been belligerent; it now became -astonished and apologetic. "A thousand times excuse me," he said. "The -Signore 'Ammond, can you say where he is?" - -I hesitated, but only for a moment. I didn't like the little man -peering in my window, however humble and conciliatory he had become. I -said abruptly, "No." And my driver took off, leaving the man standing -there. - -I turned to look back at him as we drove off. - -It was ridiculous, but the way he was standing as we left, holding one -hand in his pocket, eyes narrowed and thoughtful, made me think that he -was carrying a gun. - -But, of course, that was impossible. The Company didn't permit lethal -weapons, and who in all the world would challenge a rule of the Company? - - * * * * * - -When I showed up in the Naples office the next morning, Susan had my -coffee ready and waiting for me. I said gratefully, "Bless you." - -She chuckled. "That's not all," she said. "Here's something else you -might like. Just remember though, if anyone asks, you got it out of the -files yourself." - -She slipped a folder under the piles of forms on my desk and -disappeared. I peered at it curiously. It was labeled: "Policy -BNT-3KT-890776, Blue Bolt Comprehensive. Insuree: Renata dell'Angela." - -I could have been no more grateful had she given me the Company Mint. - -But I had no chance to examine it. Gogarty was calling for me. I -hastily swallowed my coffee and reported for orders. - -They were simple enough. The appointment with Zorchi that I hadn't been -able to keep the day before was set up for right then. I was already -late and I had to leave without another glance at Rena's file. - -The hospital Zorchi honored with his patronage was a marble-halled -palace on the cliffs that rimmed the southern edge of the Bay of -Naples. It was a luxurious, rich man's hospital, stuffy with its -opulence; but the most opulent of all was the plush-lined three-room -suite where Zorchi was. - -A white-robed sister of some religious order led me into a silent -elevator and along a statued hall. She tapped on a door, and left me in -the care of a sharp-faced young man with glasses who introduced himself -as Mr. Zorchi's secretary. - -I explained my business. He contemptuously waved me to a brocaded -chair, and left me alone for a good half hour. - -By the time Zorchi was ready to see me, I was boiling. Nobody could -treat a representative of the Company like an errand boy! I did my best -to take into consideration the fact that he had just undergone major -surgery--first under the wheels of the train, then under the knives of -three of Naples' finest surgeons. - -I said as pleasantly as I could, "I'm glad to see you at last." - - * * * * * - -The dark face on the pink embroidered pillow turned coldly toward me. -"Che volete?" he demanded. The secretary opened his mouth to translate. - -I said quickly, "Scusí; parlo un po' la lingua. Non bisogno un -traduttore." - -Zorchi said languidly in Italian, "In that case, Mario, you may go. -What do you want with me, Weels?" - -I explained my duties as a Claims Adjuster for the Company, pointing -out that it was my task, indeed my privilege, to make settlement for -injuries covered by Company policies. He listened condescendingly. I -watched him carefully while I talked, trying to estimate the approach -he might respond to if I was to win his confidence. - -He was far from an attractive young man, I thought. No longer behind -the shabby porter's uniform he had worn on the platform of the station, -he still had an unkempt and slipshod appearance, despite the heavy -silken dressing gown he wore and the manifest costliness of his room. -The beard was still on his face; it, at least, had not been a disguise. -It was not an attractive beard. It had been weeks, at the least, since -any hand had trimmed it to shape and his hair was just as shaggy. - -Zorchi was not impressed with my friendly words. When I had finished, -he said coldly, "I have had claims against the Company before, Weels. -Why is it that this time you make speeches at me?" - -I said carefully, "Well, you must admit you are a rather unusual case." - -"Case?" He frowned fiercely. "I am no case, Weels. I am Zorchi, if you -please." - -"Of course, of course. I only mean to say that--" - -"That I am a statistic, eh?" He bobbed his head. "Surely. I comprehend. -But I am not a statistic, you see. Or, at best, I am a statistic which -will not fit into your electronic machines, am I not?" - -I admitted, "As I say, you are a rather unusual ca--a rather unusual -person, Mr. Zorchi." - -He grinned coldly. "Good. We are agreed. Now that we have come to that -understanding, are we finished with this interview?" - -I coughed. "Mr. Zorchi, I'll be frank with you." He snorted, but I went -on, "According to your records, this claim need not be paid. You see, -you already have been paid for total disability, both a lump sum and a -continuing settlement. There is no possibility of two claims for the -loss of your legs, you must realize." - -He looked at me with a touch of amusement. "I must?" he asked. "It -is odd. I have discussed this, you understand, with many attorneys. -The premiums were paid, were they not? The language of the policy -is clear, is it not? My legs--would you like to observe the stumps -yourself?" - - * * * * * - -He flung the silken covers off. I averted my eyes from the -white-bandaged lower half of his torso, hairy and scrawny and horribly -_less_ than a man's legs should be. - -I said desperately, "Perhaps I spoke too freely. I do not mean, Mr. -Zorchi, that we will not pay your claim. The Company _always_ lives up -to the letter of its contracts." - -He covered himself casually. "Very well. Give the check to my -secretary, please. Are you concluded?" - -"Not quite." I swallowed. I plunged right in. "Mr. Zorchi, what the -hell are you up to? How do you do it? There isn't any fraud, I admit -it. You really lost your legs--more than once. You grew new ones. But -how? Don't you realize how important this is? If you can do it, why not -others? If you are in some way pecu--that is, if the structure of your -body is in some way different from that of others, won't you help us -find out how so that we can learn from it? It isn't necessary for you -to live as you do, you know." - -He was looking at me with a hint of interest in his close-set, dull -eyes. I continued, "Even if you can grow new legs, do you _enjoy_ the -pain of having them cut off? Have you ever stopped to think that some -day, perhaps, you will miscalculate, and the wheels of the train, or -the truck, or whatever you use, may miss your legs and kill you? -That's no way for a man to live, Mr. Zorchi. Why not talk freely to me, -let me help you? Why not take the Company into your confidence, instead -of living by fraud and deceit and--" - -I had gone too far. Livid, he snarled, "Ass! That will cost your -Company, I promise. Is it fraud for me to suffer like this? Do I enjoy -it, do you think? Look, ass!" He flung the covers aside again, ripped -at the white bandages with his hands--Blood spurted. He uncovered the -raw stumps and jerked them at me. - -I do not believe any sight of my life shocked me as much as that; it -was worse than the Caserta hemp fields, worse than the terrible _gone_ -moment when Marianna died, worse than anything I could imagine. - -He raved, "See this fraud, look at it closely! Truly, I grow new legs, -but does that make it easier to lose the old? It is the pain of being -born, Weels, a pain you will never know! I grow legs, I grow arms, I -grow eyes. I will never die! I will live on like a reptile or a fish." - -His eyes were staring. Ignoring the blood spurting from his stumps, -ignoring my attempts to say something, he pounded his abdomen. "Twelve -times I have been cut--do you see even a scar? My appendix, it is bad; -it traps filth, and the filth makes me sick. And I have it cut out--and -it grows again; and I have it cut out again, and it grows back. And the -pain, Weels, the pain never stops!" He flung the robe open, slapped his -narrow, hairy chest. - -I gasped. Under the scraggly hair was a rubble of boils and wens, -breaking and matting the hair as he struck himself in frenzy. "Envy me, -Weels!" he shouted. "Envy the man whose body defends itself against -everything! I will live forever, I promise it, and I will always be in -pain, and someone will pay for every horrible moment of it! Now get -out, get out!" - -I left under the hating eyes of the sharp-faced secretary who silently -led me to the door. - - * * * * * - -I had put Zorchi through a tantrum and subjected myself to as -disagreeable a time as I'd ever had. And I hadn't accomplished a thing. -I knew that well enough. And if I hadn't known it by myself, I would -have found out. - -Gogarty pointed it out to me, in detail. "You're a big disappointment -to me," he moaned sourly. "Ah, the hell with it. What were you trying -to accomplish, anyway?" - -I said defensively, "I thought I might appeal to his altruism. After -all, you didn't give me very explicit instructions." - -"I didn't tell you to remember to wipe your nose either," he said -bitterly. He shook his head, the anger disappearing. "Well," he said -disconsolately, "I don't suppose we're any worse off than we were. -I guess I'd better try this myself." He must have caught a hopeful -anticipatory gleam in my eye, because he said quickly, "Not right now, -Wills. You've made that impossible. I'll just have to wait until he -cools off." - -I said nothing; just stood there waiting for him to let me go. I was -sorry things hadn't worked out but, after all, he had very little to -complain about. Besides, I wanted to get back to my desk and the folder -about Rena dell'Angela. It wasn't so much that I was interested in her -as a person, I reminded myself. I was just curious.... - -Once again, I had to stay curious for a while. Gogarty had other plans -for me. Before I knew what was happening, I was on my way out of the -office again, this time to visit another Neapolitan hospital, where -some of the severely injured in the recent war were waiting final -settlement of their claims. It was a hurry-up matter, which had been -postponed too many times already; some of the injured urgently required -major medical treatment, and the hospital was howling for approval of -their claims before they'd begin treatment. - -This one was far from a marble palace. It had the appearance of a -stucco tenement, and all of the patients were in wards. I was a little -surprised to see expediters guarding the entrance. - -I asked one of them, "Anything wrong?" - -He looked at me with a flicker of astonishment, recognizing the -double-breasted Claim Adjuster uniform, surprised, I think, at my -asking him a question. "Not as long as we're here, sir," he said. - -"I mean, I was wondering what you were doing here." - -The surprise became overt. "Vaults," he said succinctly. - - * * * * * - -I prodded no further. I knew what he meant by vaults, of course. It -was part of the Company's beneficent plan for ameliorating the effects -of even such tiny wars as the Naples-Sicily affair that those who -suffered radiation burns got the best treatment possible. And the best -treatment, of course, was suspended animation. The deadly danger of -radiation burns lay in their cumulative effect; the first symptoms -were nothing, the man was well and able to walk about. Degeneration -of the system followed soon, the marrow of the bone gave up on its -task of producing white corpuscles, the blood count dropped, the tiny -radiant poisons in his blood spread and worked their havoc. If he could -be gotten through the degenerative period he might live. But, if he -lived, he would still die. That is, if his life processes continued, -the radiation sickness would kill him. The answer was to stop the life -process, temporarily, by means of the injections and deep-freeze in -the vaults. It was used for more than radiation, of course. Marianna, -for instance-- - -Well, anyway, that was what the vaults were. These were undoubtedly -just a sort of distribution point, where local cases were received and -kept until they could be sent to the main Company vaults up the coast -at Anzio. - -I wasn't questioning the presence of vaults there; I was only curious -why the Company felt they needed guarding. - -I found myself so busy, though, that I had no time to think about it. -A good many of the cases in this shabby hospital really needed the -Company's help. But a great many of them were obvious attempts at fraud. - -There was a woman, for instance, in the maternity ward. During the war, -she'd had to hide out after the Capodichino bombing and hadn't been -able to reach medical service. So her third child was going to be a -girl, and she was asking indemnity under the gender-guarantee clause. -But she had only Class-C coverage and her first two had been boys; a -daughter was permissible in any of the first four pregnancies. She -began swearing at me before I finished explaining these simple facts to -her. - -I walked out of the ward, hot under the collar. Didn't these people -realize we were trying to help them? They didn't appear to be aware of -it. Only the terribly injured, the radiation cases, the amputees, the -ones under anesthetic--only these gave me no arguments, mainly because -they couldn't talk. - - * * * * * - -Most of them were on their way to the vaults, I found. My main job was -revision of their policies to provide for immobilization. Inevitably, -there are some people who will try to take advantage of anything. - -The retirement clause in the basic contract was the joker here. -Considering that the legal retirement age under the universal Blue -Heaven policy was seventy-five years--calendar years, not metabolic -years--there were plenty of invalids who wanted a few years in the -vaults for reasons that had nothing to do with health. If they could -sleep away two or three decades, they could, they thought, emerge at a -physical age of forty or so and live idly off the Company the rest of -their lives. - -They naturally didn't stop to think that if any such practice became -common the Company would simply be unable to pay claims. And they -certainly didn't think, or care that, if the Company went bankrupt, -the world as we knew it would end. - -It was a delicate problem; we couldn't deny them medical care, but we -couldn't permit them the vaults unless they were either in clearly -urgent need, or were willing to sign an extension waiver to their -policies.... - -I saw plenty of that, that afternoon. The radiation cases were the -worst, in that way, because they still could talk and argue. Even while -they were being loaded with drugs, even while they could see with their -own eyes the blood-count graph dipping lower and lower, they still -complained at being asked to sign the waiver. - -There was even some fear of the vaults themselves--though every living -human had surely seen the Company's indoctrination films that showed -how the injected drugs slowed life processes and inhibited the body's -own destructive enzymes; how the apparently lifeless body, down to -ambient air temperature, would be slipped into its hermetic plastic -sack and stacked away, row on row, far underground, to sleep away the -months or years or, if necessary, the centuries. Time meant nothing to -the suspendees. It was hard to imagine being afraid of as simple and -natural a process as that! - -Although I had to admit that the vaults looked a lot like morgues.... - -I didn't enjoy it. I kept thinking of Marianna. She had feared the -vaults too, in the childish, unreasoning, feminine way that was her -characteristic. When the Blue Blanket technicians had turned up the -diagnosis of leukemia, they had proposed the sure-thing course of -putting her under suspension while the slow-acting drugs--specially -treated to operate even under those conditions--worked their cure, -but she had refused. There had been, they admitted, a ninety-nine and -nine-tenths per cent prospect of a cure without suspension.... - -It just happened that Marianna was in the forlorn one-tenth that died. - -I couldn't get her out of my mind. The cases who protested or whined or -pleaded or shrieked that they were being tortured and embalmed alive -didn't help. I was glad when the afternoon was over and I could get -back to the office. - - * * * * * - -As I came in the door, Gogarty was coming in, too, from the barbershop -downstairs. He was freshly shaved and beaming. - -"Quitting time, Tom," he said amiably, though his eyes were memorizing -the pile of incomplete forms on my desk. "All work and no play, you -know." He nudged me. "Not that you need reminding, eh? Still, you ought -to tell your girl that she shouldn't call you on office time, Tom." - -"Call me? Rena called me?" - -He nodded absently, intent on the desk. "Against Company rules, you -know. Say, I don't like to push you, but aren't you running a little -behind here?" - -I said with some irritation, "I don't have much chance to catch up, the -way I've been racing around the country, you know. And there's plenty -to be done." - -He said soothingly, "Now, take it easy, Tom. I was only trying to say -that there might be some easier way to handle these things." He speared -a form, glanced over it casually. He frowned. "Take this, for instance. -The claim is for catching cold as a result of exposure during the -evacuation of Cerignola. What would you do with that one?" - -"Why--pay it, I suppose." - -"And put in the paper work? Suppose it's a phony, Tom? Not one case of -coryza in fifty is genuine." - -"What would you do?" I asked resentfully. - -He said without hesitation, "Send it back with Form CBB-23A192. Ask for -laboratory smear-test reports." - -I looked over the form. A long letter was attached; it said in more -detail than was necessary that there had been no laboratory service -during the brief war, at least where the policyholder happened to be, -and therefore he could submit only the affidavits of three registered -physicians. It looked like a fair claim to me. If it was up to me, I -would have paid it automatically. - -I temporized. "Suppose it's legitimate?" - -"Suppose it is? Look at it this way, Tom. If it's phoney, this will -scare him off, and you'd be saving the Company the expense and -embarrassment of paying off a fraudulent claim. If it's legitimate, -he'll resubmit it--at a time when, perhaps, we won't be so busy. -Meanwhile that's one more claim handled and disposed of, for our -progress reports to the Home Office." - - * * * * * - -I stared at him unbelievingly. But he looked back in perfect calm, -until my eyes dropped. After all, I thought, he was right in a way. -The mountain of work on my desk was certainly a log-jam, and it had to -be broken somehow. Maybe rejecting this claim would work some small -hardship in an individual case, but what about the hundreds and -thousands of others waiting for attention? Wasn't it true that no small -hardship to an individual was as serious as delaying all those others? - -It was, after all, that very solicitude for the people at large that -the Company relied on for its reputation--that, and the iron-clad -guarantee of prompt and full settlement. - -I said, "I suppose you're right." - -He nodded, and turned away. Then he paused. "I didn't mean to bawl you -out for that phone call, Tom," he said. "Just tell her about the rule, -will you?" - -"Sure. Oh, one thing." He waited. I coughed. "This girl, Rena. I don't -know much about her, you know. Is she, well, someone you know?" - -He said, "Heavens, no. She was making a pest out of herself around -here, frankly. She has a claim, but not a very good one. I don't know -all the details, because it's encoded, but the machines turned it down -automatically. I do know that she, uh--" he sort of half winked--"wants -a favor. Her old man is in trouble. I'll look it up for you some time, -if you want, and get the details. I think he's in the cooler--that is, -the clinic--up at Anzio." - -He scratched his plump jowls. "I didn't think it was fair to you -for me to have a girl at dinner and none for you; Susan promised to -bring someone along, and this one was right here, getting in the way. -She said she liked Americans, so I told her you would be assigned to -her case." This time he did wink. "No harm, of course. You certainly -wouldn't be influenced by any, well, personal relationship, if you -happened to get into one. Oh, a funny thing. She seemed to recognize -your name." - -_That_ was a jolt. "She what?" - -Gogarty shrugged. "Well, she reacted to it. 'Thomas Wills,' I said. -She'd been acting pretty stand-offish, but she warmed up quick. Maybe -she just likes the name, but right then is when she told me she liked -Americans." - -I cleared my throat. "Mr. Gogarty," I said determinedly, "please get -me straight on something. You say this girl's father is in some kind -of trouble, and you imply she knows me. I want to know if you've ever -had any kind of report, or even heard any kind of rumor, that would -make you think that I was in the least sympathetic to any anti-Company -groups? I'm aware that there were stories--" - -He stopped me. "I never heard any, Tom," he said definitely. - -I hesitated. It seemed like a good time to open up to Gogarty; I -opened my mouth to start, but I was too late. Susan called him off for -what she claimed was an urgent phone call and, feeling let-down, I -watched him waddle away. - -Because it was, after all, time that I took down my back hair with my -boss. - - * * * * * - -Well, I hadn't done anything too terribly bad--anyway, I hadn't _meant_ -to do anything bad. And the circumstances sort of explained it, in a -way. And it was all in the past, and-- - -And nothing. I faced the facts. I had spent three solid weeks getting -blind drunk, ranting and raving and staggering up to every passer-by -who would listen and whining to him that the Company was evil, the -Company was murderous, the Company had killed my wife. - -There was no denying it. And I had capped it all off one bleary -midnight, with a brick through the window of the Company branch office -that served my home. It was only a drunken piece of idiocy, I kept -telling myself. But it was a drunken piece of idiocy that landed me in -jail, that had been permanently indorsed on every one of my policies, -that was in the confidential pages of my Company service record. It -was a piece of idiocy that anyone might have done. But it would have -meant deep trouble for me, if it hadn't been for the intercession of my -wife's remote relative, Chief Underwriter Defoe. - -It was he who had bailed me out. He had never told me how he had found -out that I was in jail. He appeared, read the riot-act to me and got -me out. He put me over the coals later, yes, but he'd bailed me out. -He'd told me I was acting like a child--and convinced me of it, which -was harder. And when he was convinced I had snapped out of it, he -personally backed me for an appointment to the Company's school as a -cadet Claims Adjuster. - -I owed a considerable debt of gratitude to my ex-remote-in-law, Chief -Underwriter Defoe. - - * * * * * - -While I still was brooding, Gogarty came back. He looked unhappy. -"Hammond," he said bitterly. "He's missing. Look, was he drunk when -you left him last night?" I nodded. "Thought so. Never showed up for -work. Not at his quarters. The daily ledger's still open at his office, -because there's no responsible person to sign it. So naturally I've got -to run out to Caserta now, and what Susan will say--" He muttered away. - -I remembered the file that was buried under the papers on my desk, when -he mentioned Susan's name. - -As soon as he was out of the office, I had it open. - -And as soon as I had it open, I stared at it in shock. - -The title page of the sheaf inside was headed: Signorina Renata -dell'Angela. Age 22; daughter of Benedetto dell'Angela; accepted to -general Class-AA; no employment. There were more details. - -But across all, in big red letters, was a rubber stamp: _Policy -Canceled. Reassigned Class-E._ - -It meant that the sad-eyed Rena was completely uninsurable. - - -IV - -Phone or no phone, I still had her address. - -It was still daylight when I got out of the cab, and I had a chance -for a good look at the house. It was a handsome place by day; the size -of the huge white stucco wall didn't fit the _uninsurable_ notation -on Rena's claim. That wall enclosed a garden; the garden could hardly -hold less than an AA house. And Class-Es were ordinarily either sent to -public hostels--at the Company's expense, to be sure--or existed on -the charity of friends or relatives. And Class-Es seldom had friends in -Class-AA houses. - -I knocked at the gate. A fat woman, age uncertain but extreme, opened a -little panel and peered at me. I asked politely, "Miss dell'Angela?" - -The woman scowled. "Che dice?" - -I repeated: "May I see Miss dell'Angela? I'm a Claims Adjuster for the -Company. I have some business with her in connection with her policies." - -"Ha!" said the woman. She left it at that for a moment, pursing her -lips and regarding me thoughtfully. Then she shrugged apathetically. -"Momento," she said wearily, and left me standing outside the gate. - -From inside there was a muttering of unfamiliar voices. I thought I -heard a door open, and the sound of steps, but when the fat woman came -back she was alone. - -Silently she opened the door and nodded me in. I started automatically -up the courtyard toward the enclosed house, but she caught my arm and -motioned me toward another path. It led down a flowered lane through a -grape arbor to what might, at one time, have been a caretaker's hut. - -I knocked on the door of the hut, comprehending where Rena dell'Angela -lived as a Class-E uninsurable. - -Rena herself opened it, her face flushed, her expression -surprised--apprehensive, almost, I thought at first. It was the first -time I had seen her by daylight. She was--oh, there was no other word. -She was lovely. - -She said quickly, "Mr. Wills! I didn't expect you." - -I said, "You phoned me. I came as soon as I could." - -She hesitated. "I did," she admitted. "It was--I'm sorry, Mr. Wills. It -was an impulse. I shouldn't have done it." - -"What was it, Rena?" - -She shook her head. "I am sorry. It doesn't matter. But I am a bad -hostess; won't you come in?" - - * * * * * - -The room behind the door was long and narrow, with worn furniture and -a door that led, perhaps, to another room behind. It seemed dusty and, -hating myself as a snooping fool, I took careful note that there was a -faint aroma of tobacco. I had been quite sure that she didn't smoke, -that evening we had met. - -She gestured at a chair--there only were two, both pulled up to a crude -wooden table, on which were two poured cups of coffee. "Please sit -down," she invited. - -I reminded myself that it was, after all, none of my business if she -chose to entertain friends--even friends who smoked particularly rancid -tobacco. And if they preferred not to be around when I came to the -door, why, that was their business, not mine. I said cautiously, "I -didn't mean to interrupt you." - -"Interrupt me?" She saw my eyes on the cups. "Oh--oh, no, Mr. Wills. -That other cup is for you, you see. I poured it when Luisa told me -you were at the gate. It isn't very good, I'm afraid," she said -apologetically. - -I made an effort to sip the coffee; it was terrible. I set it down. -"Rena, I just found out about your policies. Believe me, I'm sorry. I -hadn't known about it, when we had dinner together; I would have--Well, -I don't know what I would have done. There isn't much I can do, -truthfully; I don't want you thinking I have any great power. But I -wish I had known--I might not have made you cry, at any rate." - -She smiled an odd sort of smile. "That wasn't the reason, Mr. Wills." - -"Please call me Tom. Well, then, why did you cry?" - -"It is of no importance. Please." - -I coughed and tried a different tack. "You understand that I do have -_some_ authority. And I would like to help you if I can--if you'll let -me." - -"Let you? How could I prevent it?" - -Her eyes were deep and dark. I shook myself and pulled the notes I'd -made on her policies from my pocket. In the most official voice I could -manage, I said, "You see, there may be some leeway in interpreting the -facts. As it stands, frankly, there isn't much hope. But if you'll give -me some information--" - -"Certainly." - -"All right. Now, your father--Benedetto dell'Angela. He was a casualty -of the war with Sicily; he got a dose of radiation, and he is at -present in a low-metabolism state in the clinic at Anzio, waiting for -the radiogens to clear out of his system. Is that correct?" - -"It is what the Company's report said," she answered. - - * * * * * - -Her tone was odd. Surely she wasn't doubting a Company report! - -"As his dependent, Rena, you applied for subsistence benefits on his -Blue Blanket policies, as well as war-risk benefits under the Blue -Bolt. Both applications were refused; the Blue Blanket because your -father is technically not hospitalized; the Blue Bolt, as well as all -your other personal policies, was cancelled, because of--" I stuttered -over it--"of activities against the best interest of the Company. -Specifically, giving aid and comfort to a known troublemaker whose name -is given here as Slovetski." I showed her the cancellation sheet I had -stolen from the files. - -She shrugged. "This much I know, Tom," she said. - -"Why?" I demanded. "This man is believed to have been instrumental in -inciting the war with Sicily!" - -She flared, "Tom, that's a lie! Slovetski is an old friend of my -father's--they studied together in Berlin, many years ago. He is -utterly, completely against war--any war!" - -I hesitated. "Well, let's put that aside. But you realize that, in -view of this, the Company can maintain--quite properly in a technical -sense--that you contributed to the war, and therefore you can't collect -Blue Bolt compensation for a war you helped bring about. You were -warned, you see. You can't even say that you didn't know what you were -doing." - -"Tom," Rena's voice was infinitely patient and sad. "I knew what I was -doing." - -"In that case, Rena, you have to admit that it seems fair enough. -Still, perhaps we can get something for you--even if only a refund of -your premiums. The Company doesn't always follow the letter of the law, -there are always exceptions, so--" - -Her expression stopped me. She was smiling, but it was the tortured -smile of Prometheus contemplating the cosmic jest that was ripping out -his vitals. - - * * * * * - -I asked uncertainly, "Don't you believe me?" - -"Believe you, Tom? Indeed I do." She laughed out loud that time. "After -what happened to my father, I assure you, Tom, I am certain that the -Company doesn't always follow the law." - -I shook my head quickly. "No, you don't understand. I--" - -"I understand quite well." She studied me for a moment, then patted my -hand. "Let us talk of something else." - -"Won't you tell me why your policy was cancelled?" - -She said evenly, "It's in the file. Because I was a bad girl." - -"But why? Why--" - -"Because, Tom. Please, no more. I know you are trying to be just as -helpful as you can, but there is no help you can give." - -"You don't make it easy, Rena." - -"It can't be easy! You see, I admit everything. I was warned. I -helped an old friend whom the Company wanted to--shall we say--treat -for radiation sickness? So there is no question that my policy can be -cancelled. All legal. It is not the only one of its kind, you know. So -why discuss it?" - -"Why shouldn't we?" - -Her expression softened. "Because--because we do not agree. And never -shall." - -I stared at her blankly. She was being very difficult. Really, I -shouldn't be bothering with her, someone I barely knew, someone I -hadn't even heard of until-- - -That reminded me. I said, "Rena, how did you know my name?" - -Her eyes went opaque. "Know your name, Tom? Why, Mr. Gogarty introduced -us." - -"No. You knew of me before that. Come clean, Rena. Please." - -She said flatly, "I don't know what you mean." She was beginning to act -agitated. I had seen her covertly glancing at her watch several times; -now she held it up openly--ostentatiously, in fact. "I am sorry, but -you'd better go," she said with a hint of anxiety in her voice. "Please -excuse me." - -Well, there seemed no good reason to stay. So I went--not happily; not -with any sense of accomplishment; and fully conscious of the figure I -cut to the unseen watcher in the other room, the man whose coffee I had -usurped. - -Because there was no longer a conjecture about whether there had been -such a person or not. I had heard him sneeze three times. - - * * * * * - -Back at my hotel, a red light was flashing on the phone as I let myself -in. I unlocked the play-back with my room key and got a recorded -message that Gogarty wanted me to phone him at once. - -He answered the phone on the first ring, looking like the wrath of God. -It took me a moment to recognize the symptoms; then it struck home. - -The lined gray face, the jittery twitching of the head, the slow, -tortured movements; here was a man with a classic textbook case of his -ailment. The evidence was medically conclusive. He had been building up -to a fancy drinking party, and something made him stop in the middle. - -There were few tortures worse than a grade-A hangover, but one of those -that qualified was the feeling of having the drink die slowly, going -through the process of sobering up without the anesthetic of sleep. - -He winced as the scanning lights from the phone hit him. "Wills," he -said sourly. "About time. Listen, you've got to go up to Anzio. We've -got a distinguished visitor, and he wants to talk to you." - -"Me?" - -"You! He knows you--his name is Defoe." - -The name crashed over me; I hadn't expected that, of all things. He was -a member of the Council of Underwriters! I thought they never ventured -far from the Home Office. In fact, I thought they never had a moment to -spare from the awesome duties of running the Company. - -Gogarty explained. "He appeared out of nowhere at Carmody Field. I was -still in Caserta! Just settling down to a couple of drinks with Susan, -and they phoned me to say Chief Underwriter Defoe is on my doorstep!" - -I cut in, "What does he want?" - -Gogarty puffed his plump cheeks. "How do I know? He doesn't like the -way things are going, I guess. Well, I don't like them either! But I've -been twenty-six years with the Company, and if he thinks.... Snooping -and prying. There are going to be some changes in the office, I can -tell you. Somebody's been passing on all kinds of lying gossip and--" -He broke off and stared at me calculatingly as an idea hit him. - -Then he shook his head. "No. Couldn't be you, Wills, could it? You only -got here, and Defoe's obviously been getting this stuff for weeks. -Maybe months. Still--Say, how did you come to know him?" - - * * * * * - -It was none of his business. I said coldly, "At the Home Office. I -guess I'll take the morning plane up to Anzio, then." - -"The hell you will. You'll take the night train. It gets you there an -hour earlier." Gogarty jerked his head righteously--then winced and -clutched his temple. He said miserably, "Oh, damn. Tom, I don't like -all of this. I think something happened to Hammond." - -I repeated, "Happened? What could happen to him?" - -"I don't know. But I found out a few things. He's been seen with some -mighty peculiar people in Caserta. What's this about somebody with a -gun waiting at the office for him when you were there?" - -It took a moment for me to figure out what he was talking about. "Oh," -I said, "you mean the man at the car? I didn't know he had a gun, for -certain." - -"I do," Gogarty said shortly. "The expediters tried to pick him up -today, to question him about Hammond. He shot his way out." - -I told Gogarty what I knew, although it wasn't much. He listened -abstractedly and, when I had finished, he sighed. "Well, that's no -help," he grumbled. "Better get ready to catch your train." - -I nodded and reached to cut off the connection. He waved -half-heartedly. "Oh, yes," he added, "give my regards to Susan if you -see her." - -"Isn't she here?" - -He grimaced. "Your friend Defoe said he needed a secretary. He -requisitioned her." - - * * * * * - -I boarded the Anzio train from the same platform where I had seen -Zorchi dive under the wheels. But this was no sleek express; it was an -ancient three-car string that could not have been less than fifty years -out of date. The cars were not even air-conditioned. - -Sleep was next to impossible, so I struck up a conversation with an -expediter-officer. He was stand-offish at first but, when he found out -I was a Claims Adjuster, he mellowed and produced some interesting -information. - -It was reasonable that Defoe would put aside his other duties and make -a quick visit to Anzio, because Anzio seemed to need someone to do -something about it pretty badly. My officer was part of a new levy -being sent up there; the garrison was being doubled; there had been -trouble. He was vague about what kind of "trouble" it had been, but -it sounded like mob violence. I mentioned Caserta and the near-riot I -had been in; the officer's eyes hooded over, and about five minutes -after that he pointedly leaned back and pulled his hat over his eyes. -Evidently it was not good form to discuss actual riots. - -I accepted the rebuke, but I was puzzled in my mind as I tried to get -some sleep for myself. - -What kind of a place was this Naples, where mobs rioted against the -Company and even intelligent-seeming persons like Renata dell'Angela -appeared to have some reservations about it? - - -V - -I slept, more or less, for an hour or so in that cramped coach seat. -I was half asleep when the train-expediter nudged my elbow and said, -"Anzio." - -It was early--barely past daybreak. It was much too early to find a -cab. I got directions from a drowsing stationmaster and walked toward -the vaults. - -The "clinic," as the official term went, was buried in the feet of the -hills just beyond the beaches. I was astonished at the size of it. Not -because it was so large; on the contrary. It was, as far as I could -see, only a broad, low shed. - -Then it occurred to me that the vaults were necessarily almost entirely -underground, for the sake of economy in keeping them down to the -optimum suspendee temperature. It was safe enough and simple enough -to put a man in suspended animation but, as I understood it, it was -necessary to be sure that the suspendees never got much above fifty -degrees temperature for any length of time. Above that, they had an -unwelcome tendency to decay. - -This was, I realized, the first full-scale "clinic" I had ever seen. -I had known that the Company had hundreds, perhaps thousands, of them -scattered all over the world. - -I had heard that the Company had enough of them, mostly in -out-of-the-way locations, to deep-freeze the entire human race at once, -though that seemed hardly reasonable. - -I had even heard some ugly, never-quite-made-clear stories about _why_ -the Company had so many clinics ... but when people began hinting -at such ridiculous unpleasantness, I felt it was my duty to make it -clear that I wanted to hear no subversive talk. So I had never got the -details--and certainly would never have believed them for a moment if I -had. - - * * * * * - -It was very early in the morning, as I say, but it seemed that I was -not the first to arrive at the clinic. On the sparse grass before the -main entrance, half a dozen knots of men and women were standing around -apathetically. Some of them glared at me as I came near them, for -reasons I did not understand; others merely stared. - -I heard a hoarse whisper as I passed one group of middle-aged women. -One of them was saying, "Benedetto non é morte." She seemed to be -directing it to me; but it meant nothing. The only comment that came to -my somewhat weary mind was, "So what if Benedetto isn't dead?" - -A huge armed expediter, yawning and scratching, let me in to the -executive office. I explained that I had been sent for by Mr. Defoe. -I had to wait until Mr. Defoe was ready to receive me and was finally -conducted to a suite of rooms. - -This might have once been an authentic clinic; it had the aseptic -appearance of a depressing hospital room. One for, say, Class-Cs with -terminal myasthenia. Now, though, it had been refitted as a private -guest suite, with an attempt at luxurious drapes and deep stuffed -armchairs superimposed on the basic adjustable beds and stainless steel -plumbing. - -I hadn't seen Defoe in some time, but he hadn't changed at all. -He was, as always, the perfect model of a Company executive of -general-officer rank. He was formal, but not unyielding. He was tall, -distinguished-gray at the temples, spare, immaculately outfitted in the -traditional vest and bow tie. - -I recalled our first meeting. He was from the side of Marianna's family -that she talked about, and she fluttered around for three whole days, -checking our Blue Plate policies for every last exotic dish we could -squeeze out to offer him, planning the television programs allowed -under our entertainment policies, selecting the most respectable of -our friends--"acquaintances" would be a better description; Marianna -didn't make friends easily--to make up a dinner party. He'd arrived -at the stroke of the hour he was due, and had brought with him what -was undoubtedly his idea of a princely gift for newly-weds--a paid-up -extra-coverage maternity benefit rider on our Blue Blanket policies. - -We thanked him effusively. And, for my part, sincerely. That was before -I had known Marianna's views on children; she had no intentions of -raising a family. - - * * * * * - -As I walked in on Defoe in his private suite at the clinic, he was -standing with his back to me, at a small washstand, peering at his -reflection in a mirror. He appeared to have finished shaving. I rubbed -my own bristled chin uneasily. - -He said over his shoulder, "Good morning, Thomas. Sit down." - -I sat on the edge of an enormous wing chair. He pursed his lips, -stretched the skin under his chin and, when he seemed perfectly -satisfied the job was complete, he said as though he were continuing a -conversation, "Fill me in on your interview with Zorchi, Thomas." - -It was the first I'd known he'd ever _heard_ of Zorchi. I hesitantly -began to tell him about the meeting in the hospital. It did not, I -knew, do me very much credit, but it simply didn't occur to me to try -to make my own part look better. I suppose that if I thought of the -matter at all, I simply thought that Defoe would instantly detect any -attempt to gloss things over. He hardly seemed to be paying attention -to me, though; he was preoccupied with the remainder of his morning -ritual--carefully massaging his face with something fragrant, brushing -his teeth with a maddening, old-fashioned insistence on careful -strokes, combing his hair almost strand by strand. - -Then he took a small bottle with a daub attached to the stopper and -touched it to the distinguished gray at his temples. - -I spluttered in the middle of a word; I had never thought of the -possibility that the handsomely grayed temples of the Company's senior -executives, as inevitable as the vest or the watch chain, were equally -a part of the uniform! Defoe gave me a long inquiring look in the -mirror; I coughed and went on with a careful description of Zorchi's -temper tantrum. - -Defoe turned to me and nodded gravely. There was neither approval nor -disapproval. He had asked for information and the information had been -received. - -He pressed a communicator button and ordered breakfast. The microphone -must have been there, but it was invisible. He sat down at a small, -surgical-looking table, leaned back and folded his hands. - -"Now," he said, "tell me what happened in Caserta just before Hammond -disappeared." - -Talking to Defoe had something of the quality of shouting down a well. -I collected my thoughts and told him all I knew on the riot at the -branch office. - -While I was talking, Defoe's breakfast arrived. He didn't know I hadn't -eaten anything, of course--I say "of course" because I know he couldn't -have known, he didn't ask. I looked at it longingly, but all my looking -didn't alter the fact that there was only one plate, one cup, one set -of silverware. - - * * * * * - -He ate his breakfast as methodically as he'd brushed his teeth. I doubt -if it took him five minutes. Since I finished the Caserta story in -about three, the last couple of minutes were in dead silence, Defoe -eating, me sitting mute as a disconnected jukebox. - -Then he pushed the little table away, lit a cigarette and said, "You -may smoke if you wish, Thomas. Come in, Susan." - -He didn't raise his voice; and when, fifteen seconds later, Susan -Manchester walked in, he didn't look at all impressed with the -efficiency of his secretary, his intercom system, or himself. The -concealed microphone, it occurred to me, had heard him order breakfast -and request his secretary to walk in. It had undoubtedly heard--and -most probably recorded--every word I had said. - -How well they did things on the upper echelon of the Company! - -Susan looked--different. She was as blonde and pretty as ever. But she -wasn't bubbly. She smiled at me in passing and handed Defoe a typed -script, which he scanned carefully. - -He asked, "Nothing new on Hammond?" - -"No, sir," she said. - -"All right. You may leave this." She nodded and left. Defoe turned back -to me. "I have some news for you, Thomas. Hammond has been located." - -"That's good," I said. "Not too badly hung over, I hope." - -He gave me an arctic smile. "Hardly. He was found by a couple of -peasants who were picking grapes. He's dead." - - -V - -Hammond dead! He had had his faults, but he was an officer of the -Company and a man I had met. Dead! - -I asked, "How? What happened?" - -"Perhaps you can tell me that, Thomas," said Defoe. - -I sat startledly erect, shocked by the significance of the words. I -said hotly, "Damn it, Mr. Defoe, you know I had nothing to do with -this! I've been all over the whole thing with you and I thought you -were on my side! Just because I said a lot of crazy things after -Marianna died doesn't mean I'm anti-Company--and it certainly doesn't -mean I'd commit murder. If you think that, then why the devil did you -put me in cadet school?" - -Defoe merely raised his hand by bending the wrist slightly; it was -enough to stop me, though. "Gently, Thomas. I don't think you did -it--that much should be obvious. And I put you in cadet school because -I had work for you." - -"But you said I knew something I was holding back." - -Defoe waggled the hand reprovingly. "I said you might be able to tell -me who killed Hammond. And so you might--but not yet. I count heavily -on you for help in this area, Thomas. There are two urgent tasks to be -done. Hammond's death--" he paused and shrugged, and the shrug was all -of Hammond's epitaph--"is only an incident in a larger pattern; we need -to work out the pattern itself." - -He glanced again at the typed list Susan had handed him. "I find that I -can stay in the Naples area for only a short time; the two tasks must -be done before I leave. I shall handle one myself. The other I intend -to delegate to you. - -"First we have the unfortunate situation in regard to the state of -public morale. Unfortunate? Perhaps I should say disgraceful. There is -quite obviously a nucleus of troublemakers at work, Thomas, and Gogarty -has not had the wit to find them and take the appropriate steps. -Someone else must. Second, this Zorchi is an unnecessary annoyance. I -do not propose to let the Company be annoyed, Thomas. Which assignment -would you prefer?" - -I said hesitantly, "I don't know if Mr. Gogarty would like me to--" - -"Gogarty is an ass! If he had not blundered incessantly since he took -over the district, I should not have had to drop important work to come -here." - -I thought for a second. Digging out an undercover ring of troublemakers -didn't sound particularly easy. On the other hand, I had already tried -my luck with Zorchi. - -"Perhaps you'd better try Zorchi," I said. - -"Try?" Defoe allowed himself to look surprised. "As you wish. I think -you will learn something from watching me handle it, Thomas. Shall we -join Signore Zorchi now?" - -"He's _here_?" - -Defoe said impatiently, "Of course, Thomas. Come along." - - * * * * * - -Zorchi's secretary was there, too. He was in a small anteroom, sitting -on a hard wooden chair; as we passed him, I saw the hostility in his -eyes. He didn't say a word. - -Beyond him, in an examination room, was Zorchi, slim, naked and -hideous, sitting on the edge of a surgical cot and trying not to look -ill at ease. He had been shaved from head to knee stumps. Esthetically, -at least, it had been a mistake. I never saw such a collection of skin -eruptions on a human. - -He burst out, faster than my language-school Italian could follow, in -a stream of argument and abuse. Defoe listened icily for a moment, -then shut him up in Italian as good as his own. "Answer questions; -otherwise keep quiet. I will not warn you again." - -I don't know if even Defoe could have stopped Zorchi under normal -conditions. But there is something about being naked in the presence of -fully dressed opponents that saps the will; and I guessed, too, that -the shaving had made Zorchi feel nakeder than ever before in his life. -I could see why he'd worn a beard and I wished he still had it. - -"Dr. Lawton," said Defoe, "have you completed your examination of the -insured?" - -A youngish medical officer of the Company said, "Yes, sir. I have the -slides and reports right here; they just came up from the laboratory." -He handed a stapled collection of photographic prints and papers to -Defoe, who took his own good time to examine them while the rest of us -stood and waited. - -Defoe finally put the papers down and nodded. "In a word, this bears -out our previous discussion." - -Lawton nodded. "If you will observe his legs, you will see that the -skin healing is complete; already a blastema has formed and--" - -"I know," Defoe said impatiently. "Signore Zorchi, I regret to say that -I have bad news for you." - -Zorchi waved his hand defiantly. "_You_ are the bad news." - -Defoe ignored him. "You have a grave systemic imbalance. There is great -danger of serious ill effects." - -"To what?" snarled Zorchi. "The Company's bank account?" - -"No, Zorchi. To your life." Defoe shook his head. "There are -indications of malignancy." - -"Malignancy?" Zorchi looked startled. "What kind? Do you mean cancer?" - -"Exactly." Defoe patted his papers. "You see, Zorchi, healthy human -flesh does not grow like a salamander's tail." - - * * * * * - -The phone rang; impeccable in everything, Defoe waited while Dr. Lawton -nervously answered it. Lawton said a few short words, listened for a -moment and hung up, looking worried. - -He said: "The crowd outside is getting rather large. That was the -expediter-captain from the main gate. He says--" - -"I presume he has standing orders," Defoe said. "We need not concern -ourselves with that, need we?" - -"Well--" The doctor looked unhappy. - -"Now, Zorchi," Defoe went on, dismissing Lawton utterly, "do you enjoy -life?" - -"I despise it!" Zorchi spat to emphasize how much. - -"But you cling to it. You would not like to die, would you? Worse -still, you would not care to live indefinitely with carcinoma eating -you piece by piece." - -Zorchi just glowered suspiciously. - -"Perhaps we can cure you, however," Defoe went on reflectively. "It is -by no means certain. I don't want to raise false hopes. But there is -the possibility--" - -"The possibility that you will cure me of collecting on my policies, -eh?" Zorchi demanded belligerently. "You are crazy, Defoe. Never!" - -Defoe looked at him for a thoughtful moment. To Lawton, he said: "Have -you this man's claim warranty? It has the usual application for medical -treatment, I presume?" He nodded as Lawton confirmed it. "You see, -Mr. Zorchi? As a matter of routine, no claim can be paid unless the -policyholder submits to our medical care. You signed the usual form, -so--" - -"One moment! You people never put me through this before! Did you -change the contract on me?" - -"No, Signore Zorchi. The same contract, but this time we will enforce -it. I think I should warn you of something, though." - -He riffled through the papers and found a photographic print to show -Zorchi. "This picture isn't you, Signore. It is a picture of a newt. -The doctor will explain it to you." - -The print was an eight-by-ten glossy of a little lizard with something -odd about its legs. Puzzled, Zorchi held it as though the lizard were -alive and venomous. But as the doctor spoke, the puzzlement turned into -horror and fury. - -"What Mr. Defoe means," said Lawton, "is that totipotency--that is, -the ability to regenerate lost tissues, as you can, even when entire -members are involved--is full of unanswered riddles. We have found, -for instance, that X-ray treatment on your leg helps a new leg to form -rapidly, just as it does on the leg of the salamanders. The radiation -appears to stimulate the formation of the blastema, which--well, never -mind the technical part. It speeds things up." - -His eyes gleamed with scientific interest. "But we tried the experiment -of irradiating limbs that had not been severed. It worked the same way, -oddly enough. New limbs were generated _even though the old ones were -still there_. That's why the salamander in the photo has four hands on -one of its limbs--nine legs altogether, counting that half-formed one -just beside the tail. Curious-looking little beast, isn't it?" - - * * * * * - -Defoe cleared his throat. "I only mention, Signore, that the standard -treatment for malignancy is X-radiation." - -Zorchi's eyes flamed--rage battling it out with terror. He said -shrilly, "But you can't make a laboratory animal out of me! I'm a -policyholder!" - -"Nature did it, Signore Zorchi, not us," Defoe said. - -Zorchi's eyes rolled up in his head and closed; for a moment, I -thought he had fainted and leaped forward to catch him rather than let -his legless body crash to the floor. But he hadn't fainted. He was -muttering, half aloud, sick with fear, "For the love of Mary, Defoe! -Please, please, I beg you! Please!" - -It was too much for me. I said, shaking with rage, "Mr. Defoe, you -can't force this man to undergo experimental radiation that might make -a monster out of him! I insist that you reconsider!" - -Defoe threw his head back. "_What, Thomas?_" he snapped. - -I said firmly, "He has no one here to advise him--I'll take the job. -Zorchi, listen to me! You've signed the treatment application and he's -right enough about that--you can't get out of it. _But you don't have -to take this treatment!_ Every policyholder has the right to refuse -any new and unguaranteed course of treatment, no matter what the -circumstances. All you've got to do is agree to go into suspension in -the va--in the clinic here, pending such time as your condition can be -infallibly cured. Do it, man! Don't let them make you a freak--demand -suspension! What have you got to lose?" - -I never saw a man go so to pieces as Zorchi, when he realized how -nearly Defoe had trapped him into becoming a guinea pig. Whimpering -thanks to me, he hastily signed the optional agreement for suspended -animation and, as quickly as I could, I left him there. - -Defoe followed me. We passed the secretary in the anteroom while Dr. -Lawton was explaining the circumstances to him; the man was stricken -with astonishment, almost too paralyzed to sign the witnessing form -Defoe had insisted on. I knew the form well--I had been about to sign -one for Marianna when, at the last moment, she decided against the -vaults in favor of the experimental therapy that hadn't worked. - -Outside in the hall, Defoe stopped and confronted me. I braced myself -for the blast to end all blasts. - -I could hardly believe my eyes. The great stone face was smiling! - -"Thomas," he said inexplicably, "that was masterful. I couldn't have -done better myself." - - -VI - -We walked silently through the huge central waiting room of the clinic. - -There should have been scores of relatives of suspendees milling -around, seeking information--there was, I knew, still a steady shipment -of suspendees coming in from the local hospitals; I had seen it myself. -But there were hardly more than a dozen or so persons in sight, with a -single clerk checking their forms and answering their questions. - -It was too quiet. Defoe thought so, too; I saw his frown. - -Now that I had had a few moments to catch my breath, I realized that I -had seen a master judoist at work. It was all out of the textbooks--as -a fledgling Claims Adjuster, I had had the basic courses in handling -difficult cases--but not one man in a million could apply textbook -rules as skillfully and successfully as Defoe did with Zorchi. - -Push a man hard and he will lunge back; push him hard enough and -persistently enough, and he will lunge back farther than his vision -carries him, right to the position you planned for him in the first -place. And I, of course, had been only a tool in Defoe's hand; by -interceding for Zorchi, I had tricked the man into the surrender Defoe -wanted. - -And he had complimented me for it! - -I couldn't help wondering, though, whether the compliment Defoe gave me -was part of some still subtler scheme.... - -Defoe nodded curtly to the expediter-captain at the door, who saluted -and pressed the teleswitch that summoned Defoe's limousine. - - * * * * * - -Defoe turned to me. "I have business in Rome and must leave at once. -You will have to certify Zorchi's suspension this afternoon; since I -won't be here, you'll have to come back to the clinic for it. After -that, Thomas, you can begin your assignment." - -I said uncertainly, "What--where shall I begin?" - -One eyebrow lifted a trifle. "Where? Wherever you think proper, Thomas. -Or must I handle this myself?" - -The proper answer, and the one I longed to make, was "Yes." Instead I -said, "Not at all, Mr. Defoe. It's only that I didn't even know there -was an undercover group until you told me about it a few moments ago; I -don't know exactly where to start. Gogarty never mentioned--" - -"Gogarty," he cut in, "is very likely to be relieved as District -Administrator before long. I should like to replace him with -someone already on the scene--" he glanced at me to be sure I -understood--"provided, that is, that I can find someone of proven -competence. Someone who has the ability to handle this situation -without the necessity of my personal intervention." - -The limousine arrived then, with an armed expediter riding beside the -chauffeur. Defoe allowed me to open the door for him and follow him in. - -"Do you understand me?" he asked as the driver started off. - -"I think so," I said. - -"Good. I do not suppose that Gogarty has given you any information -about the malcontents in this area." - -"No." - -"It may be for the best; his information is clearly not good." Defoe -stared broodingly out the window at the silent groups of men and women -on the grass before the clinic. "Your information is there," he said -as they passed out of sight. "Learn what you can. Act when you know -enough. And, Thomas--" - -"Yes?" - -"Have you given thought to your future?" - -I shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I've only been a Claims Adjuster a -little while, you know. I suppose that perhaps I might eventually get -promoted, even become a District Administrator--" - -He looked at me impersonally. "Dream higher," he advised. - - * * * * * - -I stood watching after Defoe's limousine, from the marquee of the hotel -where he had left me to take a room and freshen up. _Dream higher._ He -had the gift of intoxication. - -Higher than a District Administrator! It could mean only--the Home -Office. - -Well, it was not impossible, after all. The Home Office jobs had to -go to someone; the super-men who held them now--the Defoes and the -Carmodys and the dozen or more others who headed up departments or -filled seats on the Council of Underwriters--couldn't live forever. And -the jobs had to be filled by someone. - -Why not me? Only one reason, really. I was not a career man. I hadn't -had the early academy training from adolescence on; I had come to the -service of the Company itself relatively late in life. The calendar -legislated against me. - -Of course, I thought to myself, I was in a pretty good position, in a -way, because of Defoe's evident interest in me. With him helping and -counseling me, it might be easier. - -I thought that and then I stopped myself, shocked. I was thinking in -terms of personal preferment. That was not the Company way! If I had -learned anything in my training, I had learned that Advancement was on -merit alone. - -Advancement _had_ to be on merit alone ... else the Company became an -oligarchy, deadly and self-perpetuating. - -Shaken, I sat in the dingy little hotel room that was the best the town -of Anzio had for me and opened my little Black Book. I thumbed through -the fine-printed pages of actuarial tables and turned to the words of -Millen Carmody, Chief Underwriter, in the preface. They were the words -that had been read to me and the others at our graduation at the Home -Office, according to the tradition: - - _Remember always that the Company serves humanity, not the reverse. - The Company's work is the world's work. The Company can end, - forever, the menace of war and devastation; but it must not - substitute a tyranny of its own. Corruption breeds tyrants. - Corruption has no place in the Company._ - -They were glorious words. I read them over again, and stared at the -portrait of Underwriter Carmody that was the frontispiece of the -handbook. It was a face to inspire trust--wise and human, grave, but -with warmth in the wide-spaced eyes. - -Millen Carmody was not a man you could doubt. As long as men like -him ran the Company--and he was the boss of them all, _the_ Chief -Underwriter, the highest position the Company had to offer--there could -be no question of favoritism or corruption. - - * * * * * - -After eating, I shaved, cleaned up a little and went back to the clinic. - -There was trouble in the air, no question of it. More expediters were -in view, scattered around the entrance, a dozen, cautious yards away -from the nearest knots of civilians. Cars with no official company -markings, but with armor-glass so thick that it seemed yellow, were -parked at the corners. And people were everywhere. - -People who were quiet. Too quiet. There were some women--but not enough -to make the proportion right. And there were no children. - -I could almost feel the thrust of their eyes as I entered the clinic. - -Inside, the aura of strain was even denser. If anything, the place -looked more normal than it had earlier; there were more people. -The huge waiting room was packed and a dozen sweating clerks were -interviewing long lines of persons. But here, as outside, the feeling -was wrong; the crowds weren't noisy enough; they lacked the nervous -boisterousness they should have had. - -Dr. Lawton looked worried. He greeted me and showed me to a small room -near the elevators. There was a cocoon of milky plastic on a wheeled -table; I looked closer, and inside the cocoon, recognizable through the -clear plastic over the face, was the waxlike body of Luigi Zorchi. The -eyes were closed and he was completely still. I would have thought him -dead if I had not known he was under the influence of the drugs used in -the suspension of life in the vaults. - -I said: "Am I supposed to identify him or something?" - -"We know who he is," Lawton snorted. "Sign the commitment, that's all." - -I signed the form he handed me, attesting that Luigi Zorchi, -serial number such-and-such, had requested and was being granted -immobilization and suspension in lieu of cash medical benefits. They -rolled the stretcher-cart away, with its thick foam-plastic sack -containing the inanimate Zorchi. - -"Anything else?" I asked. - -Lawton shook his head moodily. "Nothing you can help with. I told Defoe -this was going to happen!" - -"What?" - -He glared at me. "Man, didn't you just come in through the main -entrance? Didn't you see that mob?" - -"Well, I wouldn't call it a mob," I began. - -"You wouldn't _now_," he broke in. "But you will soon enough. They're -working themselves up. Or maybe they're waiting for something. But it -means trouble, I promise, and I warned Defoe about it. And he just -stared at me as if I was some kind of degenerate." - - * * * * * - -I said sharply, "What are you afraid of? Right outside, you've got -enough expediters to fight a war." - -"Afraid? Me?" He looked insulted. "Do you think I'm worried about my -own skin, Wills? No, sir. But do you realize that we have suspendees -here who need protection? Eighty thousand of them. A mob like that--" - -"Eighty _thousand_?" I stared at him. The war had lasted only a few -weeks! - -"Eighty thousand. A little more, if anything. And every one of them -is a ward of the Company as long as he's suspended. Just think of the -damage suits, Wills." - -I said, still marveling at the enormous number of casualties out of -that little war, "Surely the suspendees are safe here, aren't they?" - -"Not against mobs. The vaults can handle anything that might happen -in the way of disaster. I don't think an H-bomb right smack on top of -them would disturb more than the top two or three decks at most. But -you never know what mobs will do. If they once get in here--And Defoe -wouldn't listen to me!" - -As I went back into the hall, passing the main entrance, the explosion -burst. - -I stared out over the heads of the dreadfully silent throng in the -entrance hall, looking toward the glass doors, as was everyone else -inside. Beyond the doors, an arc of expediters was retreating toward -us; they paused, fired a round of gas-shells over the heads of the mob -outside, and retreated again. - -Then the mob was on them, in a burst of screaming fury. Hidden gas guns -appeared, and clubs, and curious things that looked like slingshots. -The crowd broke for the entrance. The line of expediters wavered but -held. There was a tangle of hand-to-hand fights, each one a vicious -struggle. But the expediters were professionals; outnumbered forty to -one, they savagely chopped down their attackers with their hands, their -feet and the stocks of their guns. The crowd hesitated. No shot had yet -been fired, except toward the sky. - - * * * * * - -The air whined and shook. From low on the horizon, a needle-nosed jet -thundered in. A plane! Aircraft never flew in the restricted area over -the Company's major installations. Aircraft didn't barrel in at treetop -height, fast and low, without a hint of the recognition numbers every -aircraft had to carry. - -From its belly sluiced a silvery milt of explosives as it came in over -the heads of the mob, peeled off and up and away, then circled out -toward the sea for another approach. A hail of tiny blasts rattled in -the clear space between the line of expediters and the entrance. The -big doors shook and cracked. - - * * * * * - -The expediters stared white-faced at the ship. And the crowd began -firing. An illegal hard-pellet gun peppered the glass of the doors with -pock-marks. The guarding line of expediters was simply overrun. - -Inside the waiting room, where I stood frozen, hell broke out. The -detachment of expediters, supervising the hundreds inside leaped for -the doors to fight back the surging mob. But the mob inside the doors, -the long orderly lines before the interviewing clerks, now split into -a hundred screaming, milling centers of panic. Some rushed toward the -doors; some broke for the halls of the vaults themselves. I couldn't -see what was going on outside any more. I was swamped in a rush of -women panicked out of their senses. - -Panic was like a plague. I saw doctors and orderlies struggling -against the tide, a few scattered expediters battling to turn back the -terrified rush. But I was swept along ahead of them all, barely able to -keep my feet. An expediter fell a yard from me. I caught up his gun and -began striking out. For this was what Lawton had feared--the mob loose -in the vaults! - -I raced down a side corridor, around a corner, to the banked elevators -that led to the deeps of the clinic. There was fighting there, but -the elevator doors were closed. Someone had had the wit to lock them -against the mob. But there were stairs; I saw an emergency door only -a few yards away. I hesitated only long enough to convince myself, -through the fear, that my duty was to the Company and to the protection -of its helpless wards below. I bolted through the door and slammed -it behind me, spun the levers over and locked it. In a moment, I was -running down a long ramp toward the cool immensities of the vaults. - -If Lawton had not mentioned the possible consequences of violence -to the suspendees, I suppose I would have worried only about my own -skin. But here I was. I stared around, trying to get my bearings. I -was in a sort of plexus of hallways, an open area with doors on all -sides leading off to the vaults. I was alone; the noise from above and -outside was cut off completely. - -No, I was not alone! I heard running footsteps, light and quick, from -another ramp. I turned in time to see a figure speed down it, pause -only a second at its base, and disappear into one of the vaults. It -was a woman, but not a woman in nurse's uniform. Her back had been to -me, yet I could see that one hand held a gas gun, the other something -glittering and small. - -I followed, not quite believing what I had seen. For I had caught only -a glimpse of her face, far off and from a bad angle--but I was as sure -as ever I could be that it was Rena dell'Angela! - - * * * * * - -She didn't look back. She was hurrying against time, hurrying toward a -destination that obsessed her thoughts. I followed quietly enough, but -I think I might have thundered like an elephant herd and still been -unheard. - -We passed a strange double-walled door with a warning of some sort -lettered on it in red; then she swung into a side corridor where the -passage was just wide enough for one. On either side were empty tiers -of shelves waiting for suspendees. I speeded up to reach the corner -before she could disappear. - -But she wasn't hurrying now. She had come to a bay of shelves where a -hundred or so bodies lay wrapped in their plastic sacks, each to his -own shelf. Dropping to her knees, she began checking the tags on the -cocoons at the lowest level. - -She whispered something sharp and imploring. Then, straightening -abruptly, she dropped the gas gun and took up the glittering thing -in her other hand. Now I could see that it was a hypodermic kit in a -crystal case. From it she took a little flask of purplish liquid and, -fingers shaking, shoved the needle of the hypodermic into the plastic -stopper of the vial. - -Moving closer, I said: "It won't work, Rena." - -She jumped and swung to face me, holding the hypodermic like a -stiletto. Seeing my face, she gasped and wavered. - -I stepped by her and looked down at the tag on the cocooned figure. -_Benedetto dell'Angela, Napoli_, it said, and then the long string of -serial numbers that identified him. - -It was what I had guessed. - -"It won't work," I repeated. "Be smart about this, Rena. You can't -revive him without killing him." - -Rena half-closed her eyes. She whispered, "Would death be worse than -this?" - -I hadn't expected this sort of superstitious nonsense from her. I -started to answer, but she had me off guard. In a flash, she raked the -glittering needle toward my face and, as I stumbled back involuntarily, -her other hand lunged for the gas gun I had thrust into my belt. - -Only luck saved me. Not being in a holster, the gun's front sight -caught and I had the moment I needed to cuff her away. She gasped and -spun up against the tiers of shelves. The filled hypodermic shattered -against the floor, spilling the contents into a purple, gleaming pool -of fluorescence. - - * * * * * - -Rena took a deep breath and stood erect. There were tears in her eyes -again. - -She said in a detached voice: "Well done, Mr. Wills." - -"Are you crazy?" I crackled. "This is your father. Do you want to kill -him? It takes a doctor to revive him. You're an educated woman, Rena, -not a witch-ridden peasant! You know better than this!" - -She laughed--a cold laugh. "Educated! A peasant woman would have kicked -you to death and succeeded. I'm educated, all right! Two hundred men, a -plane, twenty women risking themselves up there to get me through the -door. All our plans--and I can't remember a way to kill you in time. -I'm too educated to hate you, Claims Adjuster Wills!" She choked on the -words. Then she shook her head dully. "Go ahead, turn me in and get it -over with." - -I took a deep breath. Turn her in? I hadn't thought that far ahead. -True, that was the obvious thing to do; she had confessed that the -whole riot outside was a diversion to get her down in the vaults, and -anyone who could summon up that sort of organized anti-Company violence -was someone who automatically became my natural enemy. - -But perhaps I was too educated and too soft as well. There had been -tears on her face, over her father's body. I could not remember having -heard that conspirators cried. - -And I sympathized a little. I had known what it was like to weep -over the body of someone I loved. Despite our difficulties, despite -everything, I would have done anything in the world to bring Marianna -back to life. I couldn't. Rena--she believed--could revive her father. - -I didn't want to turn her in. - -I _shouldn't_ turn her in. It was my duty _not_ to turn her in, for -hadn't Defoe himself ordered me to investigate the dissident movement -of which she was clearly a part? Wouldn't it be easier for me to win -her confidence, and trick her into revealing its secrets, than to have -her arrested? - -The answer, in all truth, was _No_. She was not a trickable girl, I was -sure. But it was, at least, a rationale, and I clung to it. - - * * * * * - -I coughed and said: "Rena, will you make a bargain?" - -She stared drearily. "Bargain?" - -"I have a room at the Umberto. If I get you out of here, will you go to -my room and wait for me there?" - -Her eyes narrowed sharply for a second. She parted her lips to say -something, but only nodded. - -"Your word, Rena? I don't want to turn you in." - -She looked helplessly at the purple spilled pool on the floor, and -wistfully at the sack that held her father. Then she said, "My word on -it. But you're a fool, Tom!" - -"I know it!" I admitted. - -I hurried her back up the ramp, back toward the violence upstairs. If -it was over, I would have to talk her out of the clinic, somehow cover -up the fact that she had been in the vaults. If it was still going on, -though-- - -It was. - -We blended ourselves with the shouting, rioting knots. I dragged her -into the main waiting room, saw her thrust through the doors. Things -were quieting even then. And I saw two women hastening toward her -through the fight, and I do not think it was a coincidence that the -steam went out of the rioters almost at once. - -I stayed at the clinic until everything was peaceful again, though it -was hours. - -I wasn't fooling myself. I didn't have a shred of real reason for not -having her arrested. If she had information to give, I was not the type -to trick it out of her--even if she really was waiting at the Umberto, -which was, in itself, not likely. If I had turned her in, Defoe would -have had the information out of her in moments; but not I. - -She was an enemy of the Company. - -And I was unable to betray her. - - -VII - -Dr. Lawton, who seemed to be Chief Medical Officer for Anzio Clinic, -said grimly: "This wasn't an accident. It was planned. The question is, -why?" - -The expediters had finished driving the rioters out of the clinic -itself, and gas guns were rapidly dispersing the few left outside the -entrance. At least thirty unconscious forms were scattered around--and -one or two that were worse than unconscious. - -I said, "Maybe they were hoping to loot the clinic." It wasn't a very -good lie. But then, I hadn't had much practice in telling lies to an -officer of the Company. - -Lawton pursed his lips and ignored the suggestion. "Tell me something, -Wills. What were you doing down below?" - -I said quickly, "Below? You mean a half an hour ago?" - -"That's what I mean." He was gentle, but--well, not exactly suspicious. -Curious. - -I improvised: "I--I thought I saw someone running down there. One -of the rioters. So I chased after her--after _him_," I corrected, -swallowing the word just barely in time. - -He nodded. "Find anything?" - -It was a tough question. Had I been seen going in or coming out? If it -was coming out--Rena had been with me. - -I took what we called a "calculated risk"--that is, I got a firm grip -on my courage and told a big fat and possibly detectable lie. I said, -"Nobody that I could find. But I still think I heard something. The -trouble is, I don't know the vaults very well. I was afraid I'd get -lost." - -Apparently it was on the way in that I had been spotted, for Lawton -said thoughtfully, "Let's take a look." - -We took a couple of battered expediters with us--I didn't regard them -as exactly necessary, but I couldn't see how I could tell Lawton -that. The elevators were working again, so we came out in a slightly -different part of the vaults than I had seen before; it was not -entirely acting on my part when I peered around. - -Lawton accepted my statement that I wasn't quite sure where I had heard -the noises, without argument. He accepted it all too easily; he sent -the expediters scouring the corridors at random. - -And, of course, one of them found the pool of spilled fluorescence -from the hypodermic needle I had knocked out of Rena's hand. - - * * * * * - -We stood there peering at the smear of purplish color, the shattered -hypodermic, Rena's gas gun. - -Lawton mused, "Looks like someone's trying to wake up some of our -sleepers. That's our standard antilytic, if I'm not mistaken." He -scanned the shelves. "Nobody missing around here. Take a look in the -next few sections of the tiers." - -The expediters saluted and left. - -"They won't find anyone missing," Lawton predicted. "And _that_ means -we have to take a physical inventory of the whole damn clinic. Over -eighty thousand suspendees to check." He made a disgusted noise. - -I said, "Maybe they were scared off before they finished." - -"Maybe. Maybe not. We'll have to check, that's all." - -"Are you sure that stuff is to revive the suspendees?" I persisted. -"Couldn't it just have been someone wandering down here by mistake -during the commotion and--" - -"And carrying a hypodermic needle by mistake, and armed with a gas gun -by mistake. Sure, Wills." - -The expediters returned and Lawton looked at them sourly. - -They shook their heads. He shrugged. "Tell you what, Wills," he said. -"Let's go back to the office and--" - -He stopped, peering down the corridor. The last of our expediters was -coming toward us--not alone. - -"Well, what do you know!" said Lawton. "Wills, it looks like he's got -your fugitive!" - -The expediter was dragging a small writhing figure behind him; we could -hear whines and pleading. For a heart-stopping second, I thought it was -Rena, against all logic. - -But it wasn't. It was a quavery ancient, a bleary-eyed wreck of a man, -long past retirement age, shabbily dressed and obviously the sort who -cut his pension policies to the barest minimum--and then whined when -his old age was poverty-stricken. - -Lawton asked me: "This the man?" - -"I--I couldn't recognize him," I said. - - * * * * * - -Lawton turned to the weeping old man. "Who were you after?" he -demanded. All he got was sobbing pleas to let him go; all he was likely -to get was more of the same. The man was in pure panic. - -We got him up to one of the receiving offices on the upper level, half -carried by the expediters. Lawton questioned him mercilessly for half -an hour before giving up. The man was by then incapable of speech. - -He had said, as nearly as we could figure it out, only that he was -sorry he had gone into the forbidden place, he didn't mean to go -into the forbidden place, he had been sleeping in the shadow of the -forbidden place when fighting began and he fled inside. - -It was perfectly apparent to me that he was telling the truth--and, -more, that any diversionary riot designed to get _him_ inside with -a hypodermic and gas gun would have been planned by maniacs, for I -doubted he could have found the trigger of the gun. But Lawton seemed -to think he was lying. - -It was growing late. Lawton offered to drive me to my hotel, leaving -the man in the custody of the expediters. On the way, out of curiosity, -I asked: "Suppose he had succeeded? Can you revive a suspendee as -easily as that, just by sticking a needle in his arm?" - -Lawton grunted. "Pretty near, that and artificial respiration. One case -in a hundred might need something else--heart massage or an incubator, -for instance. But most of the time an antilytic shot is enough." - -Then Rena had not been as mad as I thought. - -I said: "And do you think that old man could have accomplished -anything?" - -Lawton looked at me curiously. "Maybe." - -"Who do you suppose he was after?" - -Lawton said off-handedly. "He was right near Bay 100, wasn't he?" - -"Bay 100?" Something struck a chord; I remembered following Rena down -the corridor, passing a door that was odd in some way. Was the number -100 on that door? "Is that the one that's locked off, with the sign on -it that says anybody who goes in is asking for trouble?" - -"That's the one. Though," he added, "nobody is going to get in. That -door is triple-plate armor; the lock opens only to the personal -fingerprint pattern of Defoe and two or three others." - -"What's inside it that's so important?" - -He said coldly, "How would I know? I can't open the door." And that was -the end of the conversation. I knew _he_ was lying. - - * * * * * - -I had changed my bet with myself on the way. I won it. Rena was in the -room waiting for me. She was sound asleep, stretched out on the bed. -She looked as sober-faced and intent in her sleep as a little girl--a -look I had noticed in Marianna's sleeping face once. - -It was astonishing how little I thought about Marianna any more. - -I considered very carefully before I rang for a bellboy, but it seemed -wisest to let her sleep and take my chances with the house detective, -if any. There was none, it turned out. In fact, the bellboy hardly -noticed her--whether out of indifference or because he was well aware -that I had signed for the room with an official travel-credit card of -the Company, it didn't much matter. He succeeded in conveying, without -saying a word, that the Blue Sky was the limit. - -I ordered dinner, waving away the menu and telling him to let the chef -decide. The chef decided well. Among other things, there was a bottle -of champagne in a bucket of ice. - -Rena woke up slowly at first, and then popped to a sitting position, -eyes wide. I said quickly, "Everything's all right. No one saw you at -the clinic." - -She blinked once. In a soft voice, she said, "Thank you." She sighed a -very small sigh and slipped off the bed. - -I realized as Rena was washing up, comparisons were always odious, -but--Well, if a strange man had found Marianna with her dress hitched -halfway up her thigh, asleep on his bed, he'd have been in for -something. What the "something" would be might depend on circumstances; -it might be a raging order to knock before he came in, it might only -be a storm of blushes and a couple of hours of meticulously prissy -behavior. But she wouldn't just let it slide. And Rena, by simply -disregarding it, was as modest as any girl could be. - -After all, I told myself, warming to the subject, it wasn't as if -I were some excitable adolescent. I could see a lovely girl's legs -without getting all stirred up. For that matter, I hardly even noticed -them, come to think of it. And if I _did_ notice them, it was certainly -nothing of any importance; I had dismissed it casually, practically -forgotten it, in fact. - -She came back and said cheerfully, "I'm hungry!" And so, I realized, -was I. - -We started to eat without much discussion, except for the necessary -talk of the table. I felt very much at ease sitting across from her, -in spite of the fact that she had placed herself in opposition to -the Company. I felt relaxed and comfortable; nothing bothered me. -Certainly, I went on in my mind, I was as free and easy with her as -with any man; it didn't matter that she was an attractive girl at all. -I wasn't thinking of her in that way, only as someone who needed some -help. - -I came to. She was looking at me with friendly curiosity. She said, "Is -that an American idiom, Tom, when you said, 'Please pass the legs'?" - - * * * * * - -We didn't open the champagne: it didn't seem quite appropriate. We had -not discussed anything of importance while we were eating, except that -I had told her about the old man; she evidently knew nothing about him. -She was concerned, but I assured her he was safe with the Company--what -did she think they were, barbarians? She didn't answer. - -But after dinner, with our coffee, I said: "Now let's get down to -business. What were you doing in the clinic?" - -"I was trying to rescue my father," she said. - -"Rescue, Rena? Rescue from what?" - -"Tom, please. You believe in the Company, do you not?" - -"Of course!" - -"And I do not. We shall never agree. I am grateful to you for not -turning me in, and I think perhaps I know what it cost you to do it. -But that is all, Tom." - -"But the Company--" - -"When you speak of the Company, what is it you see? Something shining -and wonderful? It is not that way with me; what I see is--rows of my -friends, frozen in the vaults or the expediters and that poor old man -you caught." - -There was no reasoning with her. She had fixed in her mind that all the -suspendees were the victims of some sinister brutality. Of course, it -wasn't like that at all. - -Suspension wasn't death; everyone knew that. In fact, it was the -antithesis of death. It _saved_ lives by taking the maimed and sick and -putting them mercifully to sleep, until they could be repaired. - -True, their bodies grew cold, the lungs stopped pumping, the heart -stopped throbbing; true, no doctor could tell, on sight, whether a -suspendee was "alive" or "dead." The life processes were not entirely -halted, but they were slowed enormously--enough so that chemical -diffusion in the jellylike blood carried all the oxygen the body -needed. But there was a difference: The dead were dead, whereas the -suspendees could be brought back to life at any moment the Company -chose. - -But I couldn't make her see that. I couldn't even console her by -reminding her that the old man was a mere Class E. For so was she. - -I urged reasonably: "Rena, you think something is going on under the -surface. Tell me about it. Why do you think your father was put in -suspension?" - -"To keep him out of the way. Because the Company is afraid of him." - -I played a trump card: "Suppose I told you the _real_ reason he's in -the vaults." - - * * * * * - -She was hit by that, I could tell. She was staring at me with wonder in -her eyes. - -"You don't have to speculate about it, Rena. I looked up his record, -you see." - -"You--you--" - -I nodded. "It's right there in black and white. They're trying to save -his life. He has radiation poisoning. He was a war casualty. It's -standard medical practice in cases like his to put them in suspension -for a while, until the level of radioactivity dies down and they can -safely be revived. Now what do you say?" - -She merely stared at me. - -I pressed on persuasively: "Rena, I don't mean to call your beliefs -superstitions or anything like that. Please understand me. You have -your own cultural heritage and--well, I know that it looks as though he -is some kind of 'undead,' or however you put it, in your folk stories. -I know there are legends of vampires and zombies and so on, but--" - -She was actually laughing. "You're thinking of Central Europe, Tom, -not Naples. And anyway--" she was laughing only with her eyes now--"I -do not believe that the legends say that vampires are produced by -intravenous injections of chlorpromazine and pethidine in a lytic -solution--which is, I believe, the current technique at the clinics." - -I flared peevishly: "Damn it, don't you want him saved?" - -The laughter was gone. She gently touched my hand. "I'm sorry. I don't -mean to be a shrew and that remark wasn't kind. Must we discuss it?" - -"Yes!" - -"Very well." She faced me, chin out and fierce. "My father does not -have radiation poisoning, Tom." - -"He does." - -"He does not! He is a prisoner, not a patient. He loved Naples. -That's why he was put to sleep--for fifty years, or a hundred, until -everything he knew and loved grows away from him and nobody cares what -he has to say any more. They won't kill him--they don't have to! They -just want him out of the way, because he sees the Company for what it -is." - -"And what is that?" - -"Tyranny, Tom," she said quietly. - - * * * * * - -I burst out, "Rena, that's silly! The Company is the hope of the world. -If you talk like that, you'll be in trouble. That's dangerous thinking, -young lady. It attacks the foundations of our whole society!" - -"Good! I was hoping it would!" - -We were shouting at each other like children. I took time to remember -one of the priceless rules out of the Adjusters' Handbook: _Never -lose your temper; think before you speak_. We glared at each other in -furious silence for a moment before I forced myself to simmer down. - -Only then did I remember that I needed to know something she might be -able to tell me. Organization, Defoe had said--an organization that -opposed the Company, that was behind Hammond's death and the riot at -the clinic and more, much more. - -"Rena, why did your friends kill Hammond?" - -Her poise was shaken. "Who?" she asked. - -"Hammond. In Caserta. By a gang of anti-Company hoodlums." - -Her eyes flashed, but she only said: "I know nothing of any killings." - -"Yet you admit you belong to a subversive group?" - -"I admit nothing," she said shortly. - -"But you do. I know you do. You said as much to me, when you were -prevented from reviving your father." - -She shrugged. - -I went on: "Why did you call me at the office, Rena? Was it to get me -to help you work against the Company?" - -She looked at me for a long moment. Then she said: "It was. And would -you like to know why I picked you?" - -"Well, I suppose--" - -"Don't suppose, Tom." Her nostrils were white. She said coldly: "You -seemed like a very good bet, as far as we could tell. I will tell you -something you don't know. There is a memorandum regarding you in the -office of the Chief of Expediters in Naples. I do not choose to tell -you how I know of it, but even your Mr. Gogarty doesn't know it exists. -It is private and secret, and it says of you, 'Loyalty doubtful. -Believed in contact with underground movement. Keep under close but -secret surveillance'." - - * * * * * - -That one rocked me, I admit. "But that's all wrong!" I finally burst -out. "I admit I went through a bad time after Marianna died, but--" - -She was smiling, though still angry. "Are you apologizing to _me_?" - -"No, but--" I stopped. That was a matter to be taken up with Defoe, I -told myself, and I was beginning to feel a little angry, too. - -"All right," I said. "There's been a mistake; I'll see that it's -straightened out. But even if it was true, did you think I was the kind -of man to join a bunch of murderers?" - -"We are not murderers!" - -"Hammond's body says different." - -"We had nothing to do with that, Tom!" - -"Your friend Slovetski did." It was a shot in the dark. It missed by a -mile. - -She said loftily: "If he is such a killer, how did you escape? When I -had my interview with you, and it became apparent that the expediters -were less than accurate, the information came a little late. You could -easily have given us trouble--Slovetski was in the next room. Why -didn't he shoot you dead?" - -"Maybe he didn't want to be bothered with my body." - -"And maybe you are all wrong about us!" - -"No! If you're against the Company, I _can't_ be wrong. The Company is -the greatest blessing the world has ever known--it's made the world a -paradise!" - -"It has?" She made a snorting sound. "How?" - -"By bringing countless blessings to all of us. _Countless!_" - -She was shaking with the effort of controlling her temper. "Name one!" - -I swore in exasperation. "All right," I said. "It ended war." - -She nodded--not a nod of agreement, but because she had expected that -answer. "Right out of the textbooks and propaganda pieces, Tom. Tell -me, why is my father in the vaults?" - -"Because he has radiation poisoning!" - -"And how did he get this radiation poisoning?" - -"How?" I blinked at her. "You know how, Rena. In the war between Naples -and--the war--" - - * * * * * - -Rena said remorselessly, "That's right, Tom, the war. The war that -couldn't have existed, because the Company ended war--everybody knows -that. Ah, Tom! For God, tell me, why is the world blind? Everyone -believes, no one questions. The Company ended war--it says so itself. -And the blind world never sees the little wars that rage, all the time, -one upon the heels of another. The Company has ended disease. But how -many deaths are there? The Company has abolished poverty. But am I -living in riches, Tom? Was the old man who ran into the vaults?" - -I stammered, "But--but, Rena, the statistical charts show very -clearly--" - -"No, Tom," she said, gentle again. "The statistical charts show _less_ -war, not no war. They show _less_ disease." - -She rubbed her eyes wearily--and even then I thought: Marianna wouldn't -have dared; it would have smeared her mascara. - -"The trouble with you, Tom, is that you're an American. You don't -know how it is in the world, only in America. You don't know what it -was like after the Short War, when America won and the flying squads -of Senators came over and the governments that were left agreed to -defederate. You're used to a big and united country, not little -city-states. You don't have thousands of years of intrigue and tyranny -and plot behind you, so you close your eyes and plunge ahead, and if -the charts show things are getting a _little_ better, you think they -are perfect." - -She shook her head. "But not us, Tom. We can't afford that. We walk -with eyes that dart about, seeking danger. Sometimes we see ghosts, -but sometimes we see real menace. You look at the charts and you see -that there are fewer wars than before. We--we look at the charts and we -see our fathers and brothers dead in a little war that hardly makes a -ripple on the graph. You don't even see them, Tom. You don't even see -the disease cases that don't get cured--because the techniques are -'still experimental,' they say. You don't--Tom! What is it?" - -I suppose I showed the pain of remembrance. I said with an effort, -"Sorry, Rena. You made me think of something. Please go on." - -"That's all of it, Tom. You in America can't be blamed. The big -lie--the lie so preposterous that it cannot be questioned, the thing -that proves itself because it is so unbelievable that no one would say -it if it weren't true--is not an American invention. It is European, -Tom. You aren't inoculated against it. We are." - - * * * * * - -I took a deep breath. "What about your father, Rena? Do you really -think the Company is out to get him?" - -She looked at me searchingly, then looked hopelessly away. "Not as you -mean it, Tom," she said at last. "No, I am no paranoid. I think he -is--inconvenient. I think the Company finds him less trouble in the -deep-freeze than he would be walking around." - -"But don't you agree that he needs treatment?" - -"For what? For the radiation poisoning that he got from the atomic -explosion he was nowhere near, Tom? Remember, he is my father! I was -with him in the war--and he never stirred a kilometer from our home. -You've been there, the big house where my aunt Luisa now lives. Did -you see bomb craters there?" - -"_That's a lie!_" I had to confess it to myself: Rena was beginning to -mean something to me. But there were emotional buttons that even she -couldn't push. If she had been a man, any man, I would have had my fist -in her face before she had said that much; treason against the Company -was more than I could take. "You can't convince me that the Company -deliberately falsifies records. Don't forget, Rena, I'm an executive of -the Company! Nothing like that could go on!" - -Her eyes flared, but her lips were rebelliously silent. - -I said furiously: "I'll hear no more of that. Theoretical discussions -are all right; I'm as broad-minded as the next man. But when you accuse -the Company of outright fraud, you--well, you're mistaken." - -We glowered at each other for a long moment. My eyes fell first. - -I said sourly, "I'm sorry if I called you a liar. I--I didn't mean to -be offensive." - -"Nor I, Tom," she hesitated. "Will you remember that I asked you not to -make me discuss it?" - -She stood up. "Thank you very much for a dinner. And for listening. And -most of all, for giving me another chance to rescue my father." - -I looked at my watch automatically--and incredulously. "It's late, -Rena. Have you a place to stay?" - -She shrugged. "N--yes, of course, Tom. Don't worry about me; I'll be -all right." - -"Are you sure?" - -"Very sure." - - * * * * * - -Her manner was completely confident--so much so that I knew it for an -act. - -I said: "Please, Rena, you've been through a tough time and I don't -want you wandering around. You can't get back to Naples tonight." - -"I know." - -"Well?" - -"Well what, Tom?" she said. "I won't lie to you--I haven't a place to -go to here. I would have had, this afternoon, if I had succeeded. But -by now, everything has changed. They--that is, my friends will assume -that I have been captured by the Company. They won't be where I could -find them, Tom. Say they are silly if you wish. But they will fear that -the Company might--request me to give their names." - -I said crisply, "Stay here, Rena. No--listen to me. You stay here. I'll -get another room." - -"Thank you, Tom, but you can't. There isn't a room in Anzio; there are -families of suspendees sleeping in the grass tonight." - -"I can sleep in the grass if I have to." - -She shook her head. "Thank you," she repeated. - -I stood between her and the door. "Then we'll both stay here. I'll -sleep on the couch. You can have the bed." I hesitated, then added, -"You can trust me, Rena." - -She looked at me gravely for a moment. Then she smiled. "I'm sure I -can, Tom. I appreciate your offer. I accept." - - * * * * * - -I am built too long for a hotel-room couch, particularly a room in a -Mediterranean coastal fleabag. I lay staring into the white Italian -night; the Moon brightened the clouds outside the window, and the room -was clearly enough illuminated to show me the bed and the slight, -motionless form in it. Rena was not a restless sleeper, I thought. Nor -did she snore. - -Rena was a most self-possessed girl, in fact. She had overruled me when -I tried to keep the bellboy from clearing away the dinner service. -"Do you think no other Company man ever had a girl in his room?" she -innocently asked. She borrowed a pair of the new pajamas Defoe's -thoughtful expediters had bought and put in the bureau. But I hadn't -expected that, while the bellboy was clearing away, she would be -softly singing to herself in the bath. - -He had seemed not even to hear. - -He had also leaped to conclusions--not that it was much of a leap, I -suppose. But he had conspicuously not removed the bottle of champagne -and its silver bucket of melting ice. - -It felt good, being in the same room with Rena. - -I shifted again, hunching up my torso to give my legs a chance to -stretch out. I looked anxiously to see if the movement had disturbed -her. - -There is a story about an animal experimenter who left a chimpanzee in -an empty room. He closed the door on the ape and bent to look through -the key-hole, to see what the animal would do. But all he saw was an -eye--because the chimp was just as curious about the experimenter. - -In the half-light, I saw a sparkle of moonlight in Rena's eye; she was -watching me. She half-giggled, a smothered sound. - -"You ought to be asleep," I accused. - -"And you, Tom." - -I obediently closed my eyes, but I didn't stop seeing her. - -_It only she weren't a fanatic._ - -And if she had to be a fanatic, why did she have to be the one kind -that was my natural enemy, a member of the group of irresponsible -troublemakers that Defoe had ordered me to "handle"? - -What, I wondered, did he mean by "handle"? Did it include -chlorpromazine in a lytic solution and a plastic cocoon? - -I put that thought out of my mind; there was no chance whatever -that her crazy belief, that the Company was using suspension as a -retaliatory measure, was correct. But thinking of Defoe made me think -of my work. After all, I told myself, Rena was more than a person. She -was a key that could unlock the whole riddle. She had the answers--if -there was a movement of any size, she would know its structure. - -I thought for a moment and withdrew the "if." She had admitted the riot -of that afternoon was planned. It _had_ to be a tightly organized group. - -And she had to have the key. - - * * * * * - -At last, I had been getting slightly drowsy, but suddenly I was wide -awake. - -There were two possibilities. I faced the first of them shakily--_she -might be right_. Everything within me revolted against the notion, but -I accepted it as a theoretical possibility. If so, I would, of course, -have to revise some basic notions. - -On the other hand, she might be wrong. I was certain she _was_ wrong. -But I was equally certain she was no raddled malcontent and if she -was wrong, and I could prove it to her, she herself might make some -revisions. - -Propped on one elbow, I peered at her. "Rena?" I whispered -questioningly. - -She stirred. "Yes, Tom?" - -"If you're not asleep, can we take a couple more minutes to talk?" - -"Of course." I sat up and reached for the light switch, but she said, -"Must we have the lights? The Moon is very bright." - -"Sure." I sat on the edge of the couch and reached for a cigarette. -"Can I offer you a deal, Rena?" - -"What sort of deal?" - -"A horsetrade. You think the Company is corrupt and your father is not -a casualty, right?" - -"Correct, Tom." - -"And I think the Company is not corrupt and your father has radiation -poisoning. One of us has to be wrong, right?" - -"Correct, Tom." - -"Let's find out. There are ways of testing for radiation-sickness. I'll -go into the clinic in the morning and get the answer." - -She also lifted up on one elbow, peering at me, her long hair braided -down her back. "Will you?" - -"Sure. And we'll make bets on it, Rena. If you are wrong--if your -father has radiation poisoning--I want you to tell me everything -there is to tell about the riot today and the people behind it. If I'm -wrong--" I swallowed--"if I'm wrong, I'll get your father out of there -for you. Somehow. I promise it, Rena." - -There was absolute silence for a long time. Then she swung out of the -bed and hurried over to me, her hands on mine. She looked at me and -again I saw tears. "Will you do that, Tom?" she asked, hardly audible. - -"Why, sure," I said awkwardly. "But you have to promise--" - -"I promise!" - -She was staring at me, at arm's length. And then something happened. -She wasn't staring and she wasn't at arm's length. - -Kissing her was like tasting candied violets; and the Moon made -her lovelier than anything human; and the bellboy had not been so -presumptuous, after all, when he left us the champagne. - - -VIII - -Dr. Lawton was "away from his desk" the next morning. That was all to -the good. I was not a hardened enough conspirator to seek out chances -to make mistakes, and although I had a perfectly good excuse for -wanting to go down into the vaults again, I wasn't anxious to have to -use it. - -The expediter-officer in charge, though, didn't even ask for reasons. -He furnished me with what I wanted--a map of the vaults and a -radiation-counter--and turned me loose. - -Looking at the map, I was astonished at the size of this subterranean -pyramid. Lawton had said we had eighty-odd thousand sleepers filed away -and that had surprised me, but by the chart I held in my hand, there -was space for perhaps ten times that many. It was beyond belief that so -much space was really needed, I thought--unless there was some truth to -Rena's belief that the Company used the clinics for prisons.... - -I applied myself to the map. - -And, naturally, I read it wrong. It was very simple; I merely went to -the wrong level, that was all. - -It looked wrong as soon as I stepped out of the elevator. An elderly, -officious civilian with a British accent barred my way. "You aren't one -of us, are you?" - -I said, "I doubt it." - -"Then would you mind?" he asked politely, and indicated a spot on the -side of the hall. Perhaps I was suggestible, but I obeyed his request -without question. It was just as well, because a sort of procession -rounded a bend and came down the corridor. There was a wheeled -stretcher, with three elderly civilians puttering around it, and a -bored medic following with a jar of something held aloft, feeding -through a thin plastic tube into the arm of the man on the stretcher, -as well as half a dozen others of more nondescript types. - -The man who had stopped me nearly ran to meet the stretcher. He stared -into the waxy face and whispered, "It's he! Oh, absolutely, it is he!" - -I looked and the face was oddly familiar. It reminded me of my -childhood; it had a link with school days and the excitement of turning -twelve. By the way the four old men were carrying on, however, it meant -more than that to them. It meant, if not the Second Coming, at least -something close to it. - -By then I had figured out that this was that rare event in the day of -a clinic--a revival. I had never seen one. I suppose I could have got -out of the way and gone about my conspiratorial business, and it is no -credit to me as a conspirator that I did not. But I was fascinated. - -Too fascinated to wonder why revivals were so rare.... - - * * * * * - -The medic looked at his watch and, with careless efficiency, plucked -the tube out of the waxy man's arm. - -"Two minutes," he said to one of the civilians. "Then he'll be as good -as he ever was. You've got his clothes and release papers?" - -"Oh, definitely," said the civilian, beaming. - -"Okay. And you understand that the Company takes no responsibility -beyond the policy covering? After all, he was one of the first men -suspended. We think we can give him another year or so--which is a year -more than he would have had, at that--but he's not what you'd call a -Grade A risk." - -"Certainly," agreed the civilian. "Can we talk to him now?" - -"As soon as he opens his eyes." - -The civilian bent over the man, who no longer looked waxy. His face -was now a mottled gray and his eyelids were flickering. He had begun -to breathe heavily and irregularly, and he was mumbling something I -couldn't understand. The civilian whispered in his ear and the revived -man opened his eyes and looked at him. - -It was like seeing the dead come to life. It was exactly that, in fact; -twenty minutes before, no chemical test, no stethoscope or probing -thumb in the eye socket could have detected the faint living glow in -the almost-dead cells. And yet--now he looked, he breathed, he spoke. - -"I made it," were his first understandable words. - -"Indeed you did!" crowed the civilian in charge, while all of the -others murmured happily to each other. "Sir, it is my pleasure to -welcome you back to us. You are in Anzio, Italy. And I am Thomas -Welbourne, at your service." - -The faint eyes sparkled. Dead, near-dead or merely decrepit, this was -a man who wanted to enjoy life. Minutes out of the tomb, he said: "No! -Not young Tommy Welbourne!" - -"His grandson, sir," said the civilian. - -I had it just then--that face had watched me through a whole year of -school. It had been in a frame at the front of the room, with half a -dozen other faces. It had a name under it, which, try as I might, I -couldn't recall; but the face was there all the same. It was an easy -one to keep in mind--strong though sunken, ancient but very much alive. - -He was saying, in a voice as confident as any youth's, "Ah, Tommy, I've -lived to see it! Tell me, have you been to Mars? What is on the other -side of the Moon? And the Russians--what are the Russians up to these -days?" - -The civilian coughed and tried to interrupt, but the figure on the -stretcher went on heedlessly: "All those years gone--what wonders must -we have. A tunnel under the Atlantic, I'll wager! And ships that fly a -hundred times the speed of sound. Tell me, Tommy Welbourne! Don't keep -an old man waiting!" - - * * * * * - -The civilian said reluctantly, but patiently, "Perhaps it will take a -little explaining, sir. You see, there have been changes--" - -"I know it, boy! That's what I'm asking you!" - -"Well, not that sort of changes, sir. We've learned new virtues since -your time--patience and stability, things of that sort. You see--" - -The interesting part was over and the glances of the others in the -party reminded me that I didn't belong here. I stole off, but not -before the man on the stretcher noticed me and made a sort of clumsy -two-fingered salute of hail and farewell as I left. It was exactly like -the gesture in his picture on that schoolroom wall, up next to the -presidents and the greatest of kings. - -I found a staircase and climbed to another level of the boxlike clinic. - -The local peasants called the vaults "coolers" or "ice cubes." I -suppose the reason had something to do with the fact that they were -cool and rectangular, on the whole--perhaps because, like icebergs, the -great bulk of the vaults was below the surface. But whatever you called -them, they were huge. And the clinic at Anzio was only one out of -hundreds scattered all over the world. - -It was all a matter of viewpoint. To me, the clinics were emblems of -the Company's concern for the world. In any imaginable disaster--even -if some fantastic plague struck the entire race at once--the affected -population could be neatly and effectively preserved until medicine -could catch up with their cures. - -To Rena, they were prisons big enough to hold the human race. - -It was time to find out which of us was right. I hurried through the -corridors, between the tiers of sleepers, almost touching them on both -sides. I saw the faint purplish gleam where Rena had spilled the fluid, -and knelt beside the cocoon that held her father. - -The UV sterilizers overhead made everything look ghastly violet, but in -any light, the waxy face under the plastic would have looked dead as -death itself. I couldn't blame Rena for weeping. - -I took out the little radiation counter and looked at it awkwardly. -There was nothing complicated about the device--fortunately, because -I had had little experience with them. It was a cylinder with a -flaring snout at one end, a calibrated gauge at the side, marked in -micro-roentgens. The little needle flickered in the green area of the -dial. I held it to myself and the reading didn't change. I pointed it -up and pointed it down; it didn't change. - -I held it to the radiation-seared body of Benedetto dell'Angela. - -And it didn't change. - -Radiation-seared? Not unless the instrument lied! If dell'Angela -had ever in his life been within the disaster radius of an atomic -explosion, it had been so long before that every trace of radioactive -byproduct was gone! - -Rena was right! - - * * * * * - -I worked like a machine, hardly thinking. I stood up and hurriedly -touched the ion-tasting snout of the counter to the body on the shelf -above Benedetto, the one above that, a dozen chosen at random up and -down the aisle. - -Two of them sent the needle surging clear off the scale; three were -as untainted by radioactivity as Benedetto himself. A few others gave -readings from "mild" to "lethal"--but all in the danger area. - -_Most were as untainted by radiation as Benedetto himself._ - -It was possible, I told myself frantically, that there were mysteries -here I did not understand. Perhaps after a few months or a year, the -radiation level would drop, so that the victim was still in deadly -danger while the emitted radiation of his body was too slight to -affect the counter. I didn't see how, but it was worth a thought. -Anything was worth a thought that promised another explanation to this -than the one Rena had given! - -There had been, I remembered, a score or more of new suspendees in the -main receiving vault at the juncture of the corridors. I hurried back -to it. Here were fresh cases, bound to show on the gauge. - -I leaned over the nearest one, first checking to make sure its -identification tag was the cross-hatched red one that marked -"radiation." I brought the counter close to the shriveled face-- - -But I didn't read the dial, not at first. I didn't have to. For I -recognized that face. I had seen it, contorted in terror, mumbling -frantic pleas for mercy, weeping and howling, on the old Class E -uninsurable the expediters had found hiding in the vaults. - -_He_ had no radiation poisoning ... unless a bomb had exploded in these -very vaults in the past twelve hours. - -It wasn't pleasant to stand there and stare around the vaults that were -designed for the single purpose of saving human life--and to wonder how -many of the eighty thousand souls it held were also prisoners. - -And it wasn't even tolerable to think the thought that followed. If -the Company was corrupt, and I had worked to do the Company's business, -how much of this guilt was mine? - -The Company, I had said and thought and tried to force others to agree, -was the hope of humanity--the force that had permanently ended war -(almost), driven out disease (nearly), destroyed the threat to any -human of hunger or homelessness (in spite of the starving old man who -slept in the shadow of the crypt, and others like him). - - * * * * * - -But I had to face the facts that controverted the Big Lie. If war was -ended, what about Naples and Sicily, and Prague and Vienna, and all the -squabbles in the Far East? _If there was no danger from disease, why -had Marianna died?_ - -Rena had said that if there was no danger of disaster, no one would -have paid their premiums. Obviously the Company could not have -wanted that, but why had I never seen it before? Sample wars, sample -deaths--the Company needed them. And no one, least of all me, fretted -about how the samples felt about it. - -Well, that was behind me. I'd made a bet with Rena, and I'd lost, and I -had to pay off. - -I opened the cased hypodermic kit Rena had given me and examined -it uncomfortably. I had never used the old-fashioned sort of needle -hypodermic; I knew a little something about the high-pressure spray -type that forced its contents into the skin without leaving a mark, but -I was very far from sure that I could manage this one without doing -something wrong. Besides, there wasn't much of the fluid left, only the -few drops left in the bottom of the bottle after Rena had loaded the -needle that had been smashed. - -I hurried back along the corridor toward Benedetto dell'Angela. I -neared again the red-labeled door marked Bay 100, glanced at it in -passing--and stopped. - -This was the door that only a handful of people could open. It was -labeled in five languages: "Entrance Strictly Prohibited. Experimental -Section." - -Why was it standing ajar? - -And I heard a faint whisper of a moan: "_Aiutemi, aiutemi._" - -Someone inside was calling for help! - -If I had been a hardened conspirator, I would never have stopped to -investigate. But, of course, I wasn't. I pushed the door aside, against -resistance, and peered in. - -And that was my third major shock in the past quarter of an hour, -because, writhing feebly just inside the door, staring up at me with an -expression of pain and anger, was Luigi Zorchi. - -He propped himself up on his hands, the rags of his plastic cocoon -dangling from his shoulders. - -"Oho," he said faintly. "The apprentice assassin again." - -I found water for him at a bubble-fountain by the ramp; he drank at -least a quart before I made him stop. Then he lay back, panting, -staring at me. Except for the shreds of plastic and the bandages around -the stumps of his legs, he was nude, like all the other suspendees -inside their sacks. The luxuriant hair had already begun to grow back. - - * * * * * - -He licked his lips. More vigorous now, he snarled: "The plan fails, -does it not? You think you have Zorchi out of the way, but he will not -stay there." - -I said, "Zorchi, I'm sorry about all this I--I know more now than I did -yesterday." - -He gaped. "Yesterday? Only _yesterday_?" He shook his head. "I would -have thought a month, at the least. I have been crawling, assassin. -Crawling for days, I thought." He tried to shrug--not easy, because he -was leaning on his elbows. "Very well, Weels. You may take me back to -finish the job now. Sticking me with a needle and putting me on ice -will not work. Perhaps you should kill me outright." - -"Listen, Zorchi, I _said_ I was sorry. Let's let it go at that for a -moment. I--I admit you shouldn't be here. The question is, how do you -come to be awake?" - -"How not? I am Zorchi, Weels. Cut me and I heal; poison me and I cure -myself." He spat furiously. "Starve me, however, and I no doubt will -die, and it is true that you have come very near to starving me down -here." He glowered at the shelves of cocooned bodies in the locked bay. -"A pity, with all this pork and beef on the rack, waiting for me, but I -find I am not a monster, Weels. It is a weakness; I do not suppose it -would stop any Company man for a moment." - -"Look, Zorchi," I begged, "take my word for it--I want to help you. You -might as well believe me, you know. You can't be any worse off than you -are." - -He stared at me sullenly for a moment. Then, "True enough," he -admitted. "What then, Weels?" - -I said hesitantly, "Well, I'd like to get you out of here...." - -"Oh, yes. I would like that, too. How shall we do it?" - -I rubbed the back of my neck thoughtfully, staring at him. I had had -a sort of half-baked, partly worked out plan for rescuing Benedetto. -Wake him up with the needle; find a medical orderly's whites somewhere; -dress him; and walk him out. - -It wasn't the best of all possible plans, but I had rank enough, -particularly with Defoe off in Rome, to take a few liberties or stop -questions if it became necessary. And besides, I hadn't really thought -I'd have to do it. I had fully expected--as recently as half an hour -ago!--that I would find Benedetto raddled with gamma rays, a certainty -for death if revived before the half-life period of the radioelements -in his body had brought the level down to safety. - - * * * * * - -That plan might work for Benedetto. But Zorchi, to mention only one -possible obstacle, couldn't walk. And Benedetto, once I took off his -beard with the razor Rena had insisted I bring for that purpose, would -not be likely to be recognized by anyone. - -Zorchi, on the other hand, was very nearly unforgettable. - -I said honestly, "I don't know." - -He nodded. "Nor do I, Weels. Take me then to your Defoe." His face -wrinkled in an expression of fury and fear. "Die I can, if I must, but -I do not wish to starve. It is good to be able to grow a leg, but do -you understand that the leg must come from somewhere? I cannot make -it out of air, Weels--I must eat. When I am in my home at Naples, I -eat five, six, eight times a day; it is the way my body must have it. -So if Defoe wishes to kill me, we will let him, but I must leave here -_now_." - -I shook my head. "Please understand me, Zorchi--I can't even do that -for you. I can't have anybody asking me what I was doing down in this -level." I hesitated only briefly; then, realizing that I was already in -so deeply that secrecy no longer mattered, I told him about Benedetto -dell'Angela, and the riot that failed, and my promise. - -His reaction was incredulity. "You did not know, Weels? The arms and -legs of the Company do not know what thoughts pass through its brain? -Truly, the Company is a wonderful thing! Even the peasants know this -much--the Company will do anything it must." - -"I admit I never guessed. Now what?" - -"That is up to you, Weels. If you try to take the two of us out, it -endangers you. It is for you to decide." - -So, of course, I could decide only one way. - -I hid the hypodermic behind one of the bodies in Bay 100; it was no -longer useful to me. I persuaded Zorchi to lie quietly in one of the -tiers near Benedetto, slammed the heavy door to Bay 100, and heard the -locks snap. That was the crossing of the Rubicon. You could open that -door easily enough from inside--that was to protect any personnel who -might be caught in there. But only Defoe and a couple of others could -open it from without, and the hypodermic was now as far out of reach as -the Moon. - -I opened Benedetto dell'Angela's face mask and shaved him, then sealed -it again. I found another suspendee of about the same build, made -sure the man was not radioactive, and transferred them. I switched -tags: Benedetto dell'Angela was now Elio Barletteria. Then I walked -unsteadily to the ramp, picked up the intercom and ordered the medical -officer in charge to come down. - - * * * * * - -It was not Dr. Lawton who came, fortunately, but one of his helpers who -had seen me before. I pointed to the pseudo-Barletteria. "I want this -man revived." - -He sputtered, "You--you can't just take a suspendee out of his trance, -Mr. Wills. It's a violation of medical ethics! These men are _sick_. -They--" - -"They'll be sicker still if we don't get some information from this -one," I said grimly. "Are you going to obey Mr. Defoe's orders or not?" - -He sputtered some more, but he gave in. His orderlies took Benedetto -to the receiving station at the foot of the vault; one of them stood by -while the doctor worriedly went through his routine. I sat and smoked, -watching the procedure. - -It was simple enough. One injection, a little chafing of the hands -and feet by the bored orderly while the doctor glowered and I stonily -refused to answer his questions, and a lot of waiting. And then the -"casualty" stirred and moaned. - -All the stand-by apparatus was there--the oxygen tent and the pulmotor -and the heart stimulator and so on. But none of it was needed. - -I said: "Fine, Doctor. Now send the orderly to have an ambulance -standing by at the main entrance, and make out an exit pass for this -casualty." - -"No!" the doctor shouted. "This is against every rule, Mr. Wills. I -insist on calling Dr. Lawton--" - -"By all means," I said. "But there isn't much time. Make out the pass -and get the ambulance, and we'll clear it with Dr. Lawton on the way -out." He was all ready to say no again when I added: "This is by direct -order of Mr. Defoe. Are you questioning his orders?" - -He wasn't--not as long as I was going to clear it with Dr. Lawton. -He did as I asked. One of the advantages of the Company's rigid -regulations was that it was hard to enforce strict security on its -personnel. If you didn't tell the staff that they were working -for something needing covering up, you couldn't expect them to be -constantly on guard. - -When the orderly was gone and the doctor had scrawled out the pass, I -said cordially, "Thank you, Doctor. Now would you like to know what all -the fuss was about?" - -"I certainly would," he snapped. "If you think--" - -"I'm sorry," I apologized. "Come over here and take a look at this man." - - * * * * * - -I juggled the radiation counter in my hand as he stalked over. "Take a -look at his eyes," I invited. - -"Are you trying to tell me that this is a dangerously radioactive case? -I warn you, Mr. Wills--" - -"No, no," I said. "See for yourself. Look at the right eye, just beside -the nose." - -He bent over the awakening body, searchingly. - -I clonked him with the radiation counter on the back of the head. They -must have retired that particular counter from service after that; it -wasn't likely to be very accurate any more. - -The orderly found me bending over the doctor's body and calling for -help. He bent, too, and he got the same treatment. Benedetto by then -was awake; he listened to me and didn't ask questions. The blessings of -dealing with conspirators--it was not necessary to explain things more -than once. - -And so, with a correctly uniformed orderly, who happened to be -Benedetto dell'Angela, pushing the stretcher, and with myself -displaying a properly made out pass to the expediter at the door, we -rolled the sham-unconscious body of Luigi Zorchi out to a waiting -ambulance. - -I felt my pulse hammering as we passed the expediter at the door. -I had thrown my coat over the place where legs should have been on -"Barletteria," and Benedetto's old plastic cocoon, into which we had -squeezed Zorchi, concealed most of him. - - * * * * * - -I needn't have worried. The expediter not only wasn't suspicious, he -wasn't even interested. - -Benedetto and I lifted Zorchi into the ambulance. Benedetto climbed -in after him and closed the doors, and I went to the front. "You're -dismissed," I told the driver. "I'll drive." - -As soon as we were out of sight of the clinic, I found a phone, got -Rena at the hotel, told her to meet me under the marquee. In five -minutes, she was beside me and we were heading for the roads to the -north. - -"You win," I told her. "Your father's in back--along with somebody -else. Now what? Do we just try to get lost in the hills somewhere?" - -"No, Tom," she said breathlessly. "I--I have made arrangements." She -giggled. "I walked around the square and around, until someone came up -to me. You do not know how many gentlemen came before that! But then -one of my--friends showed up, to see if I was all right, and I arranged -it. We go up the Rome highway two miles and there will be a truck." - -"Fine," I said, stepping on the gas. "Now do you want to climb back and -tell your father--" - -I stopped in the middle of the word. Rena peered at me. "Tom," she -asked anxiously, "is something wrong?" - -I swallowed, staring after a disappearing limousine in the rear-view -mirror. "I--hope not," I said. "But your friends had better be there, -because we don't have much time. I saw Defoe in the back of that -limousine." - - -IX - -Rena craned her neck around the door and peered into the nave of the -church. "He's kissing the Book," she reported. "It will be perhaps -twenty minutes yet." - -Her father said mildly, "I am in no hurry. It is good to rest here. -Though truthfully, Mr. Wills, I thought I had been rested sufficiently -by your Company." - -I think we were all grateful for the rest. It had been a hectic drive -up from Anzio. Even though Rena's "friends" were thoughtful people, -they had not anticipated that we would have a legless man with us. - -They had passports for Rena and myself and Benedetto; for Zorchi they -had none. It had been necessary for him to hide under a dirty tarpaulin -in the trunk of the ancient charcoal-burning car, while Rena charmed -the Swiss Guards at the border. And it was risky. But the Guards -charmed easily, and we got through. - -Zorchi did not much appreciate it. He swore a ragged blue streak when -we stopped in the shade of an olive grove and lugged him to the front -seat again, and he didn't stop swearing until we hit the Appian Way. -When the old gas-generator limped up a hill, he swore at its slowness; -when it whizzed along the downgrades and level stretches, he swore at -the way he was being bounced around. - -I didn't regret rescuing Zorchi from the clinic--it was a matter of -simple justice since I had helped trick him into it. But I did wish -that it had been some more companionable personality that I had been -obligated to. - -Benedetto, on the other hand, shook my hand and said: "For God, I thank -you," and I felt well repaid. But he was in the back seat being brought -up to date by his daughter; I had the honor of Zorchi's company next to -me.... - -There was a long Latin period from the church, a response from -the altar boy, and then the final _Ite, missa est_. We heard the -worshippers moving out of the church. - -The priest came through the room we were waiting in, his robes -swirling. He didn't look around, or give any sign that he knew we were -there, though he almost stepped on Zorchi, sitting propped against a -wall. - -A moment later, another man in vaguely clerical robes entered and -nodded to us. "Now we go below," he ordered. - -Benedetto and I flanked Zorchi and carried him, an arm around each -of our necks. We followed the sexton, or whatever he was, back into -the church, before the altar--Benedetto automatically genuflected -with the others, nearly making me spill Zorchi onto the floor--to a -tapestry-hung door. He pushed aside the tapestry, and a cool, musty -draft came up from darkness. - -The sexton lit a taper with a pocket cigarette lighter and led us down -winding, rickety steps. There was no one left in the church to notice -us; if anyone had walked in, we were tourists, doing as countless -millions of tourists had done before us over the centuries. - -We were visiting the Catacombs. - - * * * * * - -Around us were the bones of the Christians of a very different Rome. -Rena had told me about them: How they rambled under the modern city, -the only entrances where churches had been built over them. How they -had been nearly untouched for two thousand years. I even felt a little -as though I really were a tourist as we descended, she had made me that -curious to see them. - -But I was disappointed. We lugged the muttering Zorchi through the -narrow, musty corridors, with the bones of martyrs at our elbows, in -the flickering light of the taper, and I had the curious feeling that I -had been there before. - -As, in a way, I had: I had been in the vaults of the Company's clinic -at Anzio, in some ways very closely resembling these Catacombs-- - -Even to the bones of the martyrs. - -I was almost expecting to see plastic sacks. - -We picked our way through the warrens for several minutes, turning this -way and that. I was lost in the first minute. Then the sexton stopped -before a flat stone that had a crude, faded sketch of a fish on it; -he leaned on it, and the stone discovered itself to be a door. We -followed him through it into a metal-walled, high-ceilinged tunnel, -utterly unlike the meandering Catacombs. I began to hear sounds; we -went through another door, and light struck at our eyes. - -I blinked and focused on a long room, half a dozen yards wide, almost -as tall, at least fifty yards long. It appeared to be a section of an -enormous tunnel; it appeared to be, and it was. Benedetto and I set -Zorchi--still cursing--down on the floor and stared around. - -There were people in the tunnel, dozens of them. There were desks and -tables and file cabinets; it looked almost like any branch of the -Company, with whirring mimeographs and clattering typewriters. - -The sexton pinched out the taper and dropped it on the floor, as people -came toward us. - -"So now you are in our headquarters in Rome," said the man dressed as a -sexton. "It is good to see you again, Benedetto." - -"And it is much better to see you, Slovetski," the old man answered -warmly. - - * * * * * - -This man Slovetski--I do not think I can say what he looked like. - -He was, I found, the very leader of the "friends," the monarch of this -underground headquarters. But he was a far cry from the image I had -formed of a bearded agitator. There was a hint of something bright and -fearful in his eyes, but his voice was warm and deep, his manner was -reassuring, his face was friendly. Still--there was that cat-spark in -his eyes. - -Slovetski, that first day, gave me an hour of his time. He answered -some of my questions--not all. The ones he smiled at, and shook his -head, were about numbers and people. The ones he answered were about -principles and things. - -He would tell me, for instance, what he thought of the -Company--endlessly. But he wouldn't say how many persons in the world -were his followers. He wouldn't name any of the persons who were all -around us. But he gladly told me about the place itself. - -"History, Mr. Wills," he said politely. "History tells a man everything -he needs to know. You look in the books, and you will learn of -Mussolini, when this peninsula was all one state; he lived in Rome, -and he started a subway. The archives even have maps. It is almost all -abandoned now. Most of it was never finished. But the shafts are here, -and the wiring that lights us still comes from the electric mains." - -"And the only entrance is through the Catacombs?" - -The spark gleamed bright in his eye for a second. Then he shrugged. -"Why shouldn't I tell you? No. There are several others, but they are -not all convenient." He chuckled. "For instance, one goes through a -station on the part of the subway that is still in operation. But it -would not have done for you, you see; Rena could not have used it. It -goes through the gentlemen's washroom." - -We chuckled, Slovetski and I. I liked him. He looked like what he once -had been: a history teacher in a Company school, somewhere in Europe. -We talked about History, and Civilization, and Mankind, and all the -other capitalized subjects. He was very didactic and positive in what -he said, just like a history teacher. But he was understanding. He -made allowances for my background; he did not call me a fool. He was a -patient monk instructing a novice in the mysteries of the order, and I -was at ease with him. - -But there was still that spark in his eye. - -Rena disappeared almost as soon as we were safely in the tunnels. -Benedetto was around, but he was as busy as Slovetski, and just as -mysterious about what occupied him. So I had for company Zorchi. - -We had lunch. "Food!" he said, and the word was an epithet. "They offer -this to me for food! For pigs, Weels. Not for Zorchi!" He pushed the -plate away from him and stared morosely at the table. - -We were given a room to share, and one of Slovetski's men fixed up a -rope-and-pulley affair so Zorchi could climb into his bed unaided. He -was used to the help of a valet; the first time he tried it, he slipped -and fell on the stumps of his legs. It must have hurt. - -He shrieked, "Assassins! All of them! They put me in a kennel with the -apprentice assassin, and the other assassins make a guillotine for me -to kill myself on!" - -We had a long talk with Slovetski, on the ideals and principles of his -movement. Zorchi stared mutinously at the wall. I found the whole thing -very interesting--shocking, but interesting. But Zorchi was immune to -shock--"Perhaps it is news to you, Weels, that the Company is a big -beast?"--and he was interested in nothing in all the world but Zorchi. - -By the end of the second day I stopped talking to him entirely. It -wasn't kind. He disliked me, but he hated everyone else in the tunnel, -so he had no one to talk to. But it was either that or hit him in the -face, and--although many of my mores had changed overnight--I still -did not think I could strike a man without legs. - -And besides, the less I saw of Zorchi, the more time I had to think -about Rena. - - * * * * * - -She returned on the third day, without a word of explanation to me of -where she had been or what she had done. She greeted me and disappeared -again, this time only for hours. Then she came back and said, "Now I am -through, for a time. How have you liked our little hideaway?" - -I said, "It gets lonesome." - -"Lonesome?" Her brown eyes were wide and perfectly serious. "I had -thought it would be otherwise, Tom. So many of us in this little space, -how could you be lonesome?" - -I took her hand. "I'm not lonesome now," I told her. We found a place -to sit in a corner of the communal dining hall. Around us the life of -the underground movement buzzed and swirled. It was much like a branch -of the Company, as I have said; the work of this secret section seemed -to be mostly a record-keeping depot for the activities that took place -on the surface. But no one paid much attention to Rena and me. - -What did we talk about? What couples have always talked about: Each -other, and everything, and nothing. The only thing we did _not_ talk -about was my basic beliefs in regard to the Company. For I was too -troubled in my mind to talk about them, and Rena sensitive enough not -to bring them up. - -For I had, with all honor, sworn an oath of allegiance to the Company; -and I had not kept it. - -I could not, even then, see any possibility of a world where the -Company did not exist. For what the Company said of itself was true: -Before the Company existed, men lived like beasts. There was always the -instant danger of war and disease. No plan could be made, no hope could -be held, that could not be wiped out by blind accident. - -And yet, were men better off today? I could not doubt the truths I -had been told. The Company permitted wars--I had seen it. The Company -permitted disease--my own wife had died. - -Somewhere there was an answer, but I couldn't find it. It was not, I -was sure, in Slovetski's burning hatred of everything the Company stood -for. But it could not be, either, in the unquestioning belief that I -had once given. - -But my views, it turned out, hardly mattered any more; the die was -cast. Benedetto appeared in the entrance to the dining hall, peering -about. He saw us and came over, his face grave. - -"I am sorry, Mr. Wills," he said. "I have been listening to Radio -Napoli. It has just come over the air: A description of you, and an -order for your arrest. The charge is--murder!" - - * * * * * - -I gaped at him, hardly believing. "Murder! But that's not true; I -certainly never--" - -Benedetto laid a hand on my shoulder. "Of course not, Mr. Wills. It is -a fiction of the Company's, beyond doubt. But it is a fiction that may -cause your death if you are discovered, do not doubt that." - -I swallowed. "Who--whom did I murder?" - -Benedetto shrugged. "I do not know who he is. The name they gave was -Elio Barletteria." - -That was the suspendee whose place Zorchi had usurped. I sat back, -bewildered. It was true, at least, that I had had some connection with -the man. But--kill him? Was it possible, I asked myself, that the -mere act of taking him out of his plastic sack endangered his life? I -doubted it, but still-- - -I asked Benedetto. He frowned. "It is--possible," he admitted at last. -"We do not know much about the suspendees, Mr. Wills. The Company has -seen to that. It is my opinion--only an opinion, I am afraid--that -if this man Barletteria is dead, it had nothing to do with anything -you did. Still--" he shrugged--"what difference does it make? If the -Company calls you a murderer, you must be one, for the Company is -always right. Is that not so?" - -We left it at that, but I was far from easy in my mind. The dining -hall filled, and we ate our evening meal, but I hardly noticed what -I ate and I took no part in the conversation. Rena and her father -considerately left me alone; Zorchi was, it seemed, sulking in our -room, for he did not appear. But I was not concerned with him, for I -had troubles of my own. I should have been.... - -After dinner was over, I excused myself and went to the tiny cubicle -that had been assigned to Zorchi and myself. He wasn't there. Then I -began to think: Would Zorchi miss a meal? - -The answer was unquestionably no. With his metabolism, he needed many -times the food of an ordinary person; his performance at table, in -fact, was spectacular. - -Something was wrong. I was shaken out of my self-absorption; I hurried -to find Benedetto dell'Angela, and told him that Zorchi was gone. - -It didn't take long for us to find the answer. The underground hideout -was not large; it had only so many exits. It was only a matter of -moments before one of the men Benedetto had ordered to search returned -with an alarmed expression. - -The exit that led through the subway station was ajar. Somehow Zorchi -had hitched himself, on his stumps, down the long corridor and out the -exit. It had to be while we were eating; he could never have made it -except when everyone was in one room. - -How he had done it did not matter. The fact remained that Zorchi was -gone and, with him, the secrecy of our hiding place. - - -X - -We had to move. There was no way out of it. - -"Zorchi hates the Company," I protested. "I don't think he'll go to -them and--" - -"No, Wills." Slovetski patiently shook his head. "We can't take a -chance. If we had been able to recapture him, then we could stay -here. But he got clean away." There was admiration in his eyes. "What -a conspirator he would have made! Such strength and determination! -Think of it, Wills, a legless man in the city of Rome. He cannot avoid -attracting attention. He can barely move by himself. And yet, our men -track him into the subway station, to a telephone ... and that is -all. Someone picks him up. Who? A friend, one supposes--certainly not -the Company, or they would have been here before this. But to act so -quickly, Wills!" - -Benedetto dell'Angela coughed. "Perhaps more to the point, Slovetski, -is how quickly we ourselves shall now act." - -Slovetski grinned. "All is ready," he promised. "See, evacuation -already has begun!" - -Groups of men were quickly placing file folders into cartons and -carrying them off. They were not going far, I found later, only to a -deserted section of the ancient Roman Catacombs, from which they could -be retrieved and transported, little by little, at a later date. - -By sundown, Rena and I were standing outside the little church which -contained the entrance to the Catacombs. The two of us went together; -only two. It would look quite normal, it was agreed, for a young man -and a girl to travel together, particularly after my complexion had -been suitably stained and my Company clothes discarded and replaced -with a set of Rome's best ready-to-wears. - -It did not occur to me at the time, but Rena must have known that -her own safety was made precarious by being with me. Rena alone had -nothing to fear, even if she had been caught and questioned by an -agent of the Company. They would suspect her, because of her father, -but suspicion would do her no harm. But Rena in the company of a wanted -"murderer"--and one traveling in disguise--was far less safe.... - -We found an ancient piston-driven cab and threaded through almost all -of Rome. We spun around the ancient stone hulk of the Colosseum, -passed the balcony where a sign stated the dictator, Mussolini, used to -harangue the crowds, and climbed a winding, expensive-looking street to -the Borghese Gardens. - -Rena consulted her watch. "We're early," she said. We had _gelati_ in -an open-air pavilion, listening to the wheezing of a sweating band; -then, in the twilight, we wandered hand in hand under trees for half an -hour. - -Then Rena said, "Now it is time." We walked to the far end of the -Gardens where a small copter-field served the Class-A residential area -of Rome. A dozen copters were lined up at the end of the take-off -hardstand. Rena led me to the nearest of them. - -I looked at it casually, and stopped dead. - -"Rena!" I whispered violently. "Watch out!" The copter was black and -purple; it bore on its flank the marking of the Swiss Guard, the Roman -police force. - - * * * * * - -She pressed my hand. "Poor Tom," she said. She walked boldly up to one -of the officers lounging beside the copter and spoke briefly to him, -too low for me to hear. - -It was only when the big vanes overhead had sucked us a hundred yards -into the air, and we were leveling off and heading south, that she -said: "These are friends too, you see. Does it surprise you?" - -I swallowed, staring at the hissing jets at the ends of the swirling -vanes. "Well," I said, "I'm not exactly _surprised_, but I thought that -your friends were, well, more likely to be--" - -"To be rabble?" I started to protest, but she was not angry. She was -looking at me with gentle amusement. "Still you believe, Tom. Deep -inside you: An enemy of the Company must be, at the best, a silly -zealot like my father and me--and at the worst, rabble." She laughed -as I started to answer her. "No, Tom, if you are right, you should not -deny it; and if you are wrong--you will see." - -I sat back and stared, disgruntled, at the purple sunset over the -Mediterranean. I never saw such a girl for taking the wind out of your -sails. - - * * * * * - -Once across the border, the Guards had no status, and it was necessary -for them to swing inland, threading through mountains and passes, -remaining as inconspicuous as possible. - -It was little more than an hour's flight until I found landmarks I -could recognize. To our right was the bright bowl of Naples; far to our -left, the eerie glow that, marked bombed-out New Caserta. And ahead, -barely visible, the faint glowing plume that hung over Mount Vesuvius. - -Neither Rena nor the Guards spoke, but I could feel in their tense -attitudes that this was the danger-point. We were in the lair of the -enemy. Undoubtedly we were being followed in a hundred radars, and the -frequency-pattern would reveal our copter for what it was--a Roman -police plane that had no business in that area. Even if the Company let -us pass, there was always the chance that some Neapolitan radarman, -more efficient, or more anxious for a promotion, than his peers would -alert an interceptor and order us down. Certainly, in the old days, -interception would have been inevitable; for Naples had just completed -a war, and only short weeks back an unidentified aircraft would have -been blasted out of the sky. - -But we were ignored. - -And that, I thought to myself, was another facet to the paradox. For -when, in all the world's years before these days of the Company, was -there such complacency, such deep-rooted security, that a nation just -out of a war should have soothed its combat-jangled nerves overnight? -Perhaps the Company had not ended wars. But the _fear_ of wars was -utterly gone. - -We fluttered once around the volcano, and dipped in to a landing on a -gentle hump of earth halfway up its slope, facing Naples and the Bay. -We were a few hundred yards from a cluster of buildings--perhaps a -dozen, in all. - -I jumped out, stumbling and recovering myself. Rena stepped lightly -into my arms. And without a word, the Guards fed fuel to the jets, the -rotor whirled, and the copter lifted away from us and was gone. - -Rena peered about us, getting her bearings. There was a sliver of -a moon in the eastern sky, enough light to make it possible to get -about. She pointed to a dark hulk of a building far up the slope. "The -Observatory. Come, Tom." - - * * * * * - -The volcanic soil was rich, but not very useful to farmers. It was not -only the question of an eruption of the cone, for that sort of hazard -was no different in kind than the risk of hailstorm or drought. But the -mountain sides did not till easily, its volcanic slopes being perhaps -steeper than those of most mountains. - -The ground under our feet had never been in cultivation. It was pitted -and rough, and grown up in a tangle of unfamiliar weeds. And it was -also, I discovered with considerable shock, warm to the touch. - -I saw a plume of vapor, faintly silver in the weak light, hovering over -a hummock. Mist, I thought. Then it occurred to me that there was too -much wind for mist. It was steam! I touched the soil. Blood heat, at -least. - -I said, with some difficulty, "Rena, look!" - -She laughed. "Oh, it is an eruption, Tom. Of course it is. But not a -new one. It is lava, you see, from the little blast the Sicilians -touched off. Do not worry about it...." - -We clambered over the slippery cogs of a funicular railway and circled -the ancient stone base of the building she had pointed to. There was no -light visible; but Rena found a small door, rapped on it and presently -it opened. - -Out of the darkness came Slovetski's voice: "Welcome." - -Once this building had been the Royal Vulcanological Observatory of the -Kingdom of Italy. Now it was a museum on the surface, and underneath -another of the hideouts of Rena's "friends." - -But this was a hideout somewhat more important than the one in the -Roman Catacombs, I found. Slovetski made no bones about it. - -He said, "Wills, you shouldn't be here. We don't know you. We can't -trust you." He held up a hand. "I know that you rescued dell'Angela. -But that could all be an involved scheme of the Company. You could be -a Company spy. You wouldn't be the first, Wills. And this particular -installation is, shall I say, important. You may even find why, though -I hope not. If we hadn't had to move so rapidly, you would never have -been brought here. Now you're here, though, and we'll make the best of -it." He looked at me carefully, then, and the glinting spark in the -back of his eyes flared wickedly for a moment. "Don't try to leave. And -don't go anywhere in this building where Rena or dell'Angela or I don't -take you." - -And that was that. I found myself assigned to the usual sort -of sleeping accommodations I had come to expect in this group. -Underground--cramped--and a bed harder than the Class-C Blue Heaven -minimum. - - * * * * * - -The next morning, Rena breakfasted with me, just the two of us in a -tower room looking down over the round slope of Vesuvius and the Bay -beneath. She said: "The museum has been closed since the bomb landed -near, so you can roam around the exhibits if you wish. There are a -couple of caretakers, but they're with us. The rest of us will be in -conference. I'll try to see you for lunch." - -And she conducted me to an upper level of the Observatory and left me -by myself. I had my orders--stay in the public area of the museum. I -didn't like them. I wasn't used to being treated like a small boy, left -by his mother in a Company day nursery while she busied herself with -the important and incomprehensible affairs of adults. - -Still, the museum was interesting enough, in a way. It had been -taken over by the Company, it appeared, and although the legend -frescoed around the main gallery indicated that it was supposed to -be a historical museum of the Principality of Naples, it appeared by -examination of the exhibits that the "history" involved was that of -Naples vis-a-vis the Company. - -Not, of course, that such an approach was entirely unfair. If it had -not been for the intervention of the Company, after the Short War, it -is more than possible that Naples as an independent state would never -have existed. - -It was the Company's insistence on the dismantling of power centers (as -Millen Carmody himself had described it) that had created Naples and -Sicily and Prague and Quebec and Baja California and all the others. - -Only the United States had been left alone--and that, I think, only -because nobody dared to operate on a wounded tiger. In the temper -of the nation after the Short War, the Company would have survived -less than a minute if it had proposed severing any of the fifty-one -states.... - -The museum was interesting enough, for anyone with a taste for horrors. -It showed the changes in Neapolitan life over the past century or so. -There was a reconstruction of a typical Neapolitan home of the early -Nineteen-forties: a squalid hovel, packed ten persons to the room, -with an American G.I., precursor of the Company expediters, spraying -DDT into the bedding. There was, by comparison, a typical Class-B Blue -Heaven modern allotment--with a certain amount of poetic license; few -Class-B homes really had polyscent showers and auto-cooks. - - * * * * * - -It was the section on warfare, however, that was most impressive. It -was in the far back of the building, in a large chamber anchored to -bedrock. It held a frightening display of weapons, from a Tiger Tank -to a gas-gun. Bulking over everything else in the room, even the tank, -was the thirty-foot height of a Hell-bomb in a four-story display. I -looked at it a second time, vaguely disturbed by something I hadn't -quite placed--an indigo gleam to the metal of the warhead, with a hint -of evil under its lacquered sheen.... - -It was cobalt. I bent to read the legend: _This is the casing of the -actual cobalt bomb that would have been used on Washington if the Short -War had lasted one more day. It is calculated that, loaded with a Mark -XII hydrogen-lithium bomb, sufficient radioactive Cobalt-60 would have -been transmuted to end all life on Earth within thirty days._ - -I looked at it again, shuddering. - -Oh, it was safe enough now. Until the hydrogen reaction could turn the -ordinary cobalt sheathing into the deadly isotope-60, it was just such -stuff as was used to alloy magnets and make cobalt glass. It was even -more valuable as a museum piece than as the highly purified metal. - -Score one for the Company. They'd put a stop to that danger. Nobody -would have a chance to arm it and send it off now. No small war would -find it more useful than the bomb it would need--and no principality -would risk the Company's wrath in using it. And while the conspiracy -might have planes and helicopters, the fissionable material was too -rigidly under Company control for them to have a chance. The Super -Hell-bomb would never go off. And that was something that might mean -more to the Company's credit than anything else. - -Maybe it was possible that in this controversy _both_ sides were right. -And, of course, there was the obvious corollary. - -I continued my wandering, looking at the exhibits, the rubble of the -museum's previous history. The cast of the Pompeiian gladiator, caught -by the cinder-fall in full flight, his straining body reproduced to -every contorted line by the incandescent ashes that had encased him. -The carefully chipped and labeled samples from the lava flows of the -past two centuries. The awe-inspiring photographs of Vesuvius in -eruption. - -But something about the bomb casing kept bothering me. I wandered -around a bit longer and then turned back to the main exhibit. The big -casing stretched upward and downward, with narrow stairs leading down -to the lower level at its base. It was on the staircase I'd noticed -something before. Now I hesitated, trying to spot whatever it was. -There was a hint of something down there. Finally, I shrugged and went -down to inspect it more closely. - - * * * * * - -Lying at the base was a heavy radiation glove. A used, workman's glove, -dirty with grease. And as my eyes darted up, I could see that the bolts -on the lower servicing hatches were half-unscrewed. - -Radiation gloves and tampering with the casing! - -There were two doors to the pit for the bomb casing, but either one was -better than risking the stairs again where someone might see me. Or so -I figured. If they found I'd learned anything.... - -I grabbed for the nearer door, threw it open. I knew it was a mistake -when the voice reached my ears. - -"--after hitting the Home office with a Thousand-kiloton bomb. -It's going to take fast work. Now the schedule I've figured out so -far--God's damnation! How did you get in here, Wills?" - -It was Slovetski, leaning across a table, staring at me. Around the -table were Benedetto and four or five others I did not recognize. All -of them looked at me as though I were the Antichrist, popped out of the -marble at St. Peter's Basilica on Easter Sunday. - -The spark was a raging flame in Slovetski's eyes. Benedetto dell'Angela -said sharply, "Wait!" He strode over to me, half shielding me from -Slovetski. "Explain this, Thomas," he demanded. - -"I thought this was the hall door," I stammered, spilling the first -words I could while I tried to find any excuse.... - -"Wills! I tell you, answer me!" - -I said, "Look, did you expect me to carry a bell and cry unclean? I -didn't mean to break in. I'll go at once...." - -In a voice that shook, Slovetski said: "Wait one moment." He pressed a -bell-button on the wall; we all stood there silent, the five of them -staring at me, me wishing I was dead. - -There was a patter of feet outside, and Rena peered in. She saw me and -her hand went to her heart. - -"Tom! But--" - -Slovetski said commandingly, "Why did you permit him his liberty?" - -Rena looked at him wide-eyed. "But, please, I asked you. You suggested -letting him study the exhibits." - -Benedetto nodded. "True, Slovetski," he said gravely. "You ordered her -to attend until our--conference was over." - -The flame surged wildly in Slovetski's eyes--not at me. But he got it -under control. He said, "Take him away." He did not do me the courtesy -of looking my way again. Rena took me by the hand and led me off, -closing the door behind us. - -As soon as we were outside, I heard a sharp babble of argument, but -I could make out no words through the door. I didn't need to; I knew -exactly what they were saying. - -This was the proposition: _Resolved, that the easiest thing to do is -put Wills out of the way permanently_. And with Slovetski's fiery eyes -urging the positive, what eager debater would say him nay? - - * * * * * - -Rena said: "I can't tell you, Tom. _Please_ don't ask me!" - -I said, "This is no kid's game, Rena! They're talking about bombing the -Home Office!" - -She shook her head. "Tom, Tom. You must have misunderstood." - -"I heard them!" - -"Tom, _please_ don't ask me any more questions." - -I slammed my hand down on the table and swore. It didn't do any good. -She didn't even look up from the remains of her dinner. - -It had been like that all afternoon. The Great Ones brooded in secret. -Rena and I waited in her room, until the museum's public visiting hours -were over and we could go up into the freer atmosphere of the reception -lounge. And then we waited there. - -I said mulishly: "Ever since I met you, Rena, I've been doing nothing -but wait. I'm not built that way!" - -No answer. - -I said, with all of my patience: "Rena, I heard them talking about -bombing the Home Office. Do you think I am going to forget that?" - -Leadenly: "No, Tom." - -"So what does it matter if you tell me more? If I cannot be trusted, I -already know too much. If I can be trusted, what does it matter if I -know the rest?" - -Again tears. "_Please_ don't ask me!" - -I yelled: "At least you can tell me what we're waiting for!" - -She dabbed at her eyes. "Please, Tom, I don't know much more than you -do. Slovetski, he is like this sometimes. He gets, I suppose you would -say, thoughtful. He concentrates so very much on one thing, you see, -that he forgets everything around him. It is possible that he has -forgotten that we are waiting. I don't know." - -I snarled, "I'm tired of this. Go in and remind him!" - -"No, Tom!" There was fright in her voice; and I found that she had told -me one of the things I wanted to know. If it was not wise to remind -Slovetski that I was waiting his pleasure, the probability was that it -would not be pleasant for me when he remembered. - -I said, "But you must know something, Rena. Don't you see that it could -do no harm to tell me?" - -She said miserably, "Tom, I know very little. I did not--did not know -as much as you found out." I stared at her. She nodded. "I had perhaps -a suspicion, it is true. Yes, I suspected. But I did not _really_ -think, Tom, that there was a question of bombing. It is not how we were -taught. It is not what Slovetski promised, when we began." - -"You mean you didn't know Slovetski was planning violence?" - -She shook her head. "And even now, I think, perhaps you heard wrong, -perhaps there was a mistake." - -I stood up and leaned over her. "Rena, listen to me. There was no -mistake. They're working on that casing. Tell me what you know!" - -She shook her head, weeping freely. - -I raged: "This is asinine! What can there be that you will not tell? -The Company supply base that Slovetski hopes to raid to get a bomb? -The officers he plans to bribe, to divert some other nation's quota of -plutonium?" - -She took a deep breath. "Not that, Tom." - -"Then what? You don't mean to say that he has a complete underground -separator plant--that he is making his own plutonium!" - -She was silent for a long time, looking at me. Then she sighed. "I will -tell you, Tom. No, he does not have a plant. He doesn't need one, you -see. He already has a bomb." - - * * * * * - -I straightened. "That's impossible." - -She was shaking her head. I protested, "But the--the _quotas_, Rena. -The Company tracks every milligram of fissionable material from the -moment it leaves the reactor! The inspections! Expediters with Geiger -counters cover every city in the world!" - -"Not here, Tom. You remember that the Sicilians bombed Vesuvius? There -is a high level of radioactivity all up and down the mountain. Not -enough to be dangerous, but enough to mask a buried bomb." She closed -her eyes. "And--well, you are right, Tom. I might as well tell you. -In that same war, you see, there was a bomb that did not explode. You -recall?" - -"Yes, but--" - -"But it couldn't explode, Tom. It was a dummy. Slovetski is a brilliant -man. Before that bomb left the ground, he had diverted it. What went -up was a hollow shell. What is left--the heart of the bomb--is buried -forty feet beneath us." - -I stared at her, the room reeling. I was clutching at straws. I -whispered, "But that was only a fission bomb, Rena. Slovetski--I heard -him--he said a Thousand-kiloton bomb. That means hydrogen, don't you -see? Surely he hasn't tucked one of those away." - -Rena's face was an agony of regret. "I do not understand all these -things, so you must bear with me. I know this; there has been secret -talk about the Milanese generators, and I know that the talk has to -do with heavy water. And I am not stupid altogether, I know that from -heavy water one can get what is used in a hydrogen bomb. And there is -more, of course--lithium, perhaps? But he has that. You have seen it, I -think. It is on a pedestal in this building." - -I sat down hard. It was impossible. But it all fell into place. -Given the fissionable core of the bomb--plus the deuterium, plus the -lithium-bearing shell--it was no great feat to put the parts together -and make a Hell-bomb. - -The mind rejected it; it was too fantastic. It was frightful and -terrifying, and worst of all was that something lurking at the -threshold of memory, something about that bomb on display in the -museum.... - -And, of course, I remembered. - -"Rena!" I said, struggling for breath. I nearly could not go on, it was -too dreadful to say. "Rena! Have you ever looked at that bomb? Have you -read the placard on it? _That bomb is cobalt!_" - - -XI - -From the moment I had heard those piercing words from Slovetski's -mouth, I had been obsessed with a vision. A Hell-bomb on the Home -Office. America's eastern seaboard split open. New York a hole in the -ocean, from Kingston to Sandy Hook; orange flames spreading across -Connecticut and the Pennsylvania corner. - -That was gone--and in its place was something worse. - -Radiocobalt bombing wouldn't simply kill locally by a gout of flaring -radiation. It would leave the atmosphere filled with colloidal -particles of deadly, radioactive Cobalt-60. A little of that could be -used to cure cancers and perform miracles. The amount released from -the sheathing of cobalt--normal, "safe" cobalt--around a fissioning -hydrogen bomb could kill a world. A single bomb of that kind could wipe -out all life on Earth, as I remembered my schooling. - -I'm no physicist; I didn't know what the quantities involved might -mean, once the equations came off the drafting paper and settled like -a ravening storm on the human race. But I had a glimpse of radioactive -dust in every breeze, in every corner of every land. Perhaps a handful -of persons in Cambodia or Vladivostok or Melbourne might live through -it. But there was no question in my mind: If that bomb went off, it was -the end of our civilization. - -I saw it clearly. - -And so, having betrayed the Company to Slovetski's gang, I came full -circle. - -Even Judas betrayed only One. - - * * * * * - -Getting away from the Observatory was simple enough, with Rena shocked -and confused enough to look the other way. Finding a telephone near -Mount Vesuvius was much harder. - -I was two miles from the mountain before I found what I was looking -for--a Blue Wing fully-automatic filling station. The electronic -scanners clucked worriedly, as they searched for the car I should have -been driving, and the policy-punching slot glowed red and receptive, -waiting for my order. I ignored them. - -What I wanted was inside the little unlocked building--A -hushaphone-booth with vision attachment. The important thing was to -talk direct to Defoe and only to Defoe. In the vision screen, impedance -mismatch would make the picture waver if there was anyone uninvited -listening in. - -But I left the screen off while I put through my call. The office -servo-operator (it was well after business hours) answered blandly, and -I said: "Connect me with Defoe, crash priority." - -It was set to handle priority matters on a priority basis; there was -neither fuss nor argument, though a persistent buzzing in the innards -of the phone showed that, even while the robot was locating Defoe for -me, it was double-checking the connection to find out why there was no -vision on the screen. - -It said briskly, "Stand by, sir," and I was connected with Defoe's -line--on a remote hookup with the hotel where he was staying, I -guessed. I flicked the screen open. - -But it wasn't Defoe on the other end of the line. It was Susan -Manchester, with that uncharacteristic, oddly efficient look she had -shown at the vaults. - -She said crisply, and not at all surprised: "Tom Wills." - -"That's right," I said, thinking quickly. Well, it didn't much matter. -I should have realized that Defoe's secretary, howsoever temporary, -would be taking his calls. I said rapidly: "Susan, I can't talk to you. -It has to be Defoe. Take my word for it, it's important. Please put him -on." - -She gave me no more of an argument than the robot had. - -In a second, Defoe was on the screen, and I put Susan out of my mind. -She must have said something to him, because the big, handsome face was -unsurprised, though the eyes were contracted. "Wills!" he snapped. "You -fool! Where are you?" - -I said, "Mr. Defoe, I have to talk to you. It's a very urgent matter." - -"Come in and do it, Wills! Not over the telephone." - -I shook my head. "No, sir. I can't. It's too, well, risky." - -"Risky for you, you mean!" The words were icily disgusted. "Wills, you -have betrayed me. No man ever got away with that. You're imposing on -me, playing on my family loyalty to your dead wife, and I want to tell -you that you won't get away with it. There's a murder charge against -you, Wills! Come in and talk to me--or else the police will pick you up -before noon." - - * * * * * - -I said with an effort, "I don't mean to impose on any loyalty, but, in -common decency, you ought to hear--" - -"Decency!" His face was cold. "You talk about decency! You and that -dell'Angela traitor you joined. Decency! Wills, you're a disgrace to -the memory of a decent and honest woman like Marianna. I can only say -that I am glad--glad, do you hear me?--that she's dead and rid of you." - -I said, "Wait a minute, Defoe! Leave Marianna out of this. I only--" - -"Don't interrupt me! God, to think a man I trusted should turn out to -be Judas himself! You animal, the Company has protected you from the -day you were born, and you try to destroy it. Why, you pitiful idiot, -you aren't fit to associate with the dogs in the kennel of a decent -human being!" - -There was more. Much, much more. It was a flow of abuse that paralyzed -me, less because of what he said than because of who was saying it. -Suave, competent Defoe, ranting at me like a wounded Gogarty! I -couldn't have been more astonished if the portrait of Millen Carmody -had whispered a bawdy joke from the frontispiece of the Handbook. - -I stood there, too amazed to be furious, listening to the tirade from -the midget image in the viewplate. It must have lasted for three or -four minutes; then, almost in mid-breath, Defoe glanced at something -outside my range of vision, and stopped his stream of abuse. I started -to cut in while I could, but he held up one hand quickly. - -He smiled gently. Very calmly, as though he had not been damning me a -moment before, he said: "I shall be very interested to hear what you -have to say." - -That floored me. It took me a second to shake the cobwebs out of my -brain before I said waspishly, "If you hadn't gone through all that -jabber, you would have heard it long ago." - -The midget in the scanner shrugged urbanely. "True," he conceded. "But -then, Thomas, I wouldn't have had you." - -And he reached forward and clicked off the phone. Tricked! Tricked and -trapped! I cursed myself for stupidity. While he kept me on the line, -the call was being traced--there was no other explanation. And I had -fallen for it! - -I slapped the door of the booth open and leaped out. - -I got perhaps ten feet from the booth. - -Then a rope dropped over my shoulders. Its noose yanked tight around my -arms, and I was being dragged up, kicking futilely. I caught a glimpse -of the broad Latin faces gaping at me from below, then two men on a -rope ladder had me. - -I was dragged in through the bottom hatch of a big helicopter with no -markings. The hatch closed. Facing me was a lieutenant of expediters. - -The two men tumbled in after me and reeled in the rope ladder, as the -copter dipped and swerved away. I let myself go limp as the rope was -loosened around me; when my hands were free I made my bid. - -I leaped for the lieutenant; my fist caught him glancingly on the -throat, sending him reeling and choking backward. I grabbed for the -hard-pellet gun at his hip--he was pawing at it--and we tumbled across -the floor. - -It was, for one brief moment, a chance. I was no copter pilot, but the -gun was all the pilot I'd need--if only I got it out. - -But the expediters behind me were no amateurs. I ducked as the knotted -end of the rope whipped savagely toward me. Then one of the other -expediters was on my back; the gun came out, and flew free. And that -was the end of that. - -I had, I knew, been a fool to try it. But I wasn't sorry. They had too -much rough-and-tumble training for me to handle. But that one blow had -felt good. - -It didn't seem as worth while a few moments later. I was fastened to a -seat, while the wheezing lieutenant gave orders in a strangled voice. -"Not too many marks on him," he was saying. "Try it over the kidneys -again...." - -I never even thought of maintaining a heroic silence. They had had -plenty of experience with the padded club, too, and I started to black -out twice before finally I went all the way down. - - * * * * * - -I came to with a light shining in my eyes. - -There was a doctor putting his equipment away. "He'll be all right, Mr. -Defoe," he said, and snapped his bag shut and left the circle of light. - -I felt terrible, but my head was clearing. - -I managed to focus my eyes. Defoe was there, and a couple of other -men. I recognized Gogarty, looking sick and dejected, and another -face I knew--it was out of my Home Office training--an officer whose -name I didn't recall, wearing the uniform of a lieutenant-general of -expediters. That meant at least an expediter corps in Naples! - -I said weakly, "Hi." - -Defoe stood over me. He said, "I'm very glad to see you, Thomas. -Coffee?" - -He steadied my hands as I gulped it. When I had managed a few swallows, -he took the cup away. - -"I did not think you would resist arrest, Thomas," he said in a -parental tone. - -I said, "Damn it, you didn't have to arrest me! I came down here of my -own free will!" - -"Down?" His eyebrows rose. "Down from where do you mean, Thomas?" - -"Down from Mount--" I hesitated, then finished. "All right. Down from -Mount Vesuvius. The museum, where I was hiding out with the ringleaders -of the anti-Company movement. Is that what you want to know?" - -Defoe crackled: "Manning!" The lieutenant-general saluted and left the -room. Defoe said, "That was the first thing I wanted, yes. But now I -want much more. Please begin talking, Thomas. I will listen." - -I talked. There was nothing to stop me. Even with my body a mass of -aches and pains from the tender care of the Company's expediters, I -still had to side with the Company in this. For the Cobalt-bomb ended -all loyalties. - -I left nothing important out, not even Rena. I admitted that I had -taken Benedetto from the clinic, how we had escaped to Rome, how we had -fled to Vesuvius ... and what I had learned. I made it short, skipping -a few unimportant things like Zorchi. - -And Defoe sat sipping his coffee, listening, his warm eyes twinkling. - -I stopped. He pursed his lips, considering. - -"Silly," he said at last. - -"Silly? What's silly!" - -He said, "Thomas, I don't care about your casual affairs. And I would -have excused your--precipitousness--since you have brought back certain -useful information. Quite useful. I don't deny it. But I don't like -being lied to, Thomas." - -"I haven't lied!" - -He said sharply, "There is no way to get fissionable material except -through the Company!" - -"Oh, hell!" I shook my head. "How about a dud bomb, Defoe?" - -For the first time he looked puzzled. "Dud bomb?" - -Gogarty looked sick. "There's--there's a report on your desk, Mr. -Defoe," he said worriedly. "We--well--figured the half-masses just got -close enough to boil instead of to explode. We--" - -"I see." Defoe looked at him for a long moment. Then, disregarding -Gogarty, he turned back to me, shoved the coffee at me. "All right, -Thomas. They've got the warhead. Hydrogen? Cobalt? What about fuel?" - -I told him what I knew. Gogarty, listening, licked his lips. I didn't -envy him. I could see the worry in him, the fear of Defoe's later -wrath. For in Defoe, as in Slovetski, there was that deadly fire. -It blazed only when it was allowed to; but what it touched withered -and died. I had not seen Defoe as tightly concentrated, as drivingly -intent, before. I was sorry for Gogarty when at last, having drained me -dry, Defoe left. But I was glad for me. - - * * * * * - -He was gone less than an hour--just time for me to eat a Class-C meal a -silent expediter brought. - -He thrust the door open and stared at me with whitely glaring eyes. -"If I thought you were lying, Thomas ..." His voice was cracking with -suppressed emotion. - -"What happened?" I demanded. - -"Don't you know?" He stood trembling, staring at me. "You told the -truth--or part of the truth. There _was_ a hideout on Vesuvius. But an -hour ago they got away--while you were wasting time. Was it a stall, -Thomas? Did you know they would run?" - -I said, "Defoe, don't you see, that's all to the good? If they had to -run, they couldn't possibly take the bomb with them. That means--" - -He was shaking head. "Oh, but you're wrong, Thomas. According to the -director of the albergo down the hill, three skyhook helicopters came -over--big ones. They peeled the roof off, as easy as you please, and -they lifted the bomb out and then flew away." - - * * * * * - -I said stupidly, "Where?" He nodded. There was no emotion in his voice, -only in his eyes. He might have been discussing the weather. "Where? -That is a good question. I hope we will find it out, Thomas. We're -checking the radar charts; they can't hide for long. But how did they -get away at all? Why did you give them the time?" - -He left me. Perversely, I was almost glad. It was part of the price -of switching allegiance, I was learning, that shreds and tatters of -loyalties cling to you and carry over. When I went against the Company -to rescue Benedetto, I still carried with me my Adjusters' Handbook. -And I confess that I never lost the habit of reading a page or two -in it, even in the Catacombs, when things looked bad. And when I saw -the murderous goal that Slovetski's men were marching toward, and I -returned to Defoe, I still could feel glad that Benedetto, at least, -had got away. - -But not far. - -It was only a few hours, but already broad daylight when Gogarty, -looking shaken, came into the room. He said testily, "Damn it, Wills, I -wish I'd never seen you! Come on! Defoe wants you with us." - -"Come on where?" I got up as he gestured furiously for haste. - -"Where do you think? Did you think your pals would be able to stay out -of sight forever? We've got them pinpointed, bomb and all." - -He was almost dragging me down the corridor, toward a courtyard. I -limped out into the bright morning and blinked. The court was swarming -with armed expediters, clambering into personnel-carrying copters -marked with the vivid truce-team insignia of the Company. Gogarty -hustled me into the nearest and the jets sizzled and we leaped into the -air. - -I shouted, over the screaming of the jets, "Where are we going?" - -Gogarty spat and pointed down the long purple coastline. "To their -hideout--Pompeii!" - - -XII - -No one discussed tactics with me, but it was clear that this operation -was carefully planned. Our copter was second in a long string of at -least a dozen that whirled down the coastline, past the foothills of -Vesuvius, over the clusters of fishing villages and vineyards. - -I had never seen Pompeii, but I caught a glimpse of something -glittering and needle-nosed, up-thrust in the middle of a cluster of -stone buildings that might have been the ruins. - -Then the first ten of the copters spun down to a landing, while two or -three more flew a covering mission overhead. - -The expediters, hard-pellet guns at the ready, leaped out and formed in -a skirmish line. Gogarty and a pair of expediters stayed close by me, -behind the line of attack; we followed the troops as they dog-trotted -through a field of some sort of grain, around fresh excavations, down -a defile into the shallow pit that held the ruins of first-century -Pompeii. - -I had no time for archeology, but I remember tripping over wide, -shallow gutters in the stone-paved streets, and cutting through a tiny -villa of some sort whose plaster walls still were decorated with faded -frescoes. - -Then we heard the spatter of gunfire and Gogarty, clutching at me, -skidded to a halt. "This is specialist work," he panted. "Best thing we -can do is stay out of it." - -I peered around a column and saw a wide open stretch. Beyond it was a -Roman arch and the ruined marble front of what once had been a temple -of some sort; in the open ground lay the three gigantic copters Defoe -had mentioned. - -The vanes of one of them were spinning slowly, and it lurched and -quivered as someone tried to get it off the ground under fire. But -the big thing was in the middle of the area: The bomb, enormous and -terrifying as its venomous nose thrust up into the sky. By its side was -a tank truck, the side of it painted with the undoubtedly untrue legend -that it contained crude olive oil. Hydrazine, more likely! - -Hoses connected it with the base of the guided-missile bomb; and a knot -of men were feverishly in action around it, some clawing desperately -at the fittings of the bomb, some returning the skirmish fire of the -expediters. - -We had the advantage of surprise, but not very much of that. From -the top of the ancient temple a rapid-fire pellet gun sprayed into -the flank of the skirmish line, which immediately broke up as the -expediters leaped for cover. - -One man fell screaming out of the big skyhook copter, but someone -remained inside, for it lurched and dipped and roared crazily across -the field in as ragged a take-off as I ever saw, until its pilot got -it under control. It bobbed over the skirmish line under fire, but -returning the fire as whatever few persons were inside it leaned out -and strafed the expediters. Then the skyhook itself came under attack -as the patrol copters swooped in. - -The big ship staggered toward the nearest of them. It must have been -intentional: We could see the faint flare of muzzle-blast as the two -copters fired on each other; they closed, and there was a brutal -rending noise as they collided. They were barely a hundred feet in the -air; they crashed in a breath, and flames spread out from the wreckage. - - * * * * * - -And Slovetski's resources still had not run out. There was a roar and a -screech of metal, and a one-man cobra tank slithered out of one of the -buildings and came rapidly across the field toward the expediters. - -Gogarty, beside me, was sobbing with fear; that little tank carried -self-loading rockets. It blasted a tiny shrine into rubble, spun and -came directly toward us. - -We ran. I didn't even see the second expediter aircraft come whirling -in and put the cobra tank out of action with its heavy weapons. I heard -the firing, but it was swallowed up in a louder screaming roar. - -Gogarty stared at me from the drainage trench we had flung ourselves -into. We both leaped up and ran back toward the open field. - -There was an explosion as we got there--the fake "olive-oil" truck, -now twenty yards from the bomb, had gone up in a violent blast. But we -hardly noticed. For at the base of the bomb itself red-purple fire was -billowing out. It screamed and howled and changed color to a blinding -blue as the ugly squat shape danced and jiggled. The roar screamed -up from a bull-bass to a shrieking coloratura and beyond as the bomb -lifted and gained speed and, in the blink of an eye, was gone. - -I hardly noticed that the sound of gunfire died raggedly away. We were -not the only ones staring unbelievingly at the sky where that deadly -shape had disappeared. Of the scores of men on both sides in that area, -not a single eye was anywhere else. - -The bomb had been fueled; we were too late. Its servitors, perhaps at -the cost of their own lives, had torched it off. It was on its way. - -The cobalt bomb--the single weapon that could poison the world and wipe -out the human race--was on its way. - - -XIII - -What can you do after the end? What becomes of any plot or plan, when -an indigo-gleaming missile sprays murder into the sky and puts a period -to planning? - -I do not think there ever was a battlefield as abruptly quiet as that -square in old Pompeii. Once the bomb had gone, there was not a sound. -The men who had been firing on each other were standing still, jaws -hanging, eyes on the sky. - -But it couldn't last. For one man was not surprised; one man knew what -was happening and was ready for it. - -A crouching figure at the top of the ruined temple gesticulated and -shouted through a power-megaphone: "Give it up, Defoe! You've lost, -you've lost!" It was Slovetski, and beside him a machine-gun crew -sighted in on the nearest knot of expediters. - -Pause, while the Universe waited. And then his answer came; it was a -shot that screamed off a cracked capital, missing him by millimeters. -He dropped from sight, and the battle was raging. - -Human beings are odd. Now that the cause of the fight was meaningless, -it doubled in violence. There were fewer than a hundred of Slovetski's -men involved, and not much more than that many expediters. But for -concentrated violence I think they must have overmatched anything in -the Short War's ending. - -I was a non-combatant; but the zinging of the hard-pellet fire swarmed -all around me. Gogarty, in his storm sewer, was safe enough, but I was -more exposed. While the rapid-fire weapons pattered all around me, I -jumped up and zigzagged for the shelter of a low-roofed building. - -The walls were little enough protection, but at least I had the -illusion of safety. Most of all, I was out of sight. - -I wormed my way through a gap in the wall to an inner chamber. It -was as tiny a room as ever I have been in; less than six feet in its -greatest dimension--length--and with most of its floor area taken up by -what seemed to be a rude built-in bed. Claustrophobia hit me there; the -wall on the other side was broken too, and I wriggled through. - -The next room was larger; and it was occupied. - -A man lay, panting heavily, in a corner. He pushed himself up on -an elbow to look at me. In a ragged voice he said: "Thomas!" And he -slumped back, exhausted by the effort, blood dripping from his shirt. - -I leaped over to the side of Benedetto dell'Angela. The noise of the -battle outside rose to a high pitch and dwindled raggedly away. - - * * * * * - -I suppose it was inertia that kept me going--certainly I could see with -my mind's vision no reason to keep struggling. The world was at an -end. There was no reason to try again to escape from the rubber hoses -of the expediters--and, after I had seen the resistance end, and an -expediter-officer appeared atop the temple where Slovetski had shouted -his defiance, no possibility of rejoining the rebels. - -Without Slovetski, they were lost. - -But I kept on. - -Benedetto helped. He knew every snake-hole entrance and exit of all -the hideouts of Slovetski's group. They had not survived against the -strength of the Company without acquiring skill in escape routes; and -here, too, they had a way out. It required a risky dash across open -ground but, even with Benedetto on my back, I made it. - -And then we were in old Pompeii's drainage sewer, the arched stone -tunnel that once had carried sewage from the Roman town to the sea. It -was a hiding place, and then a tunnel to freedom, for the two of us. - -We waited there all of that day, Benedetto mumbling almost inaudibly -beside me. In lucid moments, he told me the name of the hotel where -Rena had gone when the Observatory was abandoned, but there seemed few -lucid moments. Toward evening, he began to recover. - -We found our way to the seashore just as darkness fell. There was a -lateen-rigged fishing vessel of some sort left untended. I do not -suppose the owner was far away, but he did not return in time to stop -us. - -Benedetto was very weak. He was muttering to himself, words that I -could hardly understand. "Wasted, wasted, wasted," was the burden of -his complaint. I did not know what he thought was wasted--except, -perhaps, the world. - -We slipped in to one of the deserted wharves under cover of darkness, -and I left Benedetto to find a phone. It was risky, but what risk -mattered when the world was at an end? - -Rena was waiting at the hotel. She answered at once. I did not think -the call had been intercepted--or that it would mean anything to anyone -if it had. I went back to the boat to wait with Benedetto for Rena to -arrive, in a rented car. We didn't dare chance a cab. - -Benedetto was sitting up, propped rigidly against the mast, staring -off across the water. Perhaps I startled him as I came to the boat; he -turned awkwardly and cried out weakly. - -Then he saw that it was I. He said something I could not understand and -pointed out toward the west, where the Sun had gone down long before. - -But there was still light there--though certainly not sunset. - -Far off over the horizon was a faint glow! I couldn't understand at -first, since I was sure the bomb had been zeroed-in on the Home Offices -in New York; but something must have happened. From that glow, still -showing in the darkness so many hours after the explosion as the dust -particles gleamed bluely, it must have gone off over the Atlantic. - -There was no doubt in my mind any longer. The most deadly weapon the -world had ever known had gone off! - - -XIV - -The hotel was not safe, of course, but what place was when the world -was at an end? Rena and I, between us, got her father, Benedetto, -upstairs into her room without attracting too much attention. We put -him on the bed and peeled back his jacket. - -The bullet had gone into his shoulder, a few inches above the heart. -The bone was splintered, but the bleeding was not too much. Rena did -what she could and, for the first time in what seemed like years, we -had a moment's breathing space. - -I said, "I'll phone for a doctor." - -Benedetto said faintly, "No, Thomas! The Company!" - -I protested, "What's the difference? We're all dead, now. You've -seen--" I hesitated and changed it. "Slovetski has seen to that. There -was _cobalt_ in that bomb." - -He peered curiously at me. "Slovetski? Did you suppose it was Slovetski -who planned it so?" He shook his head--and winced at the pain. He -whispered, "Thomas, you do not understand. It was my project, not -Slovetski's. That one, he proposed to destroy the Company's Home -Office; it was his thought that killing them would bring an end to -evil. I persuaded him there was no need to kill--only to gamble." - -I stared at him. "You're delirious!" - -"Oh, no." He shook his head and succeeded in a tiny smile. "Do you not -see it, Thomas? The great explosion goes off, the world is showered -with particles of death. And then--what then?" - -"We die!" - -"Die? No! Have you forgotten the vaults of the clinics?" - -It staggered me. I'd been reciting all the pat phrases from early -schooling about the bomb! If it had gone off in the Short War, of -course, it would have ended the human race! But I'd been a fool. - -The vaults had been built to handle the extreme emergencies that -couldn't be foreseen--even one that knocked out nearly the whole race. -They hadn't expected that a cobalt-cased bomb would ever be used. Only -the conspirators would have tried, and how could they get fissionables? -But they were ready for even that. I'd been expecting universal doom. - -"The clinics," Benedetto repeated as I stared at him. - - * * * * * - -It was the answer. Even radio-poisons of cobalt do not live forever. -Five years, and nearly half of them would be gone; eleven years, and -more than three-quarters would be dissipated. In fifty years, the -residual activity would be down to a fraction of one per cent--and the -human race could come back to the surface. - -"But why?" I demanded. "Suppose the Company can handle the population -of the whole world? Granted, they've space enough and one year is the -same as fifty when you're on ice. But what's the use?" - -He smiled faintly. "Bankruptcy, Thomas," he whispered. "So you see, we -do not wish to fall into the Company's hands right now. For there is a -chance that we will live ... and perhaps the very faintest of chances -that we will win!" - - * * * * * - -It wasn't even a faint chance--I kept telling myself that. - -But, if anything could hurt the Company, the area in which it was -vulnerable was money. Benedetto had been intelligent in that. Bombing -the Home Office would have been an inconvenience, no more. But to -disrupt the world's work with a fifty-year hiatus, while the air purged -itself of the radioactive cobalt from the bomb, would mean fifty years -while the Company lay dormant; fifty years while the policies ran their -course and became due. - -For that was the wonder of Benedetto's scheme: _The Company insured -against everything_. If a man were to be exposed to radiation and -needed to be put away, he automatically went on "disability" benefits, -while his policy paid its own premiums! - -Multiply this single man by nearly four billion. The sum came out to a -bankrupt Company. - -It seemed a thin thread with which to strangle a monster. And yet, -I thought of the picture of Millen Carmody in my Adjuster's Manual. -There was the embodiment of honor. Where a Defoe might cut through the -legalities and flout the letter of the agreements, Carmody would be -bound by his given word. The question, then, was whether Defoe would -dare to act against Carmody. - -Everything else made sense. Even exploding the bomb high over the -Atlantic: It would be days before the first fall-out came wind-borne to -the land, and in those days there would be time for the beginnings of -the mass migration to the vaults. - -Wait and see, I told myself. Wait and see. It was flimsy, but it was -hope, and I had thought all hope was dead. - -We could not stay in the hotel, and there was only one place for us to -go. Slovetski captured, the Company after our scalps, the whole world -about to be plunged into confusion--we had to get out of sight. - - * * * * * - -It took time. Zorchi's hospital gave me a clue; I tracked it down and -located the secretary. - -The secretary spat at me over the phone and hung up, but the second -time I called him he grudgingly consented to give me another number to -call. The new number was Zorchi's lawyer. The lawyer was opaque and -uncommunicative, but proposed that I call him back in a quarter of an -hour. In a quarter of an hour, I was on the phone. He said guardedly: -"What was left in Bay 100?" - -"A hypodermic and a bottle of fluid," I said promptly. - -"That checks," he confirmed, and gave me a number. - -And on the other end of that number I reached Zorchi. - -"The junior assassin," he sneered. "And calling for help? How is that -possible, Weels? Did my _avocatto_ lie?" - -I said stiffly, "If you don't want to help me, say so." - -"Oh--" he shrugged. "I have not said that. What do you want?" - -"Food, a doctor, and a place for three of us to hide for a while." - -He pursed his lips. "To hide, is it?" He frowned. "That is very grave, -Weels. Why should I hide you from what is undoubtedly your just -punishment?" - -"Because," I said steadily, "I have a telephone number. Which can be -traced. Defoe doesn't know you've escaped, but that can be fixed!" - -He laughed angrily. "Oh-ho. The assassin turns to blackmail, is that -it?" - -I said furiously, "Damn you, Zorchi, you know I won't turn you in. I -only point out that I can--and that I will not. Now, will you help us -or not?" - -He said mildly, "Oh, of course. I only wished you to say 'please'--but -it is not a trick you Company men are good at. Signore, believe me, -I perish with loneliness for you and your two friends, whoever they -may be. Listen to me, now." He gave me an address and directions for -finding it. And he hung up. - -Zorchi's house was far outside the city, along the road to New Caserta. -It lay at the bend of the main highway, and I suppose I could have -passed it a hundred thousand times without looking inside, it was -so clearly the white-stuccoed, large but crumbling home of a mildly -prosperous peasant. It was large enough to have a central court partly -concealed from the road. - -The secretary, spectacles and all, met us at the door--and that was a -shock. "You must have roller skates," I told him. - -He shrugged. "My employer is too forgiving," he said, with ice on his -voice. "I had hoped to reach him before he made an error. As you see, I -was too late." - -We lifted Benedetto off the seat; he was just barely conscious by -now, and his face was ivory under the Mediterranean tan. I shook the -secretary off and held Benedetto carefully in my arms as Rena held the -door before me. - -The secretary said, "A moment. I presume the car is stolen. You must -dispose of it at once." - -I snarled over my shoulder, "It isn't stolen, but the people that own -it will be looking for it all right. _You_ get rid of it." - -He spluttered and squirmed, but I saw him climbing into the seat -as I went inside. Zorchi was there waiting, in a fancy motorized -wheelchair. He had legs! Apparently they were not fully developed as -yet, but in the short few days since I had rescued him _something_ had -grown that looked like nearly normal limbs. He had also grown, in that -short time, a heavy beard. - -The sneer, however, was the same. - -I made the error of saying, "Signore Zorchi, will you call a doctor for -this man?" - -The thick lips writhed under the beard. "_Signore_ it is now, is it? No -longer the freak Zorchi, the case Zorchi, the half-man? God works many -miracles, Weels. See the greatest of them all--it has transmuted the -dog into a _signore_!" - -I grated, "For God's sake, Zorchi, call a doctor!" - -He said coldly, "You mentioned this over the phone, did you not? If you -would merely walk on instead of bickering, you would find the doctor -already here." - - * * * * * - -Plasma and antibiotics: They flowed into Benedetto from half a dozen -plastic tubes like oil into the hold of a tanker. And I could see, in -the moments when I watched, the color come back into his face, and the -sunken eyes seem to come back to life. - -The doctor gave him a sedative that made him sleep, and explained to -us that Benedetto was an old man for such goings-on. But if he could be -kept still for three or four weeks, the doctor said, counting the lire -Zorchi's secretary paid him, there was no great danger. - -If he could be kept still for three or four weeks. In scarcely ten -days, the atmosphere of the planet would be death to breathe! Many -things might happen to Benedetto in that time, but remaining still was -not one of them. - -Zorchi retired to his own quarters, once the doctor was gone, and Rena -and I left Benedetto to sleep. - -We found a television set and turned it on, listening for word of -the cobalt-bomb. We got recorded _canzoni_ sung by a reedy tenor. We -dialed, and found the Neapolitan equivalent of a soap opera, complete -with the wise, fat old mother and the sobbing new daughter-in-law. It -was like that on all the stations, while Rena and I stared at each -other in disbelief. - -Finally, at the regular hourly newscast, we got a flicker: "An -unidentified explosion," the announcer was saying, "far out at sea, -caused alarm to many persons last night. Although the origins are not -known, it is thought that there is no danger. However, there has been -temporary disturbance to all long-lines communications, and air travel -is grounded while the explosion is being investigated." - -We switched to the radio: it was true. Only the UHF television bands -were on the air. - -I said, "I can't figure that. If there's enough disturbance to ruin -long-distance transmission, it ought to show up on the television." - -Rena said doubtfully, "I do not remember for sure, Tom, but is there -not something about television which limits its distance?" - -"Well--I suppose so, yes. It's a line of sight transmission, on these -frequencies at any rate. I don't suppose it has to be, except that all -the television bands fall in VHF or UHF channels." - -"Yes. And then, is it not possible that only the distance transmission -is interrupted? On purpose, I mean?" - -I slammed my hand on the arm of the chair. "On purpose! The -Company--they are trying to keep this thing localized. But the idiots, -don't they know that's impossible? Does Defoe think he can let the -world burn up without doing anything to stop it--just by keeping the -people from knowing what happened?" - -She shrugged. "I don't know, Tom." - -I didn't know either, but I suspected--and so did she. It was out -of the question that the Company, with its infinite resources, its -nerve-fibers running into every part of the world, should not know just -what that bomb was, and what it would do. And what few days the world -had--before the fall-out became dangerous--were none too many. - -Already the word should have been spread, and the first groups alerted -for movement into the vaults, to wait out the day when the air would be -pure again. If it was being delayed, there could be no good reason for -it. - - * * * * * - -The only reason was Defoe. But what, I asked myself miserably, was -Millen Carmody doing all this while? Was he going to sit back and -placidly permit Defoe to pervert every ideal of the Company? - -I could not believe it. It was not possible that the man who had -written the inspiring words in the Handbook could be guilty of genocide. - -Rena excused herself to look in on her father. Almost ashamed of -myself, I took the battered book from my pocket and opened it to check -on Millen Carmody's own preface. - -It was hard to reconcile the immensely reassuring words with what I had -seen. And, as I read them, I no longer felt safe and comforted. - - * * * * * - -There seemed to be no immediate danger, and Rena needed to get out -of that house. There was nothing for Benedetto to do but wait, and -Zorchi's servants could help him when it was necessary. - -I took her by the arm and we strolled out into the garden, breathing -deeply. That was a mistake. I had forgotten, in the inconspicuous air -conditioning of Zorchi's home, that we were in the center of the hemp -fields that had nearly cost me my dinner, so long ago, with Hammond. -I wondered if I ever would know just why Hammond was killed. Playing -both ends against the middle, it seemed--he had undoubtedly been in -with Slovetski's group. Rena had admitted as much, and I was privately -certain that he had been killed by them. - -But of more importance was the stench in our nostrils. "Perhaps," said -Rena, "across the road, in the walnut grove, it will not be as bad." - -I hesitated, but it felt safe in the warm Italian night, and so we -tried it. The sharp scent of the walnut trees helped a little; what -helped even more was that the turbinates of the nostril can stand just -so much, and when their tolerance is exceeded they surrender. So that -it wasn't too long before, though the stench was as strong as ever, we -hardly noticed it. - -We sat against the thick trunk of a tree, and Rena's head fitted -naturally against my shoulder. She was silent for a time, and so was -I--it seemed good to have silence, after violent struggle and death. - -Then she said: "Strange man." - -"Me?" - -"No. Oh, yes, Tom, if it comes to that, you, too. But I was thinking -just now of Zorchi. Is it true, what you told me of his growing legs -and arms so freely?" - -"I thought everyone in Naples knew that. I thought he was a national -hero." - -"Of course, but I have never really known that the stories were _true_. -How does it happen, Tom?" - -I shrugged. "Heaven knows, I don't. I doubt if even Zorchi knows. His -parents might have been involved in some sort of atomic business and -got radiated, and so they produced a mutation. It's perfectly possible, -you know." - -"I have heard so, Tom." - -"Or else it just happened. Something in his diet, in the way his glands -responded to a sickness, some sort of medicine. No one knows." - -"Cannot scientists hope to tell?" - -"Well--" it was beginning to sound like the seeds of one of our old -arguments--"well, I suppose so. Pure research isn't much encouraged, -these days." - -"But it should be, you think?" - -"Of course it should. The only hope of the world--" I trailed off. -Through the trees was a bright, distant glare, and I had just -remembered what it was. - -"Is what, Tom?" - -"There isn't any," I said, but only to myself. She didn't press me; -she merely burrowed into my arm. - -Perhaps the wind shifted, and the smell of the hemp fields grew -stronger; perhaps it was only the foul thought that the glaring sky had -triggered that contaminated my mood. But where I had been happy and -relaxed--the C-bomb completely out of my mind for the moment--now I was -too fully aware of what was ahead for all of us. - -"Let's go back, Rena," I said. She didn't ask why. Perhaps she, too, -was feeling the weight of our death sentence. - - * * * * * - -We caught the evening newscast; its story varied little from the early -ones. - -Benedetto still slept, but Zorchi joined us as we watched it. - -The announcer, face stamped with the careful blend of gravity and -confidence that marks tele-casters all over the world, was saying: -"Late word on the bomb exploded over the North Atlantic indicates that -there is some danger that radioactive ash may be carried to this area. -The danger zones are now being mapped and surveyed, and residents of -all such sections will be evacuated or placed in deep sleep until the -danger is over. - -"Blue Bolt policies give you complete protection against all hazards -from this explosion. I repeat, Blue Bolt policies give you complete -protection against all hazards from this explosion. Check your policies -and be sure of your status. There is absolutely no risk for any person -carrying the basic Blue Bolt minimum coverage or better." - -I clicked off the set. "I wonder what the people in Shanghai are -hearing tonight," I said. - -Zorchi had only listened without comment, when I told him about the -bomb that afternoon; he listened without comment now. - -Rena said: "Tom, I've been wondering. You know, I--I don't have any -insurance. Neither has my father, since we were canceled. And we're not -the only ones without it, either." - -I patted her hand. "We'll straighten this out," I promised. "You'll get -your coverage back." - -She gave me a skeptical look, but shook her head. "I don't mean just -about father and me. What about all of the uninsurables, all over the -world? The bomb goes off, and everybody with a policy files down into -the vaults, but what about the others?" - -I explained, "There are provisions for them. Some of them can be cared -for under the dependency-clauses in the policies of their next of -kin. Others have various charitable arrangements--some localities, -for instance, carry blanket floater policies for their paupers and -prisoners and so on. And--well, I don't suppose it would ever come to -that, but if someone turned up who had no coverage at all, he could -be cared for out of the loss-pool that the Company carries for such -contingencies. It wouldn't be luxurious, but he'd live. - - * * * * * - -"You see," I went on, warming to my subject, "the Company is set up -so the actual premiums paid are meaningless. The whole objective of -the Company is service; the premiums are only a way to that goal. The -Company has no interest other than the good of the world, and--" - -I stopped, feeling like a fool. Zorchi was laughing raucously. - -I said resentfully, "I guess I asked for that, Zorchi. Well, perhaps -what I said sounds funny. But, before God, Zorchi, that's the way the -Company is set up. Here--" I picked the Handbook from the end-table -beside me and tossed it to him--"read what Millen Carmody says. I won't -try to convince you. Just read it." - -He caught it expertly and dropped it on the floor before him. "So much -for your Chief Assassin," he remarked pleasantly. "The words are no -doubt honied, Weels, but I am not at this moment interested to read -them." - -I shrugged. It was peculiar how even a reasonable man--I have always -thought of myself as a reasonable man--could make a fool of himself. It -was no sin that habit had betrayed me into exalting the Company; but it -was, at the least, quite silly of me to take offense when my audience -disagreed with me. - -I said, in what must have been a surly tone, "I don't suppose you -are--why should you? You hate the Company from the word go." - -He shook his head mildly. "I? No, Weels. Believe me, I am the Company's -most devoted friend. Without it, how would I feed my five-times-a-day -appetite?" - -I sneered at him. "If you're a friend to the Company, then my best -buddy is a tapeworm." - -"Meaning that Zorchi is a parasite?" His eyes were furious. "Weels, -you impose on me too far! Be careful! Is it the act of a tapeworm that -I bleed and die, over and over? Is it something I chose, did I pray -to the saints, before my mother spawned me, that I should be born a -monster? No, Weels! We are alike, you gentlemen of the Company and -I--we live on blood money, it is true. But the blood I live on, man--it -is my own!" - -I said mollifyingly, "Zorchi, I've had a hard day. I didn't mean to be -nasty. I apologize." - -"Hah!" - -"No, really." - - * * * * * - -He shrugged, abruptly quiet. "It is of no importance," he said. "If I -wished to bear you a grudge, Weels, I would have more than that to give -me cause." He sighed. "It all looked quite simple twenty-four hours -ago, Weels. True, I had worked my little profession in this area as far -as it might go--with your help, of course. But the world was before -me--I had arranged to fly next week to the Parisian Anarch, to change -my name and, perhaps within a month, with a new policy, suffer a severe -accident that would provide me with francs for my hobbies. Why is it -that you bring bad news always?" - -I said, "Wasn't I of some little assistance to you at one time?" - -"In helping me from the deep-freeze? Oh, yes, perhaps. But didn't -you help me into it in the first place, as well? And surely you have -already had sufficient credit for aiding my escape--I observe the young -lady looking at you with the eyes of one who sees a hero." - -I said in irritation, "You're infuriating, Zorchi. I suppose you know -that. I never claimed any credit for helping you out of the clinic. As -a matter of fact, I don't think I ever mentioned it. Everyone assumed -that I had just happened to bring you along--no one questioned it." - -He flared, "You let them _assume_, Weels? You let them assume that -Zorchi was as helpless a side of pork as those other dead ones--you let -them guess that you stuck me with a needle, so that it would seem how -brave you were? Is it not true that I had revived by myself, Weels?" - -I felt myself growing angry. "Of course! But I just didn't see any -reason to--" - -"To divide the credit, is that it, Weels? No, say no more; I have -closed the subject. However, I point out that there is a difference -between the rescue of a helpless hulk and the mere casual assistance -one may be invited to give to a Zorchi." - -I let it go at that. There was no point in arguing with that man, ever. - -So I left the room--ostensibly to look in on Benedetto, actually to -cool off a little. Benedetto seemed fine--that is, the dressings were -still in place, he had not moved, his breath and pulse were slow and -regular. I took my time before I went back to the room where Zorchi -still sat waiting. - -He had taken advantage of the time to improve his mind. The man's -curiosity was insatiable; the more he denied it, the more it stuck out -all over him. He had thrown the Handbook on the floor when I gave it to -him, but as soon as I was out of sight he was leafing through it. He -had it open on his lap, face down, as he faced me. - -"Weels." There was, for once, no sardonic rasp to his voice. And his -face, I saw, was bone-white. "Weels, permit me to be sure I understand -you. It is your belief that this intelligent plan of seeding the world -with poison to make it well will succeed, because you believe that a -Signore Carmody will evict Defoe from power?" - -I said, "Well, not exactly--" - -"But almost exactly? That is, you require this Millen Carmody for your -plan?" - -"It wasn't _my_ plan. But you're right about the other." - -"Very good." He extended the Handbook to me. "There is here a picture -which calls itself Millen Carmody. Is that the man?" - -I glanced at the familiar warm eyes on the frontispiece. "That's right. -Have you seen him?" - -"I have, indeed." The shaggy beard was twitching--I did not know -whether with laughter or the coming of tears. "I saw him not long ago, -Weels. It was in what they call Bay 100--you remember? He was in a -little bag like the pasta one carries home from a store. He was quite -sound asleep, Weels, in the shelf just below the one I woke up in." - - -XV - -So now at last I knew why Millen Carmody had permitted Defoe to turn -the Company into a prison cell for the world. He couldn't forbid it, -because the dead can forbid nothing, and Carmody was sleeping with the -dead. No wonder Defoe was so concerned with the Naples sector! - -How long? How long had Carmody been quietly out of the way, while -Defoe made his plans and took his steps, and someone in a little room -somewhere confected "statements" with Millen Carmody's signature on -them and "interviews" that involved only one man? - -It could not have been less than five or six years, I thought, counting -back to the time when Defoe's name first began to register with me as -an ordinary citizen, before I had married his cousin. Six years. That -was the date of the Prague-Vienna war. And the year following, Hanoi -clashed with Cebu. And the year after that, Auckland and Adelaide. - -What in God's name was Defoe's plan? Nothing as simple as putting -Carmody out of the way so that he could loot the Company. No man could -wish to be that rich! It was meaningless.... - -Defoe could be playing for only one thing--power. - -But it didn't matter; all that mattered was that now I knew that -Carmody was an enemy to Defoe. He was therefore an ally to Rena and to -me, and we needed allies. But how might we get Carmody out of Bay 100? - -There weren't any good answers, though Rena and I, with the help of -grumbling comments from Zorchi, debated it until the morning light -began to shine. Frontal assault on the clinic was ridiculous. Even -a diversionary raid such as Rena had staged to try to rescue her -father--only ten days before!--would hardly get us in through the -triple-locked door of Bay 100. Even if Slovetski's movement had still -been able to muster the strength to do it, which was not likely. - -It was maddening. I had hidden the hypodermic Rena had brought in Bay -100 to get it out of the way. Undoubtedly it was there still--perhaps -only a few yards from Millen Carmody. If fifty cubic centimeters of a -watery purplish liquid could have been plucked from the little glass -bottle and moved the mere inches to the veins of his arms, the problem -would be solved--for he could open the door from inside as easily as -Zorchi had, and certainly once he was that far we could manage to get -him out. - -But the thing was impossible, no matter how we looked at it. - - * * * * * - -I suppose I fell asleep sitting in that chair, because I woke up in it. -It was in the middle of a crazy nightmare about an avenging angel with -cobalt-blue eyes burning at me out of heaven; and I wanted to run from -him, but I was frozen by a little man with a hypodermic of ice. I woke -up, and I was facing the television set. Someone--Rena, I suppose--had -covered me with a light spread. The set was blaring a strident tenor -voice. Zorchi was hunched over, watching some opera; I might as well -have been a thousand miles away. - -I lay blearily watching the tiny figures flickering around the screen, -not so much forgetting all the things that were on my mind as knowing -what they were and that they existed, but lacking the strength to pick -them up and look at them. The opera seemed to concern an Egyptian queen -and a priest of some sort; I was not very interested in it, though it -seemed odd that Zorchi should watch it so eagerly. - -Perhaps, after all, there was something to his maudlin -self-pity--perhaps I really did think of him as a monster or a dog, for -I was as uneasy to see him watching an opera as I would have been to -see an ape play the flute. - -I heard trucks going by on the highway. By and by it began to penetrate -through the haze that I was hearing a _lot_ of trucks going by on the -highway. I had no idea how heavily traveled the Naples-Caserta road -might be, but from the sound, they seemed nearly bumper to bumper, -whizzing along at seventy or eighty miles an hour. - -I got up stiffly and walked over to the window. - -I had not been far wrong. There was a steady stream of traffic in both -directions--not only trucks but buses and private cars, everything from -late-model gyromaxions to ancient piston-driven farm trucks. - -Zorchi heard me move, and turned toward me with a hooded expression. I -pointed to the window. - -"What's up?" I asked. - -He said levelly, "The end of the world. It is now official; it has been -on the television. Oh, they do not say it in just so many words, but it -is there." - -I turned to the television set and flicked off the tape-relay -switch--apparently the opera had been recorded. Zorchi glared, but -didn't try to stop me as I hunted on the broadcast bands for a news -announcer. - -I didn't have far to hunt. Every channel was the same: The Company was -issuing orders and instructions. Every man, woman and child was to be -ready within ten days for commitment to the clinic.... - -I tried to imagine the scenes of panic and turmoil that would be going -on in downtown Naples at that moment. - - * * * * * - -The newscaster was saying: "Remember, if your Basic Blue Bolt policy -number begins with the letters A, B or C--if it begins with the letters -A, B or C--you are to report to the local first aid or emergency post -at six hundred hours tomorrow. There is no danger. I repeat, there is -no danger. This is merely a precaution taken by the Company for your -protection." He didn't really look as though there were no danger, -however. He looked like a man confronted by a ghost. - -I switched to another channel. An equally harried-looking announcer: -"--reported by a team of four physicists from the Royal University to -have produced a serious concentration of radioactive byproducts in the -upper atmosphere. It is hoped that the cloud of dangerous gases will -veer southward and pass harmlessly through the Eastern Mediterranean; -however, strictly as a precautionary measure, it is essential that -every person in this area be placed in a safety zone during the danger -period, the peak of which is estimated to come within the next fourteen -days. If there is any damage, it will be only local and confined to -livestock--for which you will be reimbursed under your Blue Bolt -coverage." - -I switched to another channel. _Local_ damage! Local to the face of the -Earth! - -I tried all the channels; they were all the same. - -The Company had evidently decided to lie to the human race. Keep -them in the dark--make each little section believe that only it was -affected--persuade them that they would be under for, at most, a few -weeks or months. - -Was that, I wondered, Defoe's scheme? Was he planning to try somehow to -convince four billion people that fifty years were only a few weeks? -It would never work--the first astronomer to look at a star, the first -seaman to discover impossible errors in his tide table, would spot the -lie. - -More likely he was simply proceeding along what must always have been -his basic assumption: The truth is wasted on the people. - -Zorchi said with heavy irony, "If my guest is quite finished with the -instrument, perhaps he will be gracious enough to permit me to resume -Aïda." - - * * * * * - -I woke Rena and told her about the evacuation. She said, yawning, "But -of course, Tom. What else could they do?" And she began discussing -breakfast. - -I went with her, but not to eat; in the dining hall was a small -television set, and on it I could listen to the same repeat broadcasts -over and over to my heart's content. It was--in a way--a thrilling -sight. It is always impressive to see a giant machine in operation, and -there was no machine bigger than the Company. - -The idea of suspending a whole world, even piecemeal, was staggering. -But if there had been panic at first in the offices of the Company, -none of it showed. The announcers were harried and there was bustle and -strain, but order presided. - -Those long lines of vehicles outside the window; they were going -somewhere; they were each one, I could see by the medallion slung -across each radiator front, on the payroll of the Company. - -Perhaps the trick of pretending to each section that only it would be -affected was wise--I don't know. It was working, and I suppose that -is the touchstone of wisdom. Naples knew that something was going on -in Rome, of course, but was doubtful about the Milanese Republic. The -Romans were in no doubt at all about Milan, but weren't sure about the -Duchy of Monaco, down the Riviera shore. And the man on the street, if -he gave it a thought at all, must have been sure that such faraway -places as America and China were escaping entirely. - -I suppose it was clever--there was no apparent panic. The trick took -away the psychological horror of world catastrophe and replaced it -with only a local terror, no different in kind than an earthquake or -a flood. And there was always the sack of gold at the end of every -catastrophe: Blue Bolt would pay for damage, with a free and uncounting -hand. - -Except that this time, of course, Blue Bolt would not, could not, pay -at all. - - * * * * * - -By noon, Benedetto was out of bed. - -He shouldn't have been, but he was conscious and we could not make him -stay put--short of chains. - -He watched the television and then listened as Rena and I brought him -up to date. Like me, he was shocked and then encouraged to find that -Millen Carmody was in the vaults--encouraged because it was at least a -handle for us to grasp the problem with; if we could get at Carmody, -perhaps we could break Defoe's usurped power. Without him, Defoe -would simply use the years while the world slept to forge a permanent -dictatorship. - -We got the old man to lie down, and left him. But not for long. Within -the hour he came tottering to where we were sitting, staring at the -television. He waved aside Rena's quick protest. - -"There is no time for rest, my daughter," he said. "Do not scold me. I -have a task." - -Rena said worriedly, "Dear, you _must_ stay in bed. The doctor said--" - -"The doctor," Benedetto said formally, "is a fool. Shall I allow us to -die here? Am I an ancient idiot, or am I Benedetto dell'Angela who with -Slovetski led twenty thousand men?" - -Rena said, "Please! You're sick!" - -"Enough." Benedetto wavered, but stood erect. "I have telephoned. I -have learned a great deal. The movement--" he leaned against the wall -for support--"was not planned by fools. We knew there might be bad -days; we do not collapse because a few of us are put out of service by -the Company. I have certain emergency numbers to call; I call them. And -I find--" he paused dramatically--"that there is news. Slovetski has -escaped!" - -I said, "That's impossible! Defoe wouldn't let him go!" - -"Perhaps Slovetski did not consult him," Benedetto said with dignity. -"At any rate, he is free and not far from here. And he is the answer -we have sought, you understand." - -"How?" I demanded. "What can he do that we can't?" - -Benedetto smiled indulgently, though the smile was strained. His wound -must have been giving him hell; it had had just enough time to stiffen -up. He said, "Leave that to Slovetski, Thomas. It is his métier, not -yours. I shall go to him now." - -Well, I did what I could; but Benedetto was an iron-necked old man. I -forbade him to leave and he laughed at me. I begged him to stay and he -thanked me--and refused. Finally I abandoned him to Rena and Zorchi. - -Zorchi gave up almost at once. "A majestic man!" he said admiringly, as -he rolled into the room where I was waiting, on his little power cart. -"One cannot reason with him." - -And Rena, in time, gave up, too. But not easily. She was weeping when -she rejoined me. - - * * * * * - -She had been unable even to get him to let her join him, or to consider -taking someone else with him; he said it was his job alone. She didn't -even know where he was going. He had said it was not permissible, in so -critical a situation, for him to tell where Slovetski was. - -Zorchi coughed. "As to that," he said, "I have already taken the -liberty of instructing one of my associates to be ready. If the Signore -has gone to meet Slovetski, my man is following him...." - -So we waited, while the television announcers grew more and more -grim-lipped and imperative. - -I listened with only half my mind. Part of my thoughts were with -Benedetto, who should have been in a hospital instead of wandering -around on some dangerous mission. And partly I was still filled with -the spectacle that was unfolding before us. - -It was not merely a matter of preserving human lives. It was almost as -important to provide the newly awakened men and women, fifty years from -now, with food to eat and the homes and tools and other things that -would be needed. - -Factories and transportation gear--according to the telecasts--were -being shut down and sealed to stand up under the time that would -pass--"weeks," according to the telecast, but who needed to seal a -tool in oil for a few weeks? Instructions were coming hourly over -the air on what should be protected in each home, and how it was to -be done. Probably even fifty years would not seriously damage most -of the world's equipment--if the plans we heard on the air could be -efficiently carried out. - -But the farms were another matter. The preserving of seeds was -routine, but I couldn't help wondering what these flat Italian fields -would look like in fifty untended years. Would the radiocobalt -sterilize even the weeds? I didn't think so, but I didn't know. If not, -would the Italian peninsula once again find itself covered with the -dense forests that Caesar had marched through, where Spartacus and his -runaway slaves had lurked and struck out against the Senators? - -And how many millions would die while the forests were being cleared -off the face of the Earth again to make way for grain? Synthetic foods -and food from the sea might solve that--the Company could find a way. -But what about the mines--three, four and five thousand feet down--when -the pumps were shut off and the underground water seeped in? What about -the rails that the trains rode on? You could cosmoline the engines, -perhaps, but how could you protect a million miles of track from the -rains of fifty years? - -So I sat there, watching the television and waiting. Rena was too -nervous to stay in one place. Zorchi had mysterious occupations of his -own. I sat and stared at the cathode screen. - -Until the door opened behind me, and I turned to look. - -Rena was standing there. Her face was an ivory mask. She clutched the -door as her father had a few hours before; I think she looked weaker -and sicker than he. - -I said, for the first time, "Darling!" She stood silent, staring at me. -I asked apprehensively, "What is it?" - -The pale lips opened, but it was a moment before she could frame the -words. Then her voice was hard to hear. "My father," she said. "He -reached the place where he was meeting Slovetski, but the expediters -were there before him. They shot him down in the street. And they are -on their way here." - - -XVI - -It was quick and brutal. Somehow Benedetto had been betrayed; the -expediters had known where he had come from. And that was the end of -that. - -They came swarming down on us in waves, at least a hundred of them, to -capture a man, a girl and a cripple--Zorchi's servants had deserted us, -melting into the hemp fields like roaches into a garbage dump. Zorchi -had a little gun, a Beretta; he fired it once and wounded a man. - -The rest was short and unpleasant. - -They bound us and gagged us and flew us, trussed like game for the -spit, to the clinic. I caught a glimpse of milling mobs outside the -long, low walls as we came down. Then all I could see was the roof of -the copter garage. - -We were brought to a tiny room where Defoe sat at a desk. The -Underwriter was smiling. "Hello, Thomas," he said, his eyes studying -the bruise on my cheek. He turned toward Rena consideringly. "So this -is your choice, eh, Thomas?" He studied Rena coolly. "Hardly my type. -Still, by sticking with me, you could have had a harem." - -Bound as I was, I started forward. Something hit me in the back at -my first step, driving a hot rush of agony up from my kidneys. Defoe -watched me catch my breath without a change of expression. - -"My men are quite alert, Thomas. Please do not try that again. Once is -amusing, but twice would annoy me." He sighed. "I seem to have been -wrong about you, Thomas. Perhaps because I needed someone's help, I -overestimated you. I thought long ago that beneath your conditioning -you had brains. Manning is a machine, good for taking orders. Dr. -Lawton is loyal, but not intelligent. And between loyalty and -intelligence, I'll take brains. Loyalty I can provide for myself." He -nodded gravely at the armed expediters. - -Zorchi spat. "Kill us, butcher," he ordered. "It is enough I die -without listening to your foolish babbling." - -Defoe considered him. "You interest me, Signore. A surprise, finding -you revived and with Wills. Before we're finished, you must tell me -about that." - -I saw Zorchi bristle and open his mouth, but a cold, suddenly -calculating idea made me interrupt. "To get dell'Angela out as an -attendant, I needed a patient for him to wheel. Zorchi had money, and I -_expected_ gratitude when I revived him later. It wasn't hard getting -Lawton's assistant to stack his cocoon near Benedetto's." - -"Lawton!" Defoe grimaced, but seemed to accept the story. He smiled -at me suddenly. "I had hopes for you, then. That escape was well -done--simple, direct. A little crude, but a good beginning. You could -have been my number one assistant, Thomas. I thought of that when I -heard of the things you were saying after Marianna died--I thought you -might be awaking." - -I licked my lips. "And when you picked me up after Marianna's death, -and bailed me out of jail, you made sure the expediter corps had -information that I was possibly not reliable. You made sure the -information reached the underground, so they would approach me and I -could spy for you. You wanted a patsy!" - -The smile was gleaming this time. "Naturally, until you could prove -yourself. And of course, I had you jailed for the things you said -because I wanted it that way. A pity all my efforts were wasted on you, -Thomas. I'm afraid you're not equipped to be a spy." - -It took everything I had, but this time I managed to smile back. "On -which side, Defoe? How many spies know you've got Millen Carmody down -in Bay--" - -That hit him. But I didn't have time to enjoy it. He made a sudden -gesture, and the expediters moved. This time, when they dragged me -down, it was very bad. - - * * * * * - -When I came to, I was in another room. Zorchi and Rena were with me, -but not Defoe. It was a preparation chamber, racked with instruments, -furnished with surgical benches. - -A telescreen was flickering and blaring unheeded at one end of the -room. I caught a glimpse of scenes of men, women and children standing -in line, going in orderly queues through the medical inspections, -filing into the clinic and its local branch stations for the sleep -drug. The scenes were all in Naples; but they must have been, with -local variations, on every telescreen on the globe. - -Dr. Lawton appeared. He commanded coldly: "Take your clothes off." - -I think that was the most humiliating moment of all. - -It was, of course, only a medical formality. I knew that the suspendees -had to be nude in their racks. But the very impersonality of the -proceeding made it ugly. Reluctantly I began to undress, as did Rena, -silent and withdrawn, and Zorchi, sputtering anger and threats. My -whole body was a mass of redness; in a few hours the red would turn to -purple and black, where the hoses of the expediters had caressed me. - -Or did a suspendee bruise? Probably not. But it was small satisfaction. - -Lawton was looking smug; no doubt he had insisted on the privilege of -putting us under himself after I'd blamed him for Zorchi's escape. I -couldn't blame him; I would have returned the favor with great joy. - -Well, I had wanted to reach Millen Carmody, and Defoe was granting my -wish. We might even lie on adjacent racks in Bay 100. After what I'd -told Defoe, we should rate such reserved space! - -Lawton approached with the hypospray, and a pair of expediters grabbed -my arms. He said: "I want to leave one thought with you, Wills. Maybe -it will give you some comfort." His smirk told me that it certainly -would not. "Only Defoe and I can open Bay 100," he reminded me. "I -don't think either of us will; and I expect you will stay there a long, -long time." - -He experimentally squirted a faint mist from the tip of the hypospray -and nodded satisfaction. He went on: "The suspension is effective for -a long time--several hundred years, perhaps. But not forever. In time -the enzymes of the body begin to digest the body itself." He pursed his -lips thoughtfully. "I don't know if the sleeping brain knows it is pain -or not. If it does, you'll know what it feels like to dissolve in your -own gutwash...." - -He smiled. "Good night," he crooned, and bent over my arm. - -The spray from the end of the hypo felt chilly, but not at all painful. -It was as though I had been touched with ice; the cold clung, and -spread. - -I was vaguely conscious of being dumped on one of the surgical tables, -even more vaguely aware of seeing Rena slumping across another. - -The light in the room yellowed, flickered and went out. - -I thought I heard Rena's voice.... - -Then I heard nothing. And I saw nothing. And I felt nothing, except -the penetrating cold, and then even the cold was gone. - - -XVII - -My nerves throbbed with the prickling of an infinity of needles. I was -cold--colder than I had ever been. And over everything else came the -insistent, blurred voice of Luigi Zorchi. - -"Weels! Weels!" - -At first it was an annoyance. Then, abruptly, full consciousness came -rushing back, bringing some measure of triumph with it. It had worked! -My needling of Defoe and my concealing of Zorchi's ability to revive -himself had succeeded in getting us all put into Bay 100, where the -precious hypodermic and fluid were hidden. After being pushed from -pillar to post and back, even that much success was enough to shock me -into awareness. - -My heart was thumping like a rusty cargo steamer in a high sea. My -lungs ached for air and burned when they got it. But I managed to -open my eyes to see Zorchi bending over me. Beyond him, I saw the -blue-lighted sterilizing lamps, the door that opened from inside, and -the racked suspendees of Bay 100. - -"It is time! But now finally you awake, you move!" Zorchi grumbled. -"The body of Zorchi does not surrender to poisons; it throws them -off. But then because of these small weak legs, I must wait for you! -Come, Weels, no more dallying! We have still work to do to escape this -abomination!" - -I sat up clumsily, but the drugs seemed to have been neutralized. I was -on the bottom tier, and I managed to locate the floor with my legs and -stand up. "Thanks, Zorchi," I told him, trying to avoid looking at his -ugly, naked body and the things that were almost his legs. - -"Thanks are due," he admitted. "I am a modest man who expects no -praise, but I have done much. I cannot deny it. It took greatness to -crawl through this bay to find you. On my hands and these baby knees, -Weels, I crawled. Almost. I am overcome with wonder at so heroic--But -I digress. Weels, waste no more time in talking. We must revive the -others who are above my reach. Then let us, for God, go and find food." - -Somehow, though I was still weak, I managed to follow Zorchi and drag -down the sacks containing Rena and Carmody. And while waiting for them -to revive, I began to realize how little chance we would have to escape -this time, naked and uncertain of what state affairs were in. I also -realized what might happen if Lawton or Defoe decided to check up on -Bay 100 now! - -For the few minutes while Rena revived and recognized me, and while I -explained how I'd figured it out, it was worth any risk. Then finally, -Carmody stirred and sat up. Maybe we looked enough like devils in a -blue hell to justify his first expression. - - * * * * * - -He wasn't much like my mental image of the great Millen Carmody. His -face was like his picture, but it was an older face and haggard under -the ugly light. Age was heavy on him, and he couldn't have been a noble -figure at any time. Now he was a pot-bellied little man with scrawny -legs and a faint tremble to his hands. - -But there was no fat in his mind as he tried to absorb our explanations -while he answered our questions in turn. He'd come to Naples, bringing -his personal physician, Dr. Lawton. His last memory was of Lawton -giving him a shot to relieve his indigestion. - -It must have been rough to wake up here after that and find what a -mess had been made of the world. But he took it, and his questions -became sharper as he groped for the truth. Finally he sat back, nodding -sickly. "Defoe!" he said bitterly. "Well, what do we do now, Mr. -Wills?" - -It shook me. I'd unconsciously expected him to take over at once. But -the eyes of Rena and Zorchi also turned to me. Well, there wasn't much -choice. We couldn't stay here and risk discovery. Nor could we hide -anywhere in the clinic; when Defoe found us gone, no place would be -safe. - -"We pray," I decided. "And if prayers help, maybe we'll find some way -out." - -"I can help," Carmody offered. He grimaced. "I know this place and -the combination to the private doors. Would it help if we reached the -garage?" - -I didn't know, but the garage was half a mile beyond the main entrance. -If we could steal a car, we might make it. We had to try. - -There were sounds of activity when we opened the door, but the section -we were in seemed to be filled, and the storing of suspendees had moved -elsewhere. - -We shut and relocked the door and followed Carmody through the -seemingly endless corridors, with Zorchi hobbling along, leaning on -Rena and me and sweating in agony. We offered to carry him, but he -would have none of that. We moved further and further back, while the -sight of Carmody's round, bare bottom ahead ripped my feeling of awe -for him into smaller and smaller shreds. - -He stopped at a door I had almost missed and his fingers tapped out -something on what looked like an ornamental pattern. The door opened -to reveal stairs that led down two flights, winding around a small -elevator shaft. At the bottom was a long corridor that must be the one -leading underground to the garage. Opposite the elevator was another -door, and Carmody worked its combination to reveal a storeroom, loaded -with supplies the expediters might need. - -He ripped a suit of the heavy gray coveralls off the wall and began -donning them. "Radiation suits," he explained. They were ugly things, -but better than nothing. Anyone seeing us in them might think we were -on official business. Zorchi shook off our help and somehow got into -a pair. Then he grunted and began pulling hard-pellet rifles and -bandoliers of ammunition off the wall. - - * * * * * - -"Now, Weels, we are prepared. Let them come against us. Zorchi is -ready!" - -"Ready to kill yourself!" I said roughly. "Those things take practice!" - -"And again I am the freak--the case who can do nothing that humans can -do, eh, Weels?" He swore thickly, and there was something in his voice -that abruptly roughened it. "Never Zorchi the man! There are Sicilians -who would tell you different, could they open dead mouths to speak of -their downed planes!" - -"He was the best jet pilot Naples had," Rena said quietly. - -It was my turn to curse. He was right; I hadn't thought of him as -a man, or considered that he could do anything but regrow damaged -tissues. "I'm sorry, Luigi!" - -"No matter." He sighed, and then shrugged. "Come, take arms and -ammunition and let us be out of this place. Even the nose of Zorchi can -stand only so much of the smell of assassins!" - -We moved down the passage, staggering along for what seemed to be -hours, expecting every second to run into some official or expediter -force. But apparently the passage wasn't being used much during the -emergency. We finally reached stairs at the other end and headed up, -afraid to attract attention by taking the waiting elevator. - -At the top, Carmody frowned as he studied the side passages and doors. -"Here, I guess," he decided. "This may still be a less used part of the -garage." He reached for the door. - -I stopped him. "Wait a minute. Is there any way back in, once we leave?" - -"The combination will work--the master combination used by the Company -heads. Otherwise, these doors are practically bomb-proof!" He pressed -the combination and opened the door a crack. - -Outside, I could see what seemed to be a small section of the Company -car pool. There were sounds of trucks, but none were moving nearby. I -saw a few men working on trucks a distance from us. Maybe luck was on -our side. - -I pointed to the nearest expediter patrol wagon--a small truck, really, -enclosed except for the driver's seat. "That one, if there's fuel. -We'll have to act as if we had a right to it, and hope for the best. -Zorchi, can you manage it that far?" - -"I shall walk like a born assassin," he assured me, but sweat began -popping onto his forehead at what he was offering. Yet there was no -sign of the agony he must have felt as he followed and managed to climb -into the back with Rena and Carmody. - -The fuel gauge was at the half mark and, as yet, there was no cry of -alarm. I gunned the motor into life, watching the nearest workmen. They -looked up casually, and then went back to their business. Ahead, I -could see a clear lane toward the exit, with a few other trucks moving -in and out. I headed for it, my hair prickling at the back of my neck. - - * * * * * - -We reached the entrance, passed through it, and were soon blending into -the stream of cars that were passing the clinic on their way out for -more suspension cases. - -The glass doors of the entrance were gone now, and workmen were putting -up huge steel ones in their place, even while a steady stream of cases -were hobbling or being carried into the clinic. Most of them were old -or shabby, I noticed. The class-D type. The last ones to be admitted. -We must have spent more time in the vault than I'd thought, and zero -hour was drawing near. - -Beyond the clinic, the whole of Anzio was a mass of abandoned cars that -seemed to stretch for miles, and the few buildings not boarded up were -obviously class-D dwellings, too poor to worry about. I cursed my way -through a jam-up of trucks, and managed to find one of the side roads. - -Then I pressed down on the throttle as far as I dared without -attracting attention, until I could find a safe place to turn off with -no other cars near to see me. - -"Where to?" I asked. We couldn't go back to Zorchi's, since any -expediter investigation would start there. Maybe we'd never be missed, -but I couldn't risk it. If we had to, we could use some abandoned -villa and hide out, but I was hoping for a better suggestion. - -Zorchi looked blank, and Rena shrugged. "If we could only find -Nikolas--" she suggested doubtfully. - -I shook my head. I'd had a chance to think about that a little while -the expediters took us to see Defoe, and I didn't like it. The leader -of the revolution had apparently been captured by Defoe. According to -Benedetto dell'Angela, he'd escaped. Yet Defoe hadn't tried to pump us -about him. And when Benedetto set out to meet him, the expediters had -descended at once. - -It made an ugly picture. I had no wish to go looking for the man. - -"There's my place," Carmody said finally. "I had places all over the -world, kept ready for me and stocked. If Defoe let it be thought that I -had retired, he must have kept them all up as I'd have done. Wait, let -me orient myself. Up that road." - -Places all over the world, with food that was wasted, and with servants -who might never see their master! And I'd been brought up believing -that the Underwriters were men of quiet, simple tastes! Carmody's clay -feet were beginning to crumble up to the navel! - - * * * * * - -The villa was surrounded by trees, on a low hill that overlooked an -artificial lake. It had been sealed off, but the combination lock -yielded to Carmody's touch. There were beds made up and waiting, -freezers stocked with food that sent Zorchi into ecstasy, and even a -complete file of back issues of the Company paper. Carmody headed for -those, with the look of a man hunting his lost past. He had a lot of -catching up to do. - -But it was the television set that interested me. It was still working, -with taped material being broadcast. The appeal had been stepped up, -asking for order and cooperation; I recognized the language as being -pitched toward the lower classes now, though. And the clicking of a -radiation-counter sounded as a constant background, with occasional -shots of its meter, the needle well into the danger area. - -Zorchi joined me and Rena, dribbling crumbs of meat down his beard. He -snorted as he caught sight of the counter. "There is a real one in the -other room, and it registers higher," he said. "It is interesting. For -me, of no import. Doctors whom I trust have said Defoe is wrong; my -body can resist damage from radiation--and perhaps even from old age. -But for you and the young lady...." - -He shut up at my expression, but the tape cut off and a live announcer -came on before I could say anything. "A bulletin just in," he said, -"shows that the government of Naples has unanimously passed a -moritorium on all contracts, obligations and indebtedness for the -duration of the emergency. The Company has just followed this with -a declaration that it will extend the moritorium to include all -crimes against the Company. During the emergency, the clinics will be -available to all without prejudice, Director Defoe said today." - -"A trap," Rena guessed. "We wouldn't have a chance, anyhow. But, Tom, -does the other mean that--" - -"It means your father was wrong," I answered. "As of right now--and -probably in every government at the same time--the Company has been -freed from any responsibility." - -It didn't make any difference, of course. Benedetto had expected that -everyone must secretly hate the Company as he did; he hadn't realized -that men who have just been saved from the horrible danger of radiation -death aren't going to turn against the agency that saved them. And -damn it, the Company _was_ saving them, after its opponents had -risked annihilation of the race. Defoe would probably make sure the -suspendees were awakened at a rate where he could keep absolute power, -but not from any danger of bankruptcy. - - * * * * * - -Carmody had come out and listened, attracted by the broadcast radiation -clicking, apparently. Now he asked enough questions to discover -Benedetto's idea, and shook his head. - -"It wouldn't work," he agreed with me. "Even if I still had control, -I couldn't permit such a thing. What good would it do? Could money -payments make food for a revived world, Miss dell'Angela? Would -bankrupting the only agency capable of rebuilding the Earth be a thing -of honor? Besides, even with what I've read, I can see no hope. There's -nothing we can do." - -"But if you can arouse the other Underwriters against Defoe," she -insisted, "at least you can prevent _his_ type of world!" - -He shook his head. "How? All communications are in his hands. Even if -I could fly to the Home Office, most of the ones I could trust--and -there apparently are a few Defoe hasn't been able to retire--would be -scattered, out of my reach. A week ago, there might have been a chance. -Now, it's impossible. Impossible." - -He shook his head sadly and wandered back toward the library. I could -see that in his secret thoughts, he was wishing we'd left him safely -in the vault. Maybe it would have been just as well. - -"Cheer up," I told Rena. "Carmody's an old man--too old to think in -terms of direct action, even when it's necessary. Defoe doesn't own the -world yet!" - -But later, when I located the books I wanted in the library and went -out into the vine-covered bower in the formal garden, I wasn't as -confident as I'd pretended. - -Thinking wasn't a pleasant job, after all the years when I'd let others -do my thinking for me. But now I had to do it for myself. Otherwise, -the only alternative was to plan some means of quick death for us all -before the radiation got too intense. And I couldn't accept that. - -Rena had managed something Marianna couldn't have conceived--she'd -quietly relinquished her fate into my hands, gambling on me with -everything she had. Whether I wanted to or not, I'd taken the -responsibility. Carmody was an old man; one who hadn't been able to -keep Defoe from taking over in the first place. And Zorchi--well, he -was Zorchi. - -That night, the radiation detector suddenly took a sharp lift, its -needle crossing over into the red. It was probably only a local rise. -But it didn't make my thinking any more comfortable. - - * * * * * - -It was at breakfast that next morning when I finally took it up with -Carmody. "Just what will the situation be at the clinic after they -close down? How many will be kept awake? And what about their defenses?" - -He frowned, trying to see my idea. Then he shrugged. "Too many, Tom. -We had plotted out a course for such things as this a number of times -in Planning. And our mob psychologists warned that there'd inevitably -be a few who for one reason or another wouldn't come in in time, but -who would then grow desperate and try to break in. Outlaws, looters, -procrastinators, fanatics. That sort. So for some time, there should -be at least twenty guards kept alert. And that's enough to defend a -clinic. Atomic cannon at every entrance, of course, and the clinics are -bomb-proof." - -"Twenty, eh? And how about Defoe and Lawton? Will they sleep?" It -seemed logical that they couldn't stay out of suspension for the whole -fifty years or so. There'd be no profit to gaining a world after they -were too old to use it. - -"Not at first. There's a great deal of final administrative work to be -done. There's a chamber equipped to keep a hundred or so men awake -with radiation washed from the air, and containing adequate supplies, -in cable contact with other clinics. They'll be there. Later, they'll -take shifts, with only a couple of men awake at a time, I suppose. They -may age a little that way, but not much." - -He frowned again, and then slowly nodded. "It could be done, if we had -some way to wait safely for six months. Getting back in is no problem -for me." - -"It's going to be done," I told him. "And a lot sooner. Are you willing -to take the chance?" - -"Have I any choice?" He shrugged again. "Do you think I haven't been -sick at the idea of a man like Defoe in command of the Company for -as long as he lives? Tom, my family started the Company. I've got an -obligation to restore it to its right course. If there's any chance of -keeping Defoe from being emperor of the world, I've got to take it. If -you can put me in a position where I can get the honest Underwriters -together again, where we can set up the Company as it was--" - -"Why? So this will happen all over again?" - -He looked shocked at Rena's question. "I don't blame you for being -bitter, Miss dell'Angela. But with Defoe gone--" - -"The Company made Defoe possible. In fact, it made him and Slovetski -inevitable," I told him flatly. "That's its one great crime. Whenever -you take power completely out of the hands of the many, it winds up in -fewer and fewer hands. Those histories I was reading last night prove -that. Carmody, what do you know about your own Company? Or the world? -Leave the consolidation of power in Company hands out of it, and what -has happened to progress?" - -He frowned. "Well, we've leveled off a bit. We had to. We couldn't -risk--" - -"Exactly. You couldn't risk research that would lead to increased -longevity--too many pensioners. You couldn't risk going to -Mars--unpredictable dangers. You had to make the world fit actuarial -charts. I remember seeing one of the first suspendees awakened. He -expected things we could have done fifty years ago--and never will do. -How many men today work their way out of their class? And why have -classes so rigidly stratified? I've been reading your own speeches of -nearly fifty years ago. I've got them here, together with some tables. -Like to see them?" - - * * * * * - -He took the papers silently and began going through them, his shock -giving way to a grudging realization. Maybe without the jolt of his -awakening, he'd have laughed them off, but nothing was easy to dismiss -with the hell brewing outside. At last he looked up. - -"Tom, I'll admit the many times when I've been worried. I've considered -starting research again countless times. I've been aware that -dependence was growing too heavy on the Company. But we can't just toss -it aside. It did bring an end to major war, when such a war would have -ruined the Earth completely. It showed that nobody had to starve--that -hardly anyone had to lack for any necessity, or die for lack of care. -You can't throw that away." - -"You can throw away its unrelated power." I knew I didn't have the -answers. All this had been growing slowly in my mind since I'd first -found Benedetto a political prisoner, but a lifetime wasn't enough to -think it out, even with the books I'd found. - -But I had to try. "In the middle ages, they had morality and politics -tied into one bundle, Carmody. The church ruled. It wasn't good and -they finally had to divorce church and state. Maybe the same applies -to administrative politics and economics. The Company has shown what -can be done economically. The church has survived as a great moral -force outside material power. Now let's see if we can't put things in -perspective. - -"There's a precedent. The United States--the old government--was set -up on the idea of balance of power: an elected Congress for the people -to handle legislative tasks, a selected President to handle executive -affairs, and a Judiciary mostly independent. On a world scale, as it -can be done today--since the Company has really made it one world--the -same can be done, with something like the Company to insure economics." - -"I suppose every man who had any idealism has thought the same," -Carmody said slowly. He sighed softly. "I remember trying to preach it -to my father when I was just out of college. You're right. But can you -set up such a perfect government? Can I? Tell me how, Tom, and I'll -give you your chance, if I can." - -Zorchi laughed cynically, but that was what I'd hoped Carmody might say. - -"All right," I told him. "We can't do it. No one man is fit to rule, -ever, or to establish rule. Oh, I had wish-dreams, a few days ago, I -suppose, about what I'd do, _if_! But men have set out to establish -new systems before, and done good jobs of it. Read the Constitution--a -system put together artificially by expert political thinkers, -and good for two hundred years, at least! And they didn't have our -opportunities. For the first time, the world has to wait. Get the best -minds you can, Carmody. Give them twenty-five years to work it out. -They can come up with an answer. And then, when the world is awakened, -you can start with it, fresh, without upsetting any old order. Is that -your answer?" - -"Most of it." There was a sudden light in his old eyes. "Yes, the sleep -does make the chance possible. But how are you going to get the experts -and assemble them?" - -I pointed to Zorchi. "Hermes, the messenger of the gods. He's a jet -pilot who can get all over the world. And he can move outside, without -needing to worry about radiation." - -"So?" Zorchi snorted again. "So, I am now your messenger, Weels! Do you -think I would trouble myself so much for all of you, Weels?" - -I grinned at him. "You defiantly speak of being a man. That makes you -part of the human race. I'm simply taking you at your word." - -"So?" he repeated, his face wooden. "Such a messenger would have much -power, Weels. Suppose I choose to be Zorchi the ruler?" - -"Not while Zorchi the man is also Zorchi the freak," I said with -deliberate cruelty. "Go look at yourself." - -And suddenly he smiled, his lips drawing back from his teeth. "Weels, -for the first time you are honest. And for that as well as that I _am_ -a man, I will be Zorchi the messenger. But first, should we not decide -on a plan of action? Or do we first rule and then conquer?" - -"We wait first," I told him. - -On the wall, the radiation indicator clicked steadily, its needle -moving further into the red. - - -XVIII - -The second day, the television went off the air with the final curt -announcement that anyone not inside the clinics at noon would be left -outside permanently. Then the set went dead, leaving only the clucking -and beeping of our own radiation indicator. I'd thrown it out twice and -brought it back both times. - -Civilization had ended on the third day, though all the conveniences -in the villa went on smoothly, except for the meter reading that told -us nothing could be smooth. It was higher than the predictions I had -heard, though I still hoped that was only a sporadic local phenomenon -that would level out later. In the face of that, it was hard to -believe that even a few men would remain outside the clinics, though I -was counting on it. - -We waited another twenty-four hours, forcing ourselves to sit in the -villa, discussing plans, when our nerves were yelling for action. We -had only an estimate to go on. If we got there too soon, there would be -more awake than we could handle. Too late and we'd be radiation cases, -good for nothing but the vaults. - -It was a relief to leave at last, taking our weapons in the truck. -We were wearing the radiation suits, hoping they'd protect us, and -Zorchi spent the last two days devising pads and straps to cushion and -strengthen his developing legs. - -The world was dead. Cars had been abandoned in the middle of the road, -making driving difficult. - -The towns and villas were deserted, boarded up or simply abandoned. We -might have been the last men on Earth, and we felt that we were as we -headed for Anzio. This wasn't just a road, or Naples--or all of Italy. -It was the world. - -Then Rena pointed. Ahead, a boy was walking beside a dog, the animal's -left rear leg bound and split as if it had been broken. I started to -slow, then forced myself to drive on. As we passed, I saw that the boy -was about fourteen, and his face was dirty and tear-streaked. He shook -one fist at us, and came trudging on. - -"If we win, we'll have the door open when he gets there," Rena said. -"For him and his dog! If not, it won't matter how long it takes him. -You couldn't stop, Tom." - -It didn't make me feel any better. But now dusk was falling, and we -slowed, waiting until it was dark to park quietly near the garage. In -front of the entrance, I could see a small ring of fires, and by their -light a few figures moving about. They were madmen, of course--and yet, -probably less mad than others who must be prowling through the towns, -looting for things they could never use. - -It seemed incredible that any one could be outside, but the -psychologists had apparently been right. These were determined men, -willing to wait for the forlorn chance that some miracle might give -them a futile, even more forlorn chance to try battering down the great -doors. Maybe somewhere in the world, such a group might succeed. But -not here. As I watched, there was a crackle of automatic gunfire from -the entrance. The guards were awake, all right, and not taking chances -on any poor devil getting too close. - - * * * * * - -There were no guards in the vault garage. We were prepared in case -someone might be stationed inside the private entrance, as much -prepared as we could be; since Carmody had been listed as still living, -an ordinary guard who recognized him would probably let us in first and -then try to report--giving us time to handle him. But we were lucky. -The door opened to Carmody's top-secret combination. - -"We designed such combinations into a few doors in case of internal -revolution locally while no Underwriters were around. We never -considered having an Underwriter lead a revolution from outside," he -whispered to us. - -The underground passage was deserted, and this time Carmody led through -another corridor, to a stairs that seemed to wind up forever. Zorchi -groaned, then caught himself. - -"It leads to the main reception room," Carmody said. - -With the men outside, most of the guards who still remained awake might -be there. But we had to chance it. We stopped when we reached the top, -catching our breath while Zorchi sank to the floor, writhing silently. - -Then Rena threw back the door, Zorchi's rifle poked through, and I -was leaping for the main door controls, hoping the memory I had was -accurate. I was nearly to them when the two guards standing beside -them turned. - -They yelled, just as my rifle spat. At that range, I couldn't miss. And -behind, I heard Zorchi's gun spit. The second guard slumped sickly to -the floor, holding his stomach. I grabbed for the controls, while other -yells sounded, and feet began pounding toward me. - -There was no time to look back. The doors were slowly moving apart and -Carmody was beside me, smashing a maul from the storeroom onto the -electronic controls of the atomic cannon. I twisted between the opening -doors. - -"We've seized the vaults," I shouted. "We need help. Any man who joins -us will be saved!" - -I couldn't wait to watch, but I heard a hoarse, answering shout, and -the sound of feet. - -Carmody's maul had ruined the door controls. But the other guards were -nearly on us. I saw two more sprawled on the floor. Zorchi hadn't -missed. Then Carmody's fingers had found another of the private doors -that looked like simple panels here. Rena and Carmody were through, and -I yanked Zorchi after me, just as a bullet whined over his head. Behind -us, I heard uncontrolled yelling as men from outside began pouring in. - -It was our only hope. They had to take care of the guards, who were -still probably shocked at finding us _inside_. We headed for the -private quarters where Defoe would be, praying that there would be only -a few there. - - * * * * * - -This passage was useless to us, though. It led from office to office -for the doctors who superintended here. We came out into an office, -watching our chance for the hall we had to take. I could see the men -who had been outside in action now. A few had guns of some kind, but -the clubs in the hands of the others were just as deadly in such a -desperation attack; men who had seen themselves already dead weren't -afraid of chances. About a score of the expediter guards were trying to -hold off at least twice their number. - -Then the hall seemed clear and we leaped into it. Suddenly gongs began -ringing everywhere. Some guard had finally reached or remembered the -alarm system. Carmody cursed, and tried to move faster. - -The small private vault for the executives lay through the -administration quarters and down several levels, before it was entered -through a short passageway. Carmody had mapped it for me often enough. -But he knew it by physical memory, which was better than my training. -He'd also taught me the combination, but I left the door to his -practiced fingers when we came to it. - -The elevator wasn't up. We couldn't wait. We raced down the stairs that -circled it. Here Carmody's age told against him, and he fell behind. -Rena and I were going down neck and neck with Zorchi throwing himself -along with us. He had dropped his rifle and picked up a sub-machine gun -from one of the fallen guards, and he clung to it now, using only one -hand on the rail. - -It was a reflection on a gun-barrel that saved us. The picked -expediters were hidden in the dark mouth of the passageway, waiting -for us to turn the stairs. But I caught a gleam of metal, and threw up -my gun. Instantly, Zorchi was beside me, the sub-machine spitting as -quickly as I could fire the first shot. "Aim for the wall. Ricochet!" - -The ambushers had counted too much on surprise. They weren't ready to -have the tables turned, nor for the trick Zorchi had suggested. Here we -couldn't fire directly, but the bouncing shots worked almost as well. -There were screams of men being hit, and the crazed pandemonium of -others suddenly afraid. - -Shots came toward us, but the wall that protected them--or was supposed -to--ruined their shooting. - -Zorchi abruptly dropped, landing with a thud on his side. I grunted -sickly, thinking he was hit. - -Then I saw the sub-machine gun point squarely into the passageway. -It began spitting out death. By the time we could reach him, the -expediters were dead or dying. There had been seven of them. - -Zorchi staggered into the passage, through the bodies, crying -something. I jumped after him, blinking my eyes to make out what he had -seen. Then I caught sight of a door at the back being silently closed. -It was a thick, massive slab, like the door to a bank vault. - -Zorchi made a final leap that brought a sob of anguish as he landed on -his weak legs, but his gun barrel slapped into the slit of opening. The -door ground against it, strained and stopped. Zorchi pulled the trigger -briefly. - - * * * * * - -For a second, then, there was silence. A second later, Defoe's voice -came out through the thin slit. "You win. Dr. Lawton and I are alone -and unarmed. We're coming out." - -The door began opening again, somewhat jerkily this time. I watched it, -expecting a trick, but there was none. - -Inside the vault, the first room was obviously for guards and for the -control of the equipment needed to wash all contamination out of the -air and to provide the place with security for a century, even if all -the rest of the Earth turned into a radioactive hell. - -Lawton was slumped beside the controls, his head cradled in his arms. -But at the sight of us, he stood up groggily, his mouth open, and shock -on his face. - -Defoe's eyes widened a trifle, but he stood quietly, and the bleak -smile never faltered. "Congratulations, Thomas," he said. "My one fault -again--I underrated the opposition. I wasn't expecting miracles. Hello, -Millen. Fancy meeting you here." - -"Search the place," I ordered. - -Carmody went past the two without looking at them, with Rena close -behind. A minute later, I heard a triumphant shout. They came back with -a cringing man who seemed totally unlike the genial Sam Gogarty who had -first introduced me to fine food and to Rena. His eyes were on Carmody, -and his skin was gray white. He started to babble incoherently. - -Carmody grinned at him. "You've got things twisted, Gogarty. Tom -Wills is in charge of this affair." He turned toward one of the -smaller offices. "As I remember it, there should be a transmitting -setup in here. I want to make sure it works. If it does, some of the -Underwriters are going to get a surprise, unless they're suspended." - -Gogarty watched him go, and then sank slowly to a chair, shaking his -head as he looked up at me. His lips twisted into bitter resignation. -"You wouldn't understand, Tom. All my life, worked for things. Class-C, -digging in a mine, eating Class-D, getting no fun, so I could buy -Class-B employment. Then Class-A. Not many can do it, but I sweated it -out. Thirty years living like a dog and killing myself with work and -study. Not even a real woman until I met Susan, and she went to Defoe. -But I wanted it easier for the young men. I wanted everybody to have -a good life. No harm to anyone. Pull together, and forget the tough -times. Then you had to come and blow the roof off...." - - * * * * * - -I felt sick. It was probably all true, and few men could make it. But -if that's what it took to advance under the Company rules, it was -justification enough for our fight. "You'll be all right, Sam," I told -him. "You'll go to sleep with the others. And when you wake up, you may -have to work like hell again, but it'll be to rebuild the Earth, not to -ruin it. Maybe there'll even be a chance with Susan again." - -Defoe laughed sardonically. "Very nice, Thomas. And I suppose you mean -it. What's in the future for me?" - -"Suspension until the new government gets organized and can decide your -case. I'd like to vote now for permanent suspension." - -His face lost some of his amusement. Then he shrugged. "All right, I -suppose I knew that. But now will you satisfy my curiosity? Just how -_did_ you work the business with Bay 100?" - -"What happened to Slovetski?" I asked. I couldn't be sure about some of -my suspicions over Benedetto's death, but I couldn't take chances that -the man might still be loose somewhere, or else hiding out here until -we were off guard. - -He shook his head. "I can answer, but I'm waiting for a better offer." - -"Sam?" I asked. - -Gogarty nodded slowly. "All right, Tom. I guess you're the boss now. -And I think I'm even glad of it. I always liked you. I'll answer about -Slovetski." - -Defoe snarled and swung, then saw my rifle coming up, and straightened -again. "You win once more, Thomas. Your great international rebel -cooperated with us very nicely after we caught him. We arranged for -him to receive all calls to his most secret hideout right here in this -room. It netted us his fellow conspirators--including your father, -Miss dell'Angela!" - -She gasped faintly, but her head came up at once. "Nikolas was no -traitor. You're lying!" - -"Why should I lie?" he asked. "With the right use of certain drugs, any -man can become a traitor. And Dr. Lawton is an expert on drugs." - -"Where is he?" I asked. - -He shrugged. "How should I know? He wanted a radioactive world, so I -let him enjoy it. We put him outside just before we closed the doors -permanently." - -Gogarty nodded confirmation. I turned it over. He might even have -been one of the men waiting outside. But it wouldn't matter. Without -his organization and with a world where life outside was impossible, -Slovetski's power was finished. - -I turned to Zorchi. "The men who broke in will be going crazy soon," -I told him. "While Rena finds the paging system and reassures them -they'll all be treated in the reception room, how about getting Lawton -to locate and revive a couple of the doctors you know and trust?" - - * * * * * - -Rena came back from the paging system, and Zorchi prodded Lawton with -the gun, heading him toward the files that would show the location of -the doctors. Gogarty stood up doubtfully, but I shook my head. Zorchi -was able to handle a man of Lawton's type, even without full use of his -legs, and I couldn't trust Gogarty yet. - -"You can give me a hand with Defoe, Sam," I suggested. "We'd better -strap him down first." - -Gogarty nodded, and then suddenly let out a shocked cry, and was -cringing back! - -In the split second when both Rena and I had looked away, Defoe had -whipped out an automatic and was now covering us, his teeth exposed in -a taut smile. "Never underestimate an opponent, Thomas," he said. "And -never believe what he says. You should have searched me, you know." - -The gun was centered on Rena and he waited, as if expecting me to make -some move. All I could do was stand there, cursing myself. I'd thought -of everything--except the obvious! - -Defoe backed toward the door and slipped around it, drawing its heavy -weight slowly shut until only a crack showed. Then he laughed. "Give my -love to Millen," he said, and laughed softly. - -I jumped for the door, but his feet were already moving out of the -passage. The door began opening again, but I knew it was too late. -Then, it was open. And amazingly, Defoe stood not ten feet away. - -At the other end of the passage, a ragged bloody figure was standing, -swaying slowly from side to side, holding a rifle. I took a second look -to recognize Nikolas Slovetski. He was moving slowly toward Defoe. And -now Defoe jerked back and began frantically digging for the automatic -he must have pocketed. - -Slovetski leaped, tossing the gun aside in a way that indicated it must -have been empty. A bullet from Defoe's automatic caught his shoulder -in mid-leap, but it couldn't stop him. He crashed squarely on Defoe, -swinging a knife as the other went down. It missed, ringing against the -hard floor. - -I'd come unfrozen by then. I kicked the knife aside and grabbed the gun -from Defoe's hands. Slovetski lay limp on him, and I rolled the smaller -man aside. - - * * * * * - -Defoe was out cold from the blow of his head hitting the floor. Gogarty -had come out behind me and now began binding him up. He opened his eyes -slowly, blinked, and tried to grin as he stared at the bonds. He swung -his head to the figure on the floor beside him. "Shall we go quietly, -Nikolas?" he asked, as Gogarty picked him up and carried him back to -the private vault. - -But his sarcasm was wasted on Slovetski. The man must have been dying -as he stumbled and groped his way toward the place where he knew Defoe -must be. And the bullet in the shoulder had finished him. Rena bent -over him, a faint sob on her lips. - -Surprisingly, he fought his way back to consciousness, staring up at -her. "Rena," he said weakly. "Benedetto! I loved him. I--" Then his -head rolled toward me. "At least, I lived to die in a revolution, -Thomas. Dirty business, revolution. When in the course of human events, -it becomes--" - -He died before he could finish. I went looking for Lawton, to make sure -Defoe was suspended at once. He'd be the last political suspendee, if -I had anything to do with it, but there would be a certain pleasure in -watching Lawton do the job. - - -XIX - -The doors of the reception hall were closed again, but there was no -lock now. One of the two doctors whom Zorchi had trusted was there -now, waiting for the stragglers who came in slowly as a result of our -broadcast. We couldn't reach them all, of course, but some could be -saved. The men who had fought with us were treated and suspended. Even -the boy and his dog had finally reached us and been put away. - -In the main room of the executive vault, Carmody was waiting for -Rena and me as we came in, haggard from lack of sleep, but somehow -younger-looking than he had been since we had first revived him. - -He stood up, managing a tired smile. "The first work's done, Tom," he -said. "It wasn't too hard, once they learned Defoe was suspended; a lot -of the others were afraid of him, I guess. So far, I've only contacted -the ones I can trust, but it's a beginning. I've gotten tapes of their -delegation of authority to you as acting assistant Chief Underwriter. I -guess the factor that influenced them most was your willingness to give -up all hopes of suspension for the emergency. And having Zorchi was a -help, too--one man like him is worth an army now. I'll introduce you -tomorrow." - -He stumbled out, heading toward the sleeping quarters. - -Well, I had the chance I'd wanted. And I had his promise to put off -suspension until things were running properly. With time to develop a -small staff, and with a chance to begin the work of locating the men to -study the problems that had to be solved, I couldn't ask for much more. - -Zorchi grinned at me. "Emperor Weels!" he mocked. - -I grinned back. "If you ever say that seriously, Luigi, I want you to -say it with a bullet through my brain. I've seen enough cases of power -corrupting." - - * * * * * - -For a second, he studied me. "If that day should come, then there shall -be the bullet. But now, even I must sleep," he said. - -Then he glanced at Rena. "I have left orders that a priest should be -wakened." - -She colored faintly. - -"You'll be best man, I suppose?" I asked. - -This time, even his beard couldn't conceal his amusement. "Is Zorchi -not always the best man?" he asked as he left us alone. - -I stared at the vault that would be my home for the next twenty-five -or fifty years--until I was an old man, and the rest of the world was -ready to be awakened. "It's a lousy place to spend a honeymoon," I told -Rena. - -She leaned against me. "But perhaps a good place to bring up children," -she said. "A place to teach them that their children will have a good -world, Tom. That's all a woman ever wants, I guess." - -I drew her to me. It was a good way to think of the future, whatever -happened. And it _would_ be a better world, where the virtues of the -Company could be used. - -Probably it wouldn't be perfect. - -Even the best form of government all the experts could devise couldn't -offer a permanent solution. But it could give men a chance to fight -their way to a still better world. - - * * * * * - -[Transcriber's Note: There are two section V headings as per the -orginal publication.] - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Preferred Risk, by Edson McCann - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PREFERRED RISK *** - -***** This file should be named 51814-8.txt or 51814-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/8/1/51814/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan 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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Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/51814-8.zip b/old/51814-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index b6fc913..0000000 --- a/old/51814-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51814-h.zip b/old/51814-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c754644..0000000 --- a/old/51814-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51814-h/51814-h.htm b/old/51814-h/51814-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 6199e05..0000000 --- a/old/51814-h/51814-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8039 +0,0 @@ -<!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=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Preferred Risk, by Edson Mccann. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } -.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } -.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } -.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } - -.blockquot { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Preferred Risk, by Edson McCann - -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/license - - -Title: Preferred Risk - -Author: Edson McCann - -Release Date: April 21, 2016 [EBook #51814] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PREFERRED RISK *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="401" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover2.jpg" width="405" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover3.jpg" width="395" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover4.jpg" width="391" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>PREFERRED RISK</h1> - -<p>By EDSON McCANN</p> - -<p>Illustrated by KOSSIN</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Galaxy Science Fiction June, July, August, September 1955.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3"><i>Winner of the $6,500 Galaxy-Simon & Schuster novel contest,<br /> -this taut suspense story asks the challenging question: how<br /> -dangerous would it be to live in a rigidly risk-free world?</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>The liner from Port Lyautey was comfortable and slick, but I was -leaning forward in my seat as we came in over Naples. I had been on -edge all the way across the Atlantic. Now as the steward came through -the compartments to pick up our Blue Plate ration coupons for the -trip, I couldn't help feeling annoyed that I hadn't eaten the food -they represented. For the Company wanted everyone to get the fullest -possible benefit out of his policies—not only the food policies, but -Blue Blanket, Blue Bolt and all the others.</p> - -<p>We <i>whooshed</i> in to a landing at Carmody Field, just outside of -Naples. My baggage was checked through, so I didn't expect to have any -difficulty clearing past the truce-team Customs inspectors. It was only -a matter of turning over my baggage checks, and boarding the <i>rapido</i> -that would take me into Naples.</p> - -<p>But my luck was low. The man before me was a fussbudget who insisted on -carrying his own bags, and I had to stand behind him a quarter of an -hour, while the truce-teams geigered his socks and pajamas.</p> - -<p>While I fidgeted, though, I noticed that the Customs shed had, high -up on one wall, a heroic-sized bust of Millen Carmody himself. Just -standing there, under that benevolent smile, made me feel better. I -even managed to nod politely to the traveler ahead of me as he finally -got through the gate and let me step up to the uniformed Company -expediter who checked my baggage tickets.</p> - -<p>And the expediter gave me an unexpected thrill. He leafed through -my papers, then stepped back and gave me a sharp military salute. -"Proceed, Adjuster Wills," he said, returning my travel orders. It -hadn't been like that at the transfer point at Port Lyautey—not even -back at the Home Office in New York. But here we were in Naples, and -the little war was not yet forgotten; we were under Company law, and I -was an officer of the Company.</p> - -<p>It was all I needed to restore my tranquility. But it didn't last.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The <i>rapido</i> took us through lovely Italian countryside, but it was in -no hurry to do it. We were late getting into the city itself, and I -found myself almost trotting out of the little train and up into the -main waiting room where my driver would be standing at the Company desk.</p> - -<p>I couldn't really blame the Neapolitans for the delay—it wasn't their -fault that the Sicilians had atomized the main passenger field at -Capodichino during the war, and the <i>rapido</i> wasn't geared to handling -that volume of traffic from Carmody Field. But Mr. Gogarty would be -waiting for me, and it wasn't my business to keep a Regional Director -waiting.</p> - -<p>I got as far as the exit to the train shed. There was a sudden high, -shrill blast of whistles and a scurrying and, out of the confusion of -persons milling about, there suddenly emerged order.</p> - -<p>At every doorway stood three uniformed Company expediters; squads of -expediters formed almost before my eyes all over the train shed; -single expediters appeared and took up guard positions at every -stairwell and platform head. It was a triumph of organization; in no -more than ten seconds, a confused crowd was brought under instant -control.</p> - -<p>But why?</p> - -<p>There was a babble of surprised sounds from the hurrying crowds; they -were as astonished as I. It was reasonable enough that the Company's -expediter command should conduct this sort of surprise raid from time -to time, of course. The Company owed it to its policyholders; by -insuring them against the hazards of war under the Blue Bolt complex -of plans, it had taken on the responsibility of preventing war when it -could. And ordinarily it could, easily enough.</p> - -<p>How could men fight a war without weapons—and how could they buy -weapons, particularly atomic weapons, when the Company owned all the -sources and sold only to whom it pleased, when it pleased, as it -pleased? There were still occasional outbreaks—witness the recent -strife between Sicily and Naples itself—but the principle remained.... -Anyway, surprise raids were well within the Company's rights.</p> - -<p>I was mystified, though—I could not imagine what they were looking -for here in the Naples railroad terminal; with geigering at Carmody -Field and every other entry point to the Principality of Naples, they -should have caught every fissionable atom coming in, and it simply -did not seem reasonable that anyone in the principality itself could -produce nuclear fuel to make a bomb.</p> - -<p>Unless they were not looking for bombs, but for people who might want -to use them. But that didn't tie in with what I had been taught as a -cadet at the Home Office.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There was a crackle and an unrecognizable roar from the station's -public-address system. Then the crowd noises died down as people -strained to listen, and I began to understand the words: "... -Where you are in an orderly fashion until this investigation is -concluded. You will not be delayed more than a few minutes. Do not, -repeat, <i>do not</i> attempt to leave until this man has been captured. -Attention! Attention! All persons in this area! Under Company law, -you are ordered to stop all activities and stand still at once. An -investigation is being carried out in this building. All persons will -stand still and remain where you are in an orderly fashion until this -investigation...."</p> - -<p>The mounting babble drowned the speaker out again, but I had heard -enough.</p> - -<p>I suppose I was wrong, but I had been taught that my duty was to serve -the world, by serving the Company, in all ways at all times. I walked -briskly toward the nearest squad of expediters, who were already -breaking up into detachments and moving about among the halted knots of -civilians, peering at faces, asking questions.</p> - -<p>I didn't quite make it; I hadn't gone more than five yards when a heavy -hand fell on my shoulder, and a harsh voice snarled in the Neapolitan -dialect, "Halt, you! Didn't you hear the orders?"</p> - -<p>I spun, staggering slightly, to face an armed expediter-officer. I -stood at attention and said crisply, "Sorry. I'm Thomas Wills, Claims -Adjuster. I thought I might be able to help."</p> - -<p>The officer stared at me for a moment. His cheeks moved; I had the -impression that, under other circumstances, he would have spat on the -floor at my feet. "Papers!" he ordered.</p> - -<p>I passed him my travel orders. He looked them over briefly, then -returned them. Like the Customs expediter at Carmody Field, he gave -me a snap salute, militarily precise and, in a way I could not quite -define, contemptuous. "You should just stay here, Adjuster Wills," he -advised—in a tone that made it a command. "This will be over in a -moment."</p> - -<p>He was gone, back to his post. I stood for a moment, but it was easier -to listen to his orders than to obey them; the Neapolitan crowd didn't -seem to take too well to discipline, and though there was no overt -resistance to the search squads, there was a sort of Brownian movement -of individuals in the throng that kept edging me back and away from -where I had been standing. It made me a little uncomfortable; I was -standing close to the edge of a platform, and a large poster announced -that the Milan Express was due to arrive on that track at any moment. -In fact, I could hear the thin, effeminate whistle of its Diesel -locomotive just beyond the end of the platform. I tried to inch my -way from the edge. I dodged around an electric baggage-cart, and trod -heavily on someone's foot.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Excuse me," I said quickly, looking at the man. He glared back at -me. There was a bright spark in his eyes; I could tell little about -his expression because, oddly enough in that country of clean-shaven -faces, he wore a heavy, ragged, clipped beard. He wore the uniform of -a porter. He mumbled something I could not quite catch, and moved as if -to push me away. I suppose I put up my arm. My papers, with the Company -seal bright gold upon them, were still in my hand, and the bearded man -caught sight of them.</p> - -<p>If there had been anger in his eyes before, there was now raging fury. -He shrilled, "Beast! Animal!" He thrust at me blindly and leaped past -me, out of the shelter of the bags; he went spinning furiously through -the crowd, men and women ricocheting off him.</p> - -<p>I heard a harsh bellow: "There he goes! Zorchi! Zorchi!" And I could -hear the bearded man shrieking curses as he hurtled up the platform, up -toward the oncoming train, over to the edge—and off the platform to -the tracks!</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus1.jpg" width="600" height="415" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>He fell less than a yard in front of the slim nose of the Diesel. I -don't suppose the speed of the train was even five miles an hour, but -the engineer hadn't a chance in the world to stop.</p> - -<p>While I watched, struck motionless, along with all the others on that -platform, the engine passed over the huddled form. The brakes were -shrieking, but it was much, much too late. Even in that moment I -thought he would not be killed—not instantly, at least, unless he -died of loss of blood. The trunk of his body was safely in the well -between the tracks. But his legs were sprawled over a rail. And the -slow click-click of the wheels didn't stop until his uniformed body was -far out of sight.</p> - -<p>It was shocking, sickening, unbelievable.</p> - -<p>And it didn't stop there. A strange thing happened. When the man had -dived into the path of the train, there was a sudden fearful hush; it -had happened too suddenly for anyone to cry out. And when the hush -ended, there was only a momentary, instinctive gasp of horror. Then -there was a quick, astonished babble of voices—and then cheers! And -applause, and ringing bravos!</p> - -<p>I didn't understand.</p> - -<p>The man had thrown himself deliberately under the train. I was sure of -it.</p> - -<p>Was that something to cheer?</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I finally made it to where the Regional Director was waiting for -me—nearly an hour late.</p> - -<p>It was at a hotel overlooking the Bay, and the sight was thrilling -enough to put the unpleasant accident I had seen out of my mind for a -moment. There was nothing so beautiful in all the world, I thought, as -the Bay of Naples at sunset. It was not only my own opinion; I had -seen it described many times in the travel folders I had pored over, -while my wife indulgently looked over my shoulder, back in those remote -days of marriage. "La prima vista del mundo," the folders had called -it—the most beautiful sight of the world. They had said: "See Naples, -and die."</p> - -<p>I hadn't known, of course, that Marianna would die first....</p> - -<p>But that was all behind me. After Marianna's death, a lot of things -had happened, all in a short time, and some of them very bad. But good -or bad, I had laid down a law for myself: I would not dwell on them. I -had started on a new life, and I was going to put the past in a locked -compartment in my mind. I had to!</p> - -<p>I was no longer an ordinary civilian, scraping together his Blue -Heaven premiums for the sake of a roof over his head, budgeting his -food policies, carrying on his humdrum little job. I was a servant -of the human race and a member of the last surviving group of -gentleman-adventurers in all the world: I was an Insurance Claims -Adjuster for the Company!</p> - -<p>All the same, I couldn't quite forget some of the bad things that had -happened, as I walked into the hotel dining room to meet the Regional -Director.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Regional Director Gogarty was a huge, pale balloon of a man. He -was waiting for me at a table set for four. As he greeted me, his -expression was sour. "Glad to meet you, Wills. Bad business, this. Bad -business. He got away with it again."</p> - -<p>I coughed. "Sir?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"Zorchi!" he snapped. And I remembered the name I had heard on the -platform. The mad-man! Zorchi, Luigi Zorchi, the human jellyfish. -"Wills, do you know that that man has just cashed in on his <i>twelfth</i> -disability policy? And not a thing we could do to stop him! You were -there. You saw it, didn't you?"</p> - -<p>"Well, yes, but—"</p> - -<p>"Thought so. The twelfth! And your driver said on the phone it was both -legs this time. Both legs—and on a common carrier. Double indemnity!" -He shook his enormous head. "And with a whole corps of expediters -standing by to stop him!"</p> - -<p>I said with some difficulty, "Sir, do you mean that the man I saw run -over by the train was—"</p> - -<p>"Luigi Zorchi. That's who he was. Ever hear of him, Wills?"</p> - -<p>"Can't say I have."</p> - -<p>Gogarty nodded his balloon-like head. "The Company has kept it out of -the papers, of course, but you can't keep anything from being gossiped -about around here. This Zorchi is practically a national hero in -Naples. He's damn near a millionaire by now, I guess, and every lira -of it has come right out of the Company's indemnity funds. And do you -think we can do anything about it? Not a thing! Not even when we're -tipped off ahead of time—when, what, and where!</p> - -<p>"He just laughs at us. I know for a fact," Gogarty said bitterly, "that -Zorchi knew we found out he was going to dive in front of that express -tonight. He was just daring us to stop him. We should have! We should -have figured he might disguise himself as a porter. We should—"</p> - -<p>I interrupted, "Mr. Gogarty, are you trying to tell me this man -<i>deliberately</i> maims himself for the accident insurance?" Gogarty -nodded sourly. "Good heavens," I cried, "that's disloyal!"</p> - -<p>Gogarty laughed sharply and brought me up standing. There was a note to -the way he laughed that I didn't like; for a moment there, I thought he -was thinking of my own little—well, indiscretion. But he said only, -"It's expensive, too." I suppose he meant nothing by it. But I was -sensitive on the subject.</p> - -<p>Before I could ask him any more questions, the massive face smoothed -out in a smile. He rose ponderously, greeting someone. "Here they are, -Wills," he said jovially. "The girls!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The headwaiter was conducting two young ladies toward us. I remembered -my manners and stood up, but I confess I was surprised. I had heard -that discipline in the field wasn't the same as at the Home Office, but -after all—Gogarty was a Regional Director!</p> - -<p>It was a little informal of him to arrange our first meeting at dinner, -in the first place. But to make a social occasion of it was—in the -straitlaced terms of the Home Office where I had been trained—almost -unthinkable.</p> - -<p>And it was apparent that the girls were mere decoration. I had a -hundred eager questions to ask Gogarty—about this mad Zorchi, about my -duties, about Company policy here in the principality of Naples—but it -would be far out of line to bring up Company matters with these females -present. I was not pleased, but I managed to be civil.</p> - -<p>The girls were decorative enough, I had to admit.</p> - -<p>Gogarty said expansively, all trace of ill humor gone, "This is -Signorina dell'Angela and Miss Susan Manchester. Rena and Susan, this -is Tom Wills."</p> - -<p>I said stiffly, "Delighted."</p> - -<p>Susan was the blonde one, a small plump girl with the bubbly smile of a -professional model. She greeted Gogarty affectionately. The other was -dark and lovely, but with a constant shadow, almost glowering, in her -eyes.</p> - -<p>So we had a few drinks. Then we had a few more. Then the captain -appeared with a broad menu, and I found myself in an embarrassing -position. For Gogarty waved the menu aside with a gesture of mock -disgust. "Save it for the peasants," he ordered. "We don't want that -Blue Plate slop. We'll start with those little baby shrimps like I had -last night, and then an antipasto and after that—"</p> - -<p>I broke in apologetically, "Mr. Gogarty, I have only a Class-B policy."</p> - -<p>Gogarty blinked at me. "What?"</p> - -<p>I cleared my throat. "I have only Class-B coverage on my Blue Plate -policy," I repeated. "I, uh, I never went in much for such—"</p> - -<p>He looked at me incredulously. "Boy," he said, "this is on the Company. -Now relax and let me order. Blue Plate coverage is for the peasants; I -eat like a human being."</p> - -<p>It shook me a little. Here was a Regional Director talking about the -rations supplied under the Company's Blue Plate coverage as "slop." Oh, -I wasn't naive enough to think that no one talked that way. There were -a certain number of malcontents anywhere. I'd heard that kind of talk, -and even worse, once in a while from the Class-D near-uninsurables, the -soreheads with a grudge against the world who blamed all their troubles -on the Company and bleated about the "good old days." Mostly they did -their bleating when it was premium time, I'd noticed.</p> - -<p>But I certainly never expected it from Gogarty.</p> - -<p>Still—it was his party. And he seemed like a pretty nice guy. I had -to allow him the defects of his virtues, I decided. If he was less -reverent to the Company than he should have been, at least by the same -token he was friendly and democratic. He had at least twenty years -seniority on me, and back at the Home Office a mere Claims Adjuster -wouldn't have been at the same table with a Regional Director.</p> - -<p>And here he was feeding me better than I had ever eaten in my life, -talking as though we were equals, even (I reminded myself) seeing to it -that we had the young ladies to keep us company.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We were hours at dinner, hours and endless glasses of wine, and we -talked continually. But the conversation never came close to official -business.</p> - -<p>The girl Rena was comfortable to be with, I found. There was that -deep, eternal sadness in her eyes, and every once in a while I came -up against it in the middle of a laugh; but she was soft-voiced and -pleasant, and undeniably lovely. Marianna had been prettier, I thought, -but Marianna's voice was harsh Midwest while Rena's—</p> - -<p>I stopped myself.</p> - -<p>When we were on our after-dinner liqueurs, Rena excused herself -for a moment and, after a few minutes, I spotted her standing by a -satin-draped window, looking wistfully out over a balcony. Gogarty -winked.</p> - -<p>I got up and, a little unsteadily, went over to her. "Shall we look at -this more closely?" I asked her. She smiled and we stepped outside.</p> - -<p>Again I was looking down on the Bay of Naples—a scene painted in -moonlight this time, instead of the orange hues of sunset. It was warm, -but the Moon was frosty white in the sky. Even its muddled reflection -in the slagged waters was grayish white, not yellow. There was a pale -orange halo over the crater of Mount Vesuvius, to our left; and far -down the coast a bluish phosphorescence, over the horizon, marked -Pompeii. "Beautiful," I said.</p> - -<p>She looked at me strangely. All she said was, "Let's go back inside."</p> - -<p>Gogarty greeted us. "Looking at the debris?" he demanded jovially. "Not -much to see at night. Cheer up, Tom. You'll see all the damage you want -to see over the next few days."</p> - -<p>I said, "I hope so, sir."</p> - -<p>Gogarty shook his head reprovingly. "Not 'sir,' Tom. Save that for the -office. Call me Sam." He beamed. "You want to know what it was like -here during the war? You can ask the girls. They were here all through. -Especially Susan—she was with the Company's branch here, even before I -took over. Right, Susan?"</p> - -<p>"Right, Sam," she said obediently.</p> - -<p>Gogarty nodded. "Not that Rena missed much either, but she was out of -town when the Sicilians came over. Weren't you?" he demanded, curiously -intent. Rena nodded silently. "Naples sure took a pasting," Gogarty -went on. "It was pretty tough for a while. Did you know that the -Sicilians actually made a landing right down the coast at Pompeii?"</p> - -<p>"I saw the radioactivity," I said.</p> - -<p>"That's right. They got clobbered, all right. Soon's the barges were -in, the Neapolitans let them have it. But it cost them. The Company -only allowed them five A-bombs each, and they had to use two more -to knock out Palermo. And—well, they don't like to tell this on -themselves, but one of the others was a dud. Probably the only dud -A-bomb in history, I guess."</p> - -<p>He grinned at Rena. Astonishingly, Rena smiled back.</p> - -<p>She was, I thought, a girl of many astonishing moments; I had not -thought that she would be amused at Gogarty's heavy-handed needling.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Gogarty went on and on. I was interested enough—I had followed the -Naples-Sicily war in the papers and, of course, I'd been briefed at -the Home Office before coming over—but the girls seemed to find it -pretty dull. By the time Gogarty finished telling me about the Sicilian -attempt to trigger Mt. Vesuvius by dropping an A-bomb into its crater, -Rena was frankly bored and even Susan was yawning behind her palm.</p> - -<p>We finally wound up under the marquee of the restaurant. Gogarty and -the blonde politely said good night, and disappeared into a cab. It -was clearly up to me to take Rena home.</p> - -<p>I hailed a cab. When I made up my new insurance schedule at the Home -Office before coming over, I splurged heavily on transportation -coverage. Perhaps I was making up for the luxuries of travel that -life with Marianna hadn't allowed me. Anyway, I'd taken out Class AA -policies. And as the cab driver clipped my coupons he was extremely -polite.</p> - -<p>Rena lived a long way from the hotel. I tried to make small talk, -but she seemed to have something on her mind. I was in the middle of -telling her about the terrible "accident" I had seen that evening at -the station—suitably censored, of course—when I observed she was -staring out the window.</p> - -<p>She hadn't been paying attention while I talked, but she noticed the -silence when I stopped. She gave a little shake of the head and looked -at me. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wills," she said. "I am being rude."</p> - -<p>"Not at all," I said gallantly.</p> - -<p>"Yes." She nodded and smiled, but it was a thoughtful, almost a sad, -smile. "You are too polite, you gentlemen of the Company. Is that part -of your training?"</p> - -<p>"It's easy to be polite to you, Miss dell'Angela," I said by rote. -Yes, it was part of our training: <i>A Claims Adjuster is always -courteous</i>. But what I said was true enough, all the same. She was a -girl that I enjoyed being polite to.</p> - -<p>"No, truly," she persisted. "You are an important officer in the -Company, and you must have trained long for the post. What did they -teach you?"</p> - -<p>"Well—" I hesitated—"just the sort of thing you'd expect, I guess. A -little statistical mathematics—enough so we can understand what the -actuaries mean. Company policies, business methods, administration. -Then, naturally, we had a lot of morale sessions. A Claims Adjuster—" -I cleared my throat, feeling a little self-conscious—"a Claims -Adjuster is supposed to be like Caesar's wife, you know. He must always -set an example to his staff and to the public. I guess that sounds -pretty stuffy. I don't mean it to be. But there is a lot of emphasis on -tradition and honor and discipline."</p> - -<p>She asked, rather oddly, "And is there a course in loyalty?"</p> - -<p>"Why, I suppose you might say that. There are ceremonies, you know. -And it's a matter of cadet honor to put the Company ahead of personal -affairs."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"And do all Claims Adjusters live by this code?"</p> - -<p>For a moment I couldn't answer. It was like a blow in the face. I -turned sharply to look at her, but there was no expression on her face, -only a mild polite curiosity.</p> - -<p>I said with difficulty, "Miss dell'Angela, what are you getting at?"</p> - -<p>"Why, nothing!" Her face was as angelic as her name.</p> - -<p>"I don't know what you mean or what you may have heard about me, -Miss dell'Angela, but I can tell you this, if you are interested. -When my wife died, I went to pieces. I admit it. I said a lot of -things I shouldn't have, and some of them may have reflected against -the Company. I'm not trying to deny that but, you understand, I was -upset at the time. I'm not upset now." I took a deep breath. "To me, -the Company is the savior of humanity. I don't want to sound like a -fanatic, but I am loyal to the Company, to the extent of putting it -ahead of my personal affairs, to the extent of doing whatever job the -Company assigns to me. And, if necessary, to the extent of dying for it -if I have to. Is that clear?"</p> - -<p>Well, that was a conversation-stopper, of course. I hadn't meant to -get all wound up about it, but it hurt to find out that there had been -gossip. The dell'Angela girl merely said: "Quite clear."</p> - -<p>We rode in silence for a while. She was staring out the window again, -and I didn't especially want to talk just then. Maybe I was too -sensitive. But there was no doubt in my mind that the Company was the -white hope of the world, and I didn't like being branded a traitor -because of what I'd said after Marianna died. I was, in a way, paying -the penalty for it—it had been made pretty clear to me that I was on -probation. That was enough.</p> - -<p>As I said, she lived a long way from the Gran Reale. I had plenty of -time for my flare-up, and for brooding, and for getting over it.</p> - -<p>But we never did get around to much idle conversation on that little -trip. By the time I had simmered down, I began to have disturbing -thoughts. It suddenly occurred to me that I was a man, and she was a -girl, and we were riding in a cab.</p> - -<p>I don't know how else to say it. At one moment I was taking her home -from a dinner; and at the next, I was taking her home from a date. -Nothing had changed—except the way I looked at it.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>All of a sudden, I began to feel as though I were fourteen years old -again. It had been quite a long time since I had had the duty of -escorting a beautiful girl—and by then I realized this was a really -<i>beautiful</i> girl—home at the end of an evening. And I was faced with -the question that I had thought would never bother me again at least a -decade before. Should I kiss her good night?</p> - -<p>It was a problem, and I thought about it, feeling a little foolish but -rather happy about it. But all my thinking came to nothing. She decided -for me.</p> - -<p>The cab stopped in front of a white stucco wall. Like so many of the -better Italian homes, the wall enclosed a garden, and the house was in -the middle of the garden. It was an attractive enough place—Class A at -least, I thought—though it was hard to tell in the moonlight.</p> - -<p>I cleared my throat and sort of halfway leaned over to her.</p> - -<p>Then she turned and was looking up at me, and the moonlight glinted -brightly off what could only have been tears in her eyes.</p> - -<p>I stared.</p> - -<p>She didn't say a word. She shook her head briefly, opened the door and -was gone behind the gate.</p> - -<p>It was a puzzlement. Why had she been crying? What had I done?</p> - -<p>I reviewed my conduct all the way back to the hotel, but nothing much -came of it. Perhaps I had been brusque—but brusque enough to bring -tears? I couldn't believe it.</p> - -<p>Curious new life! I fell asleep with the pale moon shining in the -window, brooding about the life I was just beginning, and about the old -life behind me that was buried in the same grave with Marianna.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">II</p> - -<p>The Naples branch of the Company lay in the heart of the city. I took -a cab to a sort of dome-roofed thing called a <i>galleria</i>, and walked -under its skeletal steel ceiling to my new office. Once the <i>galleria</i> -had been roofed with glass, but the glass had powdered down from the -concussion of the Mt. Vesuvius bomb, or the Capodichino bomb, or one of -the other hammerblows the Sicilians had rained on the principality of -Naples in the recent unpleasantness.</p> - -<p>I entered the office and looked around. The blonde girl named Susan -appeared to double as the office receptionist. She nodded efficiently -and waved me to a fenced-off enclosure where Sam Gogarty sat, plump -and untroubled, at an enormous desk.</p> - -<p>I pushed open the swinging gate.</p> - -<p>Gogarty looked at me icily. "You're late," he said.</p> - -<p><i>He</i> had no hangover, it was clear. I said apologetically, "Sorry, -I'm—"</p> - -<p>"Never mind. Just don't let it happen again." It was clear that, in -the office, business was business; the fact that we had been drinking -together the night before would not condone liberties the morning -after. Gogarty said, "Your desk is over there, Wills. Better get -started."</p> - -<p>I felt considerably deflated as I sat down at my desk and stared -unhappily at the piles of blue and yellow manifolds before me.</p> - -<p>The Company had trained me well. I didn't need to be coached in order -to get through the work; it was all a matter of following established -techniques and precedents. I checked the coverage, reduced the claim to -tape-code, fed the tapes into a machine.</p> - -<p>If the claim was legitimate, the machine computed the amounts due and -issued a punch-card check. If there was anything wrong, the machine -flashed a red light and spat the faulty claim out into a hopper.</p> - -<p>And there were plenty of claims. Every adult in Naples, of course, -carried the conventional War-and-Disaster policy—the so-called Blue -Bolt coverage. Since few of them had actually been injured in the war, -the claims were small—mostly for cost of premiums on other policies, -under the disability clauses. (For if war prevented a policyholder from -meeting his Blue Plate premiums, for instance, the Company itself under -Blue Bolt would keep his policies paid—and the policyholder fed.)</p> - -<p>But there were some big claims, too. The Neapolitan government had -carried the conventional Blue Bolt policies and, though the policy -had been canceled by the Company before hostilities broke out—thus -relieving the Company of the necessity of paying damages to the -principality of Naples itself—still there were all the subsidiary -loss and damage claims of the Neapolitan government's bureaus and -departments, almost every one of them non-canceling.</p> - -<p>It amounted to billions and billions of lire. Just looking at the -amounts on some of the vouchers before me made my head swim. And the -same, of course, would be true in Sicily. Though that would naturally -be handled by the Sicilian office, not by us.</p> - -<p>However, the cost of this one brief, meager little war between Naples -and Sicily, with less than ten thousand casualties, lasting hardly more -than a week, must have set the Company's reserves back hundreds of -millions of dollars.</p> - -<p>And to think that some people didn't like the Company! Why, without it, -the whole peninsula of Italy would have been in financial ruin, the -solvent areas dragged down with the combatants!</p> - -<p>Naturally, the Regional Office was understaffed for this volume of -work—which is why they had flown in new Adjusters like myself.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I looked up from my desk, surprised. Susan was standing next to me, an -aspirin and a paper cup of water in her hand. "You look like you might -need this," she whispered. She winked and was gone.</p> - -<p>I swallowed it gratefully, although my hangover was almost gone. I was -finding in these dry papers all the romance and excitement I had joined -the Company's foreign service for. Here before me were human lives, -drama, tragedy, even an occasional touch of human-interest comedy.</p> - -<p>For the Company was supporting most of Naples and whatever affected a -Neapolitan life showed up somehow in the records of the Company.</p> - -<p>It was a clean, <i>dedicated</i> feeling to work for the Company. The monks -of the Middle Ages might have had something of the same positive -conviction that their work in the service of a mighty churchly empire -was right and just, but surely no one since.</p> - -<p>I attacked the mountain of forms with determination, taking pleasure in -the knowledge that every one I processed meant one life helped by the -Company.</p> - -<p>It was plain in history, for all to see. Once the world had been -turbulent and distressed, and the Company had smoothed it out. It had -started with fires and disease. When the first primitive insurance -companies—there were more than one, in the early days—began offering -protection against the hazards of fire, they had found it wise to -try to prevent fires. There were the advertising campaigns with -their wistful-eyed bears pleading with smokers not to drop their -lighted cigarettes in the dry forest; the technical bureaus like the -Underwriter's Laboratory, testing electrical equipment, devising -intricate and homely gimmicks like the underwriter's knot; the -Fire Patrol in the big cities that followed up the city-owned Fire -Department; the endless educational sessions in the schools.... And -fires decreased.</p> - -<p>Then there was life insurance. Each time a death benefit was paid, a -digit rang up on the actuarial scoreboard. Was tuberculosis a major -killer? Establish mobile chest X-rays; alert the people to the meaning -of a chronic cough. Was it heart disease? Explain the dangers of -overweight, the idiocy of exercise past forty. People lived longer.</p> - -<p>Health insurance followed the same pattern. It had begun by paying for -bills incurred during sickness, and ended by providing full medical -sickness prevention and treatment for all. Elaborate research programs -reduced the danger of disease to nearly nothing. Only a few rare cases, -like that of Marianna....</p> - -<p>I shook myself away from the thought. Anyway, it was neither fire nor -health insurance that concerned me now, but the Blue Bolt anti-war -complex of the Company's policies. It was easy enough to see how it -had come about. For with fire and accident and disease ameliorated -by the strong protecting hand of the Company, only one major hazard -remained—war.</p> - -<p>And so the Company had logically and inevitably resolved to wipe out -war.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I looked up. It was Susan again, this time with a cardboard container -of coffee.</p> - -<p>"You're an angel," I said. She set the coffee down and turned to go. I -looked quickly around to make sure that Gogarty was busy, and stopped -her. "Tell me something?"</p> - -<p>"Sure."</p> - -<p>"About this girl, Rena. Does she work for the Company?"</p> - -<p>Susan giggled. "Heavens, no. What an idea!"</p> - -<p>"What's so strange about it?"</p> - -<p>She straightened out her face. "You'd better ask Sam—Mr. Gogarty, that -is. Didn't you have a chance to talk to her last night? Or were you too -busy with other things?"</p> - -<p>"I only want to know how she happened to be with you."</p> - -<p>Susan shrugged. "Sam thought you'd like to meet her, I guess. Really, -you'll have to ask him. All I know is that she's been in here quite -a lot about some claims. But she doesn't work here, believe me." She -wrinkled her nose in amusement. "And I won't work here either, if I -don't get back to my desk."</p> - -<p>I took the hint. By lunch time, I had got through a good half of the -accumulation on my desk. I ate briefly and not too well at a nearby -<i>trattoria</i> with a "B" on the Blue Plate medallion in its window. -After the dinner of the night before, I more than half agreed with -Gogarty's comments about the Blue Plate menus.</p> - -<p>Gogarty called me over when I got back to the office. He said, "I -haven't had a chance to talk to you about Luigi Zorchi."</p> - -<p>I nodded eagerly. I had been hoping for some explanations.</p> - -<p>Gogarty went on, "Since you were on the scene when he took his dive, -you might as well follow up. God knows you can't do worse than the rest -of us."</p> - -<p>I said dubiously, "Well, I saw the accident, if that's what you mean."</p> - -<p>"Accident! What accident? This is the twelfth time he's done it, I tell -you." He tossed a file folder at me. "Take a look! Loss of limbs—four -times. Internal injuries—six times. Loss of vision, impaired hearing, -hospitalization and so on—good lord, I can't count the number of -separate claims. And, every one, he has collected on. Go ahead, look it -over."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I peered at the folder. The top sheet was a field report on the -incident I had watched, when the locomotive of the Milan express had -severed both legs. The one below it, dated five weeks earlier, was for -flash burns suffered in the explosion of a stove, causing the loss of -the right forearm nearly to the elbow.</p> - -<p>Curious, I thought, I hadn't noticed anything when I saw the man on the -platform. Still, I hadn't paid too much attention to him at first, and -modern prosthetic devices were nearly miraculous. I riffled through the -red-bordered sheets. The fifth claim down, nearly two years before, -was—</p> - -<p>I yelped, "Mr. Gogarty! This is a fraud!"</p> - -<p>"What?"</p> - -<p>"Look at this! 'On 21st October, the insured suffered severe injuries -while trapped in a rising elevator with faulty safety equipment, -resulting in loss of both legs above knees, multiple lacerations of—' -Well, never mind the rest of it. But look at that, Mr. Gogarty! He -already lost both legs! He can't lose them twice, can he?"</p> - -<p>Gogarty sat back in his chair, looking at me oddly. "You startled me," -he complained. "Wills, what have I been trying to tell you? That's the -whole point, boy! No, he didn't lose his legs twice. It was <i>five</i> -times!"</p> - -<p>I goggled at him. "But—"</p> - -<p>"But, but. But he did. Wait a minute—" he held up a hand to stop my -questions—"just take a look through the folder. See for yourself." He -waited while, incredulously, I finished going through the dossier. It -was true. I looked at Gogarty wordlessly.</p> - -<p>He said resentfully, "You see what we're up against? And none of -the things you are about to say would help. There is no mistake -in the records—they've been double and triple-checked. There -is no possibility that another man, or men, substituted for -Zorchi—fingerprints have checked every time. The three times he lost -his arms, retina-prints checked. There is no possibility that the -doctors were bribed, or that he lost a little bit more of his leg, for -instance, in each accident—the severed sections were recovered, and -they were complete. Wills, <i>this guy grows new arms and legs like a -crab</i>!"</p> - -<p>I looked at him in a daze. "What a fantastic scientific discovery!" I -said.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He snorted. "Fantastic pain in the neck! Zorchi can't go on like this; -he'll bankrupt the Company. We can't stop him. Even when we were tipped -off this time—we couldn't stop him. And I'll tell you true, Wills, -that platform was loaded with our men when Zorchi made his dive. You -weren't the only Adjuster of the Company there."</p> - -<p>He picked a folded sheet of paper out of his desk. "Here. Zorchi is -still in the hospital; no visitors allowed today. But I want you to -take these credentials and go to see him tomorrow. You came to us with -a high recommendation from the Home Office, Wills—" That made me look -at him sharply, but his expression was innocent "You're supposed to -be a man of intelligence and resourcefulness. See if you can come up -with some ideas on dealing with that situation. I'd handle it myself, -but I've got—" he grimaced—"certain other minor administrative -difficulties to deal with. Oh, nothing important, but you might as -well know that there appears to be a little, well, popular underground -resentment toward the Company around here."</p> - -<p>"Incredible!" I said.</p> - -<p>He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. "Well," he said, "it's -quitting time. See you in the morning."</p> - -<p>I had a lonely dinner at the same cheap restaurant where I'd had my -lunch. I spent an hour in my room with my Company-issued <i>Adjuster's -Handbook</i>, looking for some precedent that had some sort of bearing -on the case of a man who could grow new arms and legs. There wasn't -anything, of course. I went out for a walk ... and still it wasn't -nearly time for me to retire to bed.</p> - -<p>So I did what I had been avoiding doing. I looked in the phone book -for Rena dell'Angela's number. There was, it developed, a Benedetto -dell'Angela at the address she'd given the cab driver; but the phone -was disconnected.</p> - -<p>So I wandered around some more, and then I went to sleep, dreaming -about Benedetto dell'Angela. I saw him as a leather-faced, -white-bearded and courtly old gentleman. Rena's father, surely. -Possibly even her elder brother. Certainly not her husband.</p> - -<p>It was a dull finish to the first full day of my rich, exciting new -life....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The "minor administrative difficulties" got major. So I didn't get to -see Zorchi the next day, after all.</p> - -<p>A Junior Adjuster named Hammond—he was easily sixty, but the -slow-moving, unenterprising type that would stay junior till the day he -died—came white-faced into the office a few minutes after opening and -huddled with Gogarty for a quarter of an hour.</p> - -<p>Then Gogarty called me over. He said, "We're having a spot of trouble. -Hammond needs a little help; you're elected. Draw what you need, take -a couple of expediters along, report back to me this evening."</p> - -<p>Hammond and I stopped at the cashier's office to draw three -dispatch-cases full of lira-notes. Outside, an armored car was waiting -for us, with a full crew of six uniformed expediters. We raced off down -the narrow streets with the sirens wailing, climbing the long hill road -past the radioactive remains of Capodichino, heading out toward the -farmlands.</p> - -<p>Hammond worriedly filled me in on the way. He had got in early to his -branch office that morning, but no earlier than the first of a long -line of policyholders. There had, it appeared, been some kind of rumor -spread that the Company was running out of money. It was preposterous -on the face of it—after all, who <i>printed</i> the money?—but you can't -argue with a large group of people and, before the official hour of -opening the branch, there were more than a hundred in the knotted line -outside the door.</p> - -<p>Hammond had rushed into the Naples office for help, leaving his staff -to do the best they could. He said gloomily, staring out through the -view-slits at the farmlands and vineyards we were passing through, "I -just hope we still have a branch office. This is a bad spot, Wills. -Caserta. It got bombed out, you know; the whole southern end of the -town is radioactive. And it has a long history of trouble. Used to be -the summer royal seat of the old Italian monarchy; then the Americans -used it for a command headquarters in the war Mussolini got into—the -first atom war. It's been fought over time and again."</p> - -<p>I said reasonably, "But don't they know the Company has all the -resources in the world?"</p> - -<p>"Sure they do—when they're thinking. Right now they're not thinking. -They've got it in their heads that the Company isn't going to pay off. -They're scared. You can't tell them anything. You can't even give them -checks—they want cash on the line."</p> - -<p>I said, "That's pretty silly, isn't it? I mean—ugh!" I retched, as -I suddenly got a whiff of the most unpleasant and penetrating odor I -had ever encountered in my life. It was like death and destruction in -gaseous form; a sickly sweet, clinging stink that oozed in through the -pores of my skin to turn my stomach. "Wow!" I said, gasping.</p> - -<p>Hammond looked at me in bewilderment; then he grinned sourly. "New -here, aren't you?" he inquired. "That's hemp. They grow the stuff -for the fibers; and to get the fibers out, they let it get good and -rotten. You'll get used to it," he promised.</p> - -<p>I tried. I tried pretty hard to get used to it; I hardly heard a word -he said all the rest of the way in to Caserta, I was trying so hard. -But I didn't get used to it.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Then I had my mind taken off my troubles. The branch was still doing -business when we got there, though there were easily three or four -hundred angrily shouting policyholders milling around in front of it. -They scattered before us as the armored car came racing in; we skidded -to a stop, siren blasting, and the expediters leaped out with their -weapons at the ready.</p> - -<p>Hammond and I climbed out of the armored car with our bags of money. -There was an audible excitement in the crowd as the word spread back -that the Company had brought in enormous stores of lire, more than any -man had ever seen, to pay off the claims. We could hear the chatter of -many voices, and we almost could feel the tension slack off.</p> - -<p>It looked like the trouble was over.</p> - -<p>Then there was a shrill whistle. It sounded very much like the alarm -whistle of one of our expediters but, thinking back, I have never been -sure.</p> - -<p>Perhaps it was a nervous expediter, perhaps it was an agent provocateur -in the crowd. But, whoever pulled the trigger, the explosion went off.</p> - -<p>There was a ragged yell from the crowd, and rocks began whizzing -through the air. The pacifists in the mob began heading for the -doorways and alleys around; women screamed, men shouted and bellowed, -and for a moment it looked like we would be swamped. For not very many -of them were pacifists, and there were at least a hundred screaming, -gesticulating men lunging at us.</p> - -<p>One cobblestone shattered the theoretically unbreakable windshield of -the truck next to my head; then the expediters, gas guns spitting, were -ringing around us to protect the money.</p> - -<p>It was a short fight but vicious. By the time the first assault was -repulsed there were at least fifty persons lying motionless in the -street.</p> - -<p>I had never seen that sort of violence before. It did something to -my stomach. I stood weaving, holding to the armored car, while the -expediters circled the area around the branch office, firing hurry-up -shots at the running rioters. Hammond looked at me questioningly.</p> - -<p>"That smell," I said apologetically.</p> - -<p>He said only, "Sure." True, the fetid aroma from the hemp fields was -billowing all around us, but he knew as well as I that it was not the -smell that was bothering me.</p> - -<p>In a few moments, as we were locking the bags of money into the office -safe, red-crossed vehicles bearing the Company insignia appeared in the -street outside, and medics began tending to the victims. Each one got -a shot of something—an antidote to the sleep-gas from the expediters' -guns, I guessed—and was loaded unceremoniously into the ambulances.</p> - -<p>Hammond appeared beside me. "Ready for business?" he asked. "They'll be -back any minute now, the ones that can still walk. We'll be paying off -until midnight, the way it looks."</p> - -<p>I said, "Sure. That—that gas doesn't hurt them any, does it? I mean, -after they go to the hospital they'll be all right, won't they?"</p> - -<p>Hammond, twirling a pencil in his fingers, stared broodingly at the -motionless body of one policyholder. He was a well-dressed man of fifty -or so, with a reddish mustache, unusual in that area, and shattered -rimless glasses. Not at all the type I would expect to see in a street -fight; probably, I thought, a typical innocent bystander.</p> - -<p>Hammond said absently, "Oh, sure. They'll be all right. Never know what -hit them." There was a tiny sharp <i>crack</i> and the two halves of the -pencil fell to the floor. He looked at it in surprise. "Come on, Wills. -Let's get to work."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">III</p> - -<p>Of course I still believed in the Company.</p> - -<p>But all the same, it was the first time since I went to work for the -Company that I had even had to ask myself that question.</p> - -<p>That long, long day in Hammond's puny little branch office, sweltering -in the smell of the hemp fields, pushing across the mountains of lire -to the grim-faced policyholders left me a little less sure of things. -Nearly all of the first hundred or so to pass my desk had been in -the crowd that the expediters had fired on. A few had fresh bandages -to show where stones had missed the expediters, but found targets -all the same. Nearly all of them were hostile. There was no casual -conversation, very few "<i>Grazies</i>" as they received their payments.</p> - -<p>But at last the day was at an end. Hammond snapped an order to one -of the clerks, who shoved his way through the dwindling line to close -the door and bang down the shutters. I put through the last few -applications, and we were through.</p> - -<p>It was hot and muggy out in the streets of New Caserta. Truce teams -of expediters were patrolling the square, taken off their regular -assignments of enforcing the peace between Naples and Sicily to keep -down Caserta's own mobs. Hammond suggested dinner, and we went to a -little Blue Plate in the palace itself.</p> - -<p>Hammond held Class-A food policies, but he was politeness itself; -he voluntarily led the way to the Class-B area. We presented our -policy-cards to the waiter for canceling, and sat back to enjoy the air -conditioning.</p> - -<p>I was still troubled over the violence. I said, "Has there been any -trouble around here before?"</p> - -<p>Hammond said ruefully, "Plenty. All over Europe, if you want my -opinion. Of course, you never see it in the papers, but I've heard -stories from field workers. They practically had a revolution in the -Sudeten strip after the Prague-Vienna affair." He stopped talking as -the waiter set his Meal-of-the-Day in front of him. Hammond looked at -it sourly. "Oh, the hell with it, Wills," he said. "Have a drink with -me to wash this stuff down."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We ordered liquor, and Hammond shoved his Class-A card at the waiter. -I am not a snoop, but I couldn't help noticing that the liquor coupons -were nearly all gone; at his present rate, Hammond would use up his -year's allotment by the end of the summer, and be paying cash for his -drinks.</p> - -<p>Dinner was dull. Hammond made it dull, because he was much more -interested in his drinking than in me. Though I was never much of -a drinker, I'd had a little experience in watching others tank up; -Hammond I classified as the surly and silent type. He wasn't quite rude -to me, but after the brandy with his coffee, and during the three or -four straight whiskies that followed that, he hardly spoke to me at all.</p> - -<p>We left the Blue Plate in a strained silence and, after the cooled -restaurant, the heat outside was painful. The air was absolutely -static, and the odor from the hemp fields soaked into our clothes like -a bath in a sewer.</p> - -<p>Overhead it was nearly dark, and there were low black clouds. "We'd -better get going," I ventured. "Looks like rain."</p> - -<p>Hammond said nothing, only grunted. He lurched ahead of me toward the -narrow street that led back to the branch office, where our transport -was waiting.</p> - -<p>The distance was easily half a mile. Now I am not terribly lazy, and -even in the heat I was willing enough to walk. But I didn't want to get -caught in a rain. Maybe it was superstition on my part—I knew that the -danger was really slight—but I couldn't forget that three separate -atomic explosions had gone off in the area around Caserta and Naples -within only a few months, and there was going to be a certain amount -of radioactivity in every drop of rain that fell for a hundred miles -around.</p> - -<p>I started to tell Hammond about it, but he made a disgusted noise and -stumbled ahead.</p> - -<p>It wasn't as if we had to walk. Caserta was not well equipped with -cabs, but there were a few; and both Hammond and myself ranked high -enough in the Company to have been able to get a lift from one of the -expediter cars that were cruising about.</p> - -<p>There was a flare of lightning over the eastern mountains and, in -a moment, the pounding roll of thunder. And a flat globule of rain -splattered on my face.</p> - -<p>I said, "Hammond, let's wait here for a lift."</p> - -<p>Surprisingly he came along with me.</p> - -<p>If he hadn't, I would have left him in the street.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We were in a street of tenements. It was almost deserted; I rapped on -the nearest door. No answer, no sound inside. I rapped again, then -tried the door. It was locked.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus2.jpg" width="600" height="305" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>The next door—ancient and rickety as the first—was also locked, -and no one answered. The third door, no one answered. By then it was -raining hard; the knob turned under my fingers, and we stepped inside.</p> - -<p>We left the door ajar, on the chance that a squad car or cab might -pass, and for light. It was almost dark outside, apart from the light -from the lightning flashes, but even so it was darker within. There was -no light at all in the narrow, odorous hall; not even a light seeping -under the apartment doors.</p> - -<p>In the lightning flare, Hammond's face was pale. He was beginning to -sober up, and his manner was uneasy.</p> - -<p>We were there perhaps half an hour in that silent hall, watching the -rain sleet down and the lightning flare and listening to the thunder. -Two or three times, squad cars passed, nosing slowly down the drenched -streets, but though Hammond looked longingly at them, I still didn't -want to get wet.</p> - -<p>Then the rain slowed and almost simultaneously a civilian cab appeared -at the head of the block. "Come on," I said, tugging at his arm.</p> - -<p>He balked. "Wait for a squad car," he mumbled.</p> - -<p>"Why? Come on, Hammond, it may start to pour again in a minute."</p> - -<p>"No!"</p> - -<p>His behavior was exasperating me. Clearly it wasn't that he was too -niggardly to pay for the cab; it was almost as if he were delaying -going back to the branch office for some hidden reason. But that was -ridiculous, of course.</p> - -<p>I said, "Look, you can stay here if you want to, but I'm going." I -jumped out of the doorway just in time to flag the cab; it rolled to -a stop, and the driver backed to where I was standing. As I got in, I -looked once more to the doorway where Hammond was standing, his face -unreadable.</p> - -<p>He made a gesture of some sort, but the lightning flashed again and I -skipped into the cab. When I looked again he was invisible inside the -doorway, and I told the driver to take me to the branch office of the -Company.</p> - -<p>Curious; but it was not an end to curious things that night. At the -branch office, my car was waiting to take me back to Naples.</p> - -<p>I surrendered my travel coupons to the cab driver and jumped from one -vehicle to the other.</p> - -<p>Before my driver could start, someone appeared at the window of the car -and a sharp voice said, "Un momento, Signore 'Ammond!"</p> - -<p>I stared at the man, a rather badly dressed Neapolitan. I said angrily, -"Hammond isn't here!"</p> - -<p>The man's expression changed. It had been belligerent; it now became -astonished and apologetic. "A thousand times excuse me," he said. "The -Signore 'Ammond, can you say where he is?"</p> - -<p>I hesitated, but only for a moment. I didn't like the little man -peering in my window, however humble and conciliatory he had become. I -said abruptly, "No." And my driver took off, leaving the man standing -there.</p> - -<p>I turned to look back at him as we drove off.</p> - -<p>It was ridiculous, but the way he was standing as we left, holding one -hand in his pocket, eyes narrowed and thoughtful, made me think that he -was carrying a gun.</p> - -<p>But, of course, that was impossible. The Company didn't permit lethal -weapons, and who in all the world would challenge a rule of the Company?</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>When I showed up in the Naples office the next morning, Susan had my -coffee ready and waiting for me. I said gratefully, "Bless you."</p> - -<p>She chuckled. "That's not all," she said. "Here's something else you -might like. Just remember though, if anyone asks, you got it out of the -files yourself."</p> - -<p>She slipped a folder under the piles of forms on my desk and -disappeared. I peered at it curiously. It was labeled: "Policy -BNT-3KT-890776, Blue Bolt Comprehensive. Insuree: Renata dell'Angela."</p> - -<p>I could have been no more grateful had she given me the Company Mint.</p> - -<p>But I had no chance to examine it. Gogarty was calling for me. I -hastily swallowed my coffee and reported for orders.</p> - -<p>They were simple enough. The appointment with Zorchi that I hadn't been -able to keep the day before was set up for right then. I was already -late and I had to leave without another glance at Rena's file.</p> - -<p>The hospital Zorchi honored with his patronage was a marble-halled -palace on the cliffs that rimmed the southern edge of the Bay of -Naples. It was a luxurious, rich man's hospital, stuffy with its -opulence; but the most opulent of all was the plush-lined three-room -suite where Zorchi was.</p> - -<p>A white-robed sister of some religious order led me into a silent -elevator and along a statued hall. She tapped on a door, and left me in -the care of a sharp-faced young man with glasses who introduced himself -as Mr. Zorchi's secretary.</p> - -<p>I explained my business. He contemptuously waved me to a brocaded -chair, and left me alone for a good half hour.</p> - -<p>By the time Zorchi was ready to see me, I was boiling. Nobody could -treat a representative of the Company like an errand boy! I did my best -to take into consideration the fact that he had just undergone major -surgery—first under the wheels of the train, then under the knives of -three of Naples' finest surgeons.</p> - -<p>I said as pleasantly as I could, "I'm glad to see you at last."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The dark face on the pink embroidered pillow turned coldly toward me. -"Che volete?" he demanded. The secretary opened his mouth to translate.</p> - -<p>I said quickly, "Scusí; parlo un po' la lingua. Non bisogno un -traduttore."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus3.jpg" width="600" height="382" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Zorchi said languidly in Italian, "In that case, Mario, you may go. -What do you want with me, Weels?"</p> - -<p>I explained my duties as a Claims Adjuster for the Company, pointing -out that it was my task, indeed my privilege, to make settlement for -injuries covered by Company policies. He listened condescendingly. I -watched him carefully while I talked, trying to estimate the approach -he might respond to if I was to win his confidence.</p> - -<p>He was far from an attractive young man, I thought. No longer behind -the shabby porter's uniform he had worn on the platform of the station, -he still had an unkempt and slipshod appearance, despite the heavy -silken dressing gown he wore and the manifest costliness of his room. -The beard was still on his face; it, at least, had not been a disguise. -It was not an attractive beard. It had been weeks, at the least, since -any hand had trimmed it to shape and his hair was just as shaggy.</p> - -<p>Zorchi was not impressed with my friendly words. When I had finished, -he said coldly, "I have had claims against the Company before, Weels. -Why is it that this time you make speeches at me?"</p> - -<p>I said carefully, "Well, you must admit you are a rather unusual case."</p> - -<p>"Case?" He frowned fiercely. "I am no case, Weels. I am Zorchi, if you -please."</p> - -<p>"Of course, of course. I only mean to say that—"</p> - -<p>"That I am a statistic, eh?" He bobbed his head. "Surely. I comprehend. -But I am not a statistic, you see. Or, at best, I am a statistic which -will not fit into your electronic machines, am I not?"</p> - -<p>I admitted, "As I say, you are a rather unusual ca—a rather unusual -person, Mr. Zorchi."</p> - -<p>He grinned coldly. "Good. We are agreed. Now that we have come to that -understanding, are we finished with this interview?"</p> - -<p>I coughed. "Mr. Zorchi, I'll be frank with you." He snorted, but I went -on, "According to your records, this claim need not be paid. You see, -you already have been paid for total disability, both a lump sum and a -continuing settlement. There is no possibility of two claims for the -loss of your legs, you must realize."</p> - -<p>He looked at me with a touch of amusement. "I must?" he asked. "It -is odd. I have discussed this, you understand, with many attorneys. -The premiums were paid, were they not? The language of the policy -is clear, is it not? My legs—would you like to observe the stumps -yourself?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He flung the silken covers off. I averted my eyes from the -white-bandaged lower half of his torso, hairy and scrawny and horribly -<i>less</i> than a man's legs should be.</p> - -<p>I said desperately, "Perhaps I spoke too freely. I do not mean, Mr. -Zorchi, that we will not pay your claim. The Company <i>always</i> lives up -to the letter of its contracts."</p> - -<p>He covered himself casually. "Very well. Give the check to my -secretary, please. Are you concluded?"</p> - -<p>"Not quite." I swallowed. I plunged right in. "Mr. Zorchi, what the -hell are you up to? How do you do it? There isn't any fraud, I admit -it. You really lost your legs—more than once. You grew new ones. But -how? Don't you realize how important this is? If you can do it, why not -others? If you are in some way pecu—that is, if the structure of your -body is in some way different from that of others, won't you help us -find out how so that we can learn from it? It isn't necessary for you -to live as you do, you know."</p> - -<p>He was looking at me with a hint of interest in his close-set, dull -eyes. I continued, "Even if you can grow new legs, do you <i>enjoy</i> the -pain of having them cut off? Have you ever stopped to think that some -day, perhaps, you will miscalculate, and the wheels of the train, or -the truck, or whatever you use, may miss your legs and kill you? -That's no way for a man to live, Mr. Zorchi. Why not talk freely to me, -let me help you? Why not take the Company into your confidence, instead -of living by fraud and deceit and—"</p> - -<p>I had gone too far. Livid, he snarled, "Ass! That will cost your -Company, I promise. Is it fraud for me to suffer like this? Do I enjoy -it, do you think? Look, ass!" He flung the covers aside again, ripped -at the white bandages with his hands—Blood spurted. He uncovered the -raw stumps and jerked them at me.</p> - -<p>I do not believe any sight of my life shocked me as much as that; it -was worse than the Caserta hemp fields, worse than the terrible <i>gone</i> -moment when Marianna died, worse than anything I could imagine.</p> - -<p>He raved, "See this fraud, look at it closely! Truly, I grow new legs, -but does that make it easier to lose the old? It is the pain of being -born, Weels, a pain you will never know! I grow legs, I grow arms, I -grow eyes. I will never die! I will live on like a reptile or a fish."</p> - -<p>His eyes were staring. Ignoring the blood spurting from his stumps, -ignoring my attempts to say something, he pounded his abdomen. "Twelve -times I have been cut—do you see even a scar? My appendix, it is bad; -it traps filth, and the filth makes me sick. And I have it cut out—and -it grows again; and I have it cut out again, and it grows back. And the -pain, Weels, the pain never stops!" He flung the robe open, slapped his -narrow, hairy chest.</p> - -<p>I gasped. Under the scraggly hair was a rubble of boils and wens, -breaking and matting the hair as he struck himself in frenzy. "Envy me, -Weels!" he shouted. "Envy the man whose body defends itself against -everything! I will live forever, I promise it, and I will always be in -pain, and someone will pay for every horrible moment of it! Now get -out, get out!"</p> - -<p>I left under the hating eyes of the sharp-faced secretary who silently -led me to the door.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I had put Zorchi through a tantrum and subjected myself to as -disagreeable a time as I'd ever had. And I hadn't accomplished a thing. -I knew that well enough. And if I hadn't known it by myself, I would -have found out.</p> - -<p>Gogarty pointed it out to me, in detail. "You're a big disappointment -to me," he moaned sourly. "Ah, the hell with it. What were you trying -to accomplish, anyway?"</p> - -<p>I said defensively, "I thought I might appeal to his altruism. After -all, you didn't give me very explicit instructions."</p> - -<p>"I didn't tell you to remember to wipe your nose either," he said -bitterly. He shook his head, the anger disappearing. "Well," he said -disconsolately, "I don't suppose we're any worse off than we were. -I guess I'd better try this myself." He must have caught a hopeful -anticipatory gleam in my eye, because he said quickly, "Not right now, -Wills. You've made that impossible. I'll just have to wait until he -cools off."</p> - -<p>I said nothing; just stood there waiting for him to let me go. I was -sorry things hadn't worked out but, after all, he had very little to -complain about. Besides, I wanted to get back to my desk and the folder -about Rena dell'Angela. It wasn't so much that I was interested in her -as a person, I reminded myself. I was just curious....</p> - -<p>Once again, I had to stay curious for a while. Gogarty had other plans -for me. Before I knew what was happening, I was on my way out of the -office again, this time to visit another Neapolitan hospital, where -some of the severely injured in the recent war were waiting final -settlement of their claims. It was a hurry-up matter, which had been -postponed too many times already; some of the injured urgently required -major medical treatment, and the hospital was howling for approval of -their claims before they'd begin treatment.</p> - -<p>This one was far from a marble palace. It had the appearance of a -stucco tenement, and all of the patients were in wards. I was a little -surprised to see expediters guarding the entrance.</p> - -<p>I asked one of them, "Anything wrong?"</p> - -<p>He looked at me with a flicker of astonishment, recognizing the -double-breasted Claim Adjuster uniform, surprised, I think, at my -asking him a question. "Not as long as we're here, sir," he said.</p> - -<p>"I mean, I was wondering what you were doing here."</p> - -<p>The surprise became overt. "Vaults," he said succinctly.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I prodded no further. I knew what he meant by vaults, of course. It -was part of the Company's beneficent plan for ameliorating the effects -of even such tiny wars as the Naples-Sicily affair that those who -suffered radiation burns got the best treatment possible. And the best -treatment, of course, was suspended animation. The deadly danger of -radiation burns lay in their cumulative effect; the first symptoms -were nothing, the man was well and able to walk about. Degeneration -of the system followed soon, the marrow of the bone gave up on its -task of producing white corpuscles, the blood count dropped, the tiny -radiant poisons in his blood spread and worked their havoc. If he could -be gotten through the degenerative period he might live. But, if he -lived, he would still die. That is, if his life processes continued, -the radiation sickness would kill him. The answer was to stop the life -process, temporarily, by means of the injections and deep-freeze in -the vaults. It was used for more than radiation, of course. Marianna, -for instance—</p> - -<p>Well, anyway, that was what the vaults were. These were undoubtedly -just a sort of distribution point, where local cases were received and -kept until they could be sent to the main Company vaults up the coast -at Anzio.</p> - -<p>I wasn't questioning the presence of vaults there; I was only curious -why the Company felt they needed guarding.</p> - -<p>I found myself so busy, though, that I had no time to think about it. -A good many of the cases in this shabby hospital really needed the -Company's help. But a great many of them were obvious attempts at fraud.</p> - -<p>There was a woman, for instance, in the maternity ward. During the war, -she'd had to hide out after the Capodichino bombing and hadn't been -able to reach medical service. So her third child was going to be a -girl, and she was asking indemnity under the gender-guarantee clause. -But she had only Class-C coverage and her first two had been boys; a -daughter was permissible in any of the first four pregnancies. She -began swearing at me before I finished explaining these simple facts to -her.</p> - -<p>I walked out of the ward, hot under the collar. Didn't these people -realize we were trying to help them? They didn't appear to be aware of -it. Only the terribly injured, the radiation cases, the amputees, the -ones under anesthetic—only these gave me no arguments, mainly because -they couldn't talk.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Most of them were on their way to the vaults, I found. My main job was -revision of their policies to provide for immobilization. Inevitably, -there are some people who will try to take advantage of anything.</p> - -<p>The retirement clause in the basic contract was the joker here. -Considering that the legal retirement age under the universal Blue -Heaven policy was seventy-five years—calendar years, not metabolic -years—there were plenty of invalids who wanted a few years in the -vaults for reasons that had nothing to do with health. If they could -sleep away two or three decades, they could, they thought, emerge at a -physical age of forty or so and live idly off the Company the rest of -their lives.</p> - -<p>They naturally didn't stop to think that if any such practice became -common the Company would simply be unable to pay claims. And they -certainly didn't think, or care that, if the Company went bankrupt, -the world as we knew it would end.</p> - -<p>It was a delicate problem; we couldn't deny them medical care, but we -couldn't permit them the vaults unless they were either in clearly -urgent need, or were willing to sign an extension waiver to their -policies....</p> - -<p>I saw plenty of that, that afternoon. The radiation cases were the -worst, in that way, because they still could talk and argue. Even while -they were being loaded with drugs, even while they could see with their -own eyes the blood-count graph dipping lower and lower, they still -complained at being asked to sign the waiver.</p> - -<p>There was even some fear of the vaults themselves—though every living -human had surely seen the Company's indoctrination films that showed -how the injected drugs slowed life processes and inhibited the body's -own destructive enzymes; how the apparently lifeless body, down to -ambient air temperature, would be slipped into its hermetic plastic -sack and stacked away, row on row, far underground, to sleep away the -months or years or, if necessary, the centuries. Time meant nothing to -the suspendees. It was hard to imagine being afraid of as simple and -natural a process as that!</p> - -<p>Although I had to admit that the vaults looked a lot like morgues....</p> - -<p>I didn't enjoy it. I kept thinking of Marianna. She had feared the -vaults too, in the childish, unreasoning, feminine way that was her -characteristic. When the Blue Blanket technicians had turned up the -diagnosis of leukemia, they had proposed the sure-thing course of -putting her under suspension while the slow-acting drugs—specially -treated to operate even under those conditions—worked their cure, -but she had refused. There had been, they admitted, a ninety-nine and -nine-tenths per cent prospect of a cure without suspension....</p> - -<p>It just happened that Marianna was in the forlorn one-tenth that died.</p> - -<p>I couldn't get her out of my mind. The cases who protested or whined or -pleaded or shrieked that they were being tortured and embalmed alive -didn't help. I was glad when the afternoon was over and I could get -back to the office.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>As I came in the door, Gogarty was coming in, too, from the barbershop -downstairs. He was freshly shaved and beaming.</p> - -<p>"Quitting time, Tom," he said amiably, though his eyes were memorizing -the pile of incomplete forms on my desk. "All work and no play, you -know." He nudged me. "Not that you need reminding, eh? Still, you ought -to tell your girl that she shouldn't call you on office time, Tom."</p> - -<p>"Call me? Rena called me?"</p> - -<p>He nodded absently, intent on the desk. "Against Company rules, you -know. Say, I don't like to push you, but aren't you running a little -behind here?"</p> - -<p>I said with some irritation, "I don't have much chance to catch up, the -way I've been racing around the country, you know. And there's plenty -to be done."</p> - -<p>He said soothingly, "Now, take it easy, Tom. I was only trying to say -that there might be some easier way to handle these things." He speared -a form, glanced over it casually. He frowned. "Take this, for instance. -The claim is for catching cold as a result of exposure during the -evacuation of Cerignola. What would you do with that one?"</p> - -<p>"Why—pay it, I suppose."</p> - -<p>"And put in the paper work? Suppose it's a phony, Tom? Not one case of -coryza in fifty is genuine."</p> - -<p>"What would you do?" I asked resentfully.</p> - -<p>He said without hesitation, "Send it back with Form CBB-23A192. Ask for -laboratory smear-test reports."</p> - -<p>I looked over the form. A long letter was attached; it said in more -detail than was necessary that there had been no laboratory service -during the brief war, at least where the policyholder happened to be, -and therefore he could submit only the affidavits of three registered -physicians. It looked like a fair claim to me. If it was up to me, I -would have paid it automatically.</p> - -<p>I temporized. "Suppose it's legitimate?"</p> - -<p>"Suppose it is? Look at it this way, Tom. If it's phoney, this will -scare him off, and you'd be saving the Company the expense and -embarrassment of paying off a fraudulent claim. If it's legitimate, -he'll resubmit it—at a time when, perhaps, we won't be so busy. -Meanwhile that's one more claim handled and disposed of, for our -progress reports to the Home Office."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I stared at him unbelievingly. But he looked back in perfect calm, -until my eyes dropped. After all, I thought, he was right in a way. -The mountain of work on my desk was certainly a log-jam, and it had to -be broken somehow. Maybe rejecting this claim would work some small -hardship in an individual case, but what about the hundreds and -thousands of others waiting for attention? Wasn't it true that no small -hardship to an individual was as serious as delaying all those others?</p> - -<p>It was, after all, that very solicitude for the people at large that -the Company relied on for its reputation—that, and the iron-clad -guarantee of prompt and full settlement.</p> - -<p>I said, "I suppose you're right."</p> - -<p>He nodded, and turned away. Then he paused. "I didn't mean to bawl you -out for that phone call, Tom," he said. "Just tell her about the rule, -will you?"</p> - -<p>"Sure. Oh, one thing." He waited. I coughed. "This girl, Rena. I don't -know much about her, you know. Is she, well, someone you know?"</p> - -<p>He said, "Heavens, no. She was making a pest out of herself around -here, frankly. She has a claim, but not a very good one. I don't know -all the details, because it's encoded, but the machines turned it down -automatically. I do know that she, uh—" he sort of half winked—"wants -a favor. Her old man is in trouble. I'll look it up for you some time, -if you want, and get the details. I think he's in the cooler—that is, -the clinic—up at Anzio."</p> - -<p>He scratched his plump jowls. "I didn't think it was fair to you -for me to have a girl at dinner and none for you; Susan promised to -bring someone along, and this one was right here, getting in the way. -She said she liked Americans, so I told her you would be assigned to -her case." This time he did wink. "No harm, of course. You certainly -wouldn't be influenced by any, well, personal relationship, if you -happened to get into one. Oh, a funny thing. She seemed to recognize -your name."</p> - -<p><i>That</i> was a jolt. "She what?"</p> - -<p>Gogarty shrugged. "Well, she reacted to it. 'Thomas Wills,' I said. -She'd been acting pretty stand-offish, but she warmed up quick. Maybe -she just likes the name, but right then is when she told me she liked -Americans."</p> - -<p>I cleared my throat. "Mr. Gogarty," I said determinedly, "please get -me straight on something. You say this girl's father is in some kind -of trouble, and you imply she knows me. I want to know if you've ever -had any kind of report, or even heard any kind of rumor, that would -make you think that I was in the least sympathetic to any anti-Company -groups? I'm aware that there were stories—"</p> - -<p>He stopped me. "I never heard any, Tom," he said definitely.</p> - -<p>I hesitated. It seemed like a good time to open up to Gogarty; I -opened my mouth to start, but I was too late. Susan called him off for -what she claimed was an urgent phone call and, feeling let-down, I -watched him waddle away.</p> - -<p>Because it was, after all, time that I took down my back hair with my -boss.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Well, I hadn't done anything too terribly bad—anyway, I hadn't <i>meant</i> -to do anything bad. And the circumstances sort of explained it, in a -way. And it was all in the past, and—</p> - -<p>And nothing. I faced the facts. I had spent three solid weeks getting -blind drunk, ranting and raving and staggering up to every passer-by -who would listen and whining to him that the Company was evil, the -Company was murderous, the Company had killed my wife.</p> - -<p>There was no denying it. And I had capped it all off one bleary -midnight, with a brick through the window of the Company branch office -that served my home. It was only a drunken piece of idiocy, I kept -telling myself. But it was a drunken piece of idiocy that landed me in -jail, that had been permanently indorsed on every one of my policies, -that was in the confidential pages of my Company service record. It -was a piece of idiocy that anyone might have done. But it would have -meant deep trouble for me, if it hadn't been for the intercession of my -wife's remote relative, Chief Underwriter Defoe.</p> - -<p>It was he who had bailed me out. He had never told me how he had found -out that I was in jail. He appeared, read the riot-act to me and got -me out. He put me over the coals later, yes, but he'd bailed me out. -He'd told me I was acting like a child—and convinced me of it, which -was harder. And when he was convinced I had snapped out of it, he -personally backed me for an appointment to the Company's school as a -cadet Claims Adjuster.</p> - -<p>I owed a considerable debt of gratitude to my ex-remote-in-law, Chief -Underwriter Defoe.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>While I still was brooding, Gogarty came back. He looked unhappy. -"Hammond," he said bitterly. "He's missing. Look, was he drunk when -you left him last night?" I nodded. "Thought so. Never showed up for -work. Not at his quarters. The daily ledger's still open at his office, -because there's no responsible person to sign it. So naturally I've got -to run out to Caserta now, and what Susan will say—" He muttered away.</p> - -<p>I remembered the file that was buried under the papers on my desk, when -he mentioned Susan's name.</p> - -<p>As soon as he was out of the office, I had it open.</p> - -<p>And as soon as I had it open, I stared at it in shock.</p> - -<p>The title page of the sheaf inside was headed: Signorina Renata -dell'Angela. Age 22; daughter of Benedetto dell'Angela; accepted to -general Class-AA; no employment. There were more details.</p> - -<p>But across all, in big red letters, was a rubber stamp: <i>Policy -Canceled. Reassigned Class-E.</i></p> - -<p>It meant that the sad-eyed Rena was completely uninsurable.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">IV</p> - -<p>Phone or no phone, I still had her address.</p> - -<p>It was still daylight when I got out of the cab, and I had a chance -for a good look at the house. It was a handsome place by day; the size -of the huge white stucco wall didn't fit the <i>uninsurable</i> notation -on Rena's claim. That wall enclosed a garden; the garden could hardly -hold less than an AA house. And Class-Es were ordinarily either sent to -public hostels—at the Company's expense, to be sure—or existed on -the charity of friends or relatives. And Class-Es seldom had friends in -Class-AA houses.</p> - -<p>I knocked at the gate. A fat woman, age uncertain but extreme, opened a -little panel and peered at me. I asked politely, "Miss dell'Angela?"</p> - -<p>The woman scowled. "Che dice?"</p> - -<p>I repeated: "May I see Miss dell'Angela? I'm a Claims Adjuster for the -Company. I have some business with her in connection with her policies."</p> - -<p>"Ha!" said the woman. She left it at that for a moment, pursing her -lips and regarding me thoughtfully. Then she shrugged apathetically. -"Momento," she said wearily, and left me standing outside the gate.</p> - -<p>From inside there was a muttering of unfamiliar voices. I thought I -heard a door open, and the sound of steps, but when the fat woman came -back she was alone.</p> - -<p>Silently she opened the door and nodded me in. I started automatically -up the courtyard toward the enclosed house, but she caught my arm and -motioned me toward another path. It led down a flowered lane through a -grape arbor to what might, at one time, have been a caretaker's hut.</p> - -<p>I knocked on the door of the hut, comprehending where Rena dell'Angela -lived as a Class-E uninsurable.</p> - -<p>Rena herself opened it, her face flushed, her expression -surprised—apprehensive, almost, I thought at first. It was the first -time I had seen her by daylight. She was—oh, there was no other word. -She was lovely.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus4.jpg" width="347" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>She said quickly, "Mr. Wills! I didn't expect you."</p> - -<p>I said, "You phoned me. I came as soon as I could."</p> - -<p>She hesitated. "I did," she admitted. "It was—I'm sorry, Mr. Wills. It -was an impulse. I shouldn't have done it."</p> - -<p>"What was it, Rena?"</p> - -<p>She shook her head. "I am sorry. It doesn't matter. But I am a bad -hostess; won't you come in?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The room behind the door was long and narrow, with worn furniture and -a door that led, perhaps, to another room behind. It seemed dusty and, -hating myself as a snooping fool, I took careful note that there was a -faint aroma of tobacco. I had been quite sure that she didn't smoke, -that evening we had met.</p> - -<p>She gestured at a chair—there only were two, both pulled up to a crude -wooden table, on which were two poured cups of coffee. "Please sit -down," she invited.</p> - -<p>I reminded myself that it was, after all, none of my business if she -chose to entertain friends—even friends who smoked particularly rancid -tobacco. And if they preferred not to be around when I came to the -door, why, that was their business, not mine. I said cautiously, "I -didn't mean to interrupt you."</p> - -<p>"Interrupt me?" She saw my eyes on the cups. "Oh—oh, no, Mr. Wills. -That other cup is for you, you see. I poured it when Luisa told me -you were at the gate. It isn't very good, I'm afraid," she said -apologetically.</p> - -<p>I made an effort to sip the coffee; it was terrible. I set it down. -"Rena, I just found out about your policies. Believe me, I'm sorry. I -hadn't known about it, when we had dinner together; I would have—Well, -I don't know what I would have done. There isn't much I can do, -truthfully; I don't want you thinking I have any great power. But I -wish I had known—I might not have made you cry, at any rate."</p> - -<p>She smiled an odd sort of smile. "That wasn't the reason, Mr. Wills."</p> - -<p>"Please call me Tom. Well, then, why did you cry?"</p> - -<p>"It is of no importance. Please."</p> - -<p>I coughed and tried a different tack. "You understand that I do have -<i>some</i> authority. And I would like to help you if I can—if you'll let -me."</p> - -<p>"Let you? How could I prevent it?"</p> - -<p>Her eyes were deep and dark. I shook myself and pulled the notes I'd -made on her policies from my pocket. In the most official voice I could -manage, I said, "You see, there may be some leeway in interpreting the -facts. As it stands, frankly, there isn't much hope. But if you'll give -me some information—"</p> - -<p>"Certainly."</p> - -<p>"All right. Now, your father—Benedetto dell'Angela. He was a casualty -of the war with Sicily; he got a dose of radiation, and he is at -present in a low-metabolism state in the clinic at Anzio, waiting for -the radiogens to clear out of his system. Is that correct?"</p> - -<p>"It is what the Company's report said," she answered.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Her tone was odd. Surely she wasn't doubting a Company report!</p> - -<p>"As his dependent, Rena, you applied for subsistence benefits on his -Blue Blanket policies, as well as war-risk benefits under the Blue -Bolt. Both applications were refused; the Blue Blanket because your -father is technically not hospitalized; the Blue Bolt, as well as all -your other personal policies, was cancelled, because of—" I stuttered -over it—"of activities against the best interest of the Company. -Specifically, giving aid and comfort to a known troublemaker whose name -is given here as Slovetski." I showed her the cancellation sheet I had -stolen from the files.</p> - -<p>She shrugged. "This much I know, Tom," she said.</p> - -<p>"Why?" I demanded. "This man is believed to have been instrumental in -inciting the war with Sicily!"</p> - -<p>She flared, "Tom, that's a lie! Slovetski is an old friend of my -father's—they studied together in Berlin, many years ago. He is -utterly, completely against war—any war!"</p> - -<p>I hesitated. "Well, let's put that aside. But you realize that, in -view of this, the Company can maintain—quite properly in a technical -sense—that you contributed to the war, and therefore you can't collect -Blue Bolt compensation for a war you helped bring about. You were -warned, you see. You can't even say that you didn't know what you were -doing."</p> - -<p>"Tom," Rena's voice was infinitely patient and sad. "I knew what I was -doing."</p> - -<p>"In that case, Rena, you have to admit that it seems fair enough. -Still, perhaps we can get something for you—even if only a refund of -your premiums. The Company doesn't always follow the letter of the law, -there are always exceptions, so—"</p> - -<p>Her expression stopped me. She was smiling, but it was the tortured -smile of Prometheus contemplating the cosmic jest that was ripping out -his vitals.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I asked uncertainly, "Don't you believe me?"</p> - -<p>"Believe you, Tom? Indeed I do." She laughed out loud that time. "After -what happened to my father, I assure you, Tom, I am certain that the -Company doesn't always follow the law."</p> - -<p>I shook my head quickly. "No, you don't understand. I—"</p> - -<p>"I understand quite well." She studied me for a moment, then patted my -hand. "Let us talk of something else."</p> - -<p>"Won't you tell me why your policy was cancelled?"</p> - -<p>She said evenly, "It's in the file. Because I was a bad girl."</p> - -<p>"But why? Why—"</p> - -<p>"Because, Tom. Please, no more. I know you are trying to be just as -helpful as you can, but there is no help you can give."</p> - -<p>"You don't make it easy, Rena."</p> - -<p>"It can't be easy! You see, I admit everything. I was warned. I -helped an old friend whom the Company wanted to—shall we say—treat -for radiation sickness? So there is no question that my policy can be -cancelled. All legal. It is not the only one of its kind, you know. So -why discuss it?"</p> - -<p>"Why shouldn't we?"</p> - -<p>Her expression softened. "Because—because we do not agree. And never -shall."</p> - -<p>I stared at her blankly. She was being very difficult. Really, I -shouldn't be bothering with her, someone I barely knew, someone I -hadn't even heard of until—</p> - -<p>That reminded me. I said, "Rena, how did you know my name?"</p> - -<p>Her eyes went opaque. "Know your name, Tom? Why, Mr. Gogarty introduced -us."</p> - -<p>"No. You knew of me before that. Come clean, Rena. Please."</p> - -<p>She said flatly, "I don't know what you mean." She was beginning to act -agitated. I had seen her covertly glancing at her watch several times; -now she held it up openly—ostentatiously, in fact. "I am sorry, but -you'd better go," she said with a hint of anxiety in her voice. "Please -excuse me."</p> - -<p>Well, there seemed no good reason to stay. So I went—not happily; not -with any sense of accomplishment; and fully conscious of the figure I -cut to the unseen watcher in the other room, the man whose coffee I had -usurped.</p> - -<p>Because there was no longer a conjecture about whether there had been -such a person or not. I had heard him sneeze three times.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Back at my hotel, a red light was flashing on the phone as I let myself -in. I unlocked the play-back with my room key and got a recorded -message that Gogarty wanted me to phone him at once.</p> - -<p>He answered the phone on the first ring, looking like the wrath of God. -It took me a moment to recognize the symptoms; then it struck home.</p> - -<p>The lined gray face, the jittery twitching of the head, the slow, -tortured movements; here was a man with a classic textbook case of his -ailment. The evidence was medically conclusive. He had been building up -to a fancy drinking party, and something made him stop in the middle.</p> - -<p>There were few tortures worse than a grade-A hangover, but one of those -that qualified was the feeling of having the drink die slowly, going -through the process of sobering up without the anesthetic of sleep.</p> - -<p>He winced as the scanning lights from the phone hit him. "Wills," he -said sourly. "About time. Listen, you've got to go up to Anzio. We've -got a distinguished visitor, and he wants to talk to you."</p> - -<p>"Me?"</p> - -<p>"You! He knows you—his name is Defoe."</p> - -<p>The name crashed over me; I hadn't expected that, of all things. He was -a member of the Council of Underwriters! I thought they never ventured -far from the Home Office. In fact, I thought they never had a moment to -spare from the awesome duties of running the Company.</p> - -<p>Gogarty explained. "He appeared out of nowhere at Carmody Field. I was -still in Caserta! Just settling down to a couple of drinks with Susan, -and they phoned me to say Chief Underwriter Defoe is on my doorstep!"</p> - -<p>I cut in, "What does he want?"</p> - -<p>Gogarty puffed his plump cheeks. "How do I know? He doesn't like the -way things are going, I guess. Well, I don't like them either! But I've -been twenty-six years with the Company, and if he thinks.... Snooping -and prying. There are going to be some changes in the office, I can -tell you. Somebody's been passing on all kinds of lying gossip and—" -He broke off and stared at me calculatingly as an idea hit him.</p> - -<p>Then he shook his head. "No. Couldn't be you, Wills, could it? You only -got here, and Defoe's obviously been getting this stuff for weeks. -Maybe months. Still—Say, how did you come to know him?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was none of his business. I said coldly, "At the Home Office. I -guess I'll take the morning plane up to Anzio, then."</p> - -<p>"The hell you will. You'll take the night train. It gets you there an -hour earlier." Gogarty jerked his head righteously—then winced and -clutched his temple. He said miserably, "Oh, damn. Tom, I don't like -all of this. I think something happened to Hammond."</p> - -<p>I repeated, "Happened? What could happen to him?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. But I found out a few things. He's been seen with some -mighty peculiar people in Caserta. What's this about somebody with a -gun waiting at the office for him when you were there?"</p> - -<p>It took a moment for me to figure out what he was talking about. "Oh," -I said, "you mean the man at the car? I didn't know he had a gun, for -certain."</p> - -<p>"I do," Gogarty said shortly. "The expediters tried to pick him up -today, to question him about Hammond. He shot his way out."</p> - -<p>I told Gogarty what I knew, although it wasn't much. He listened -abstractedly and, when I had finished, he sighed. "Well, that's no -help," he grumbled. "Better get ready to catch your train."</p> - -<p>I nodded and reached to cut off the connection. He waved -half-heartedly. "Oh, yes," he added, "give my regards to Susan if you -see her."</p> - -<p>"Isn't she here?"</p> - -<p>He grimaced. "Your friend Defoe said he needed a secretary. He -requisitioned her."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I boarded the Anzio train from the same platform where I had seen -Zorchi dive under the wheels. But this was no sleek express; it was an -ancient three-car string that could not have been less than fifty years -out of date. The cars were not even air-conditioned.</p> - -<p>Sleep was next to impossible, so I struck up a conversation with an -expediter-officer. He was stand-offish at first but, when he found out -I was a Claims Adjuster, he mellowed and produced some interesting -information.</p> - -<p>It was reasonable that Defoe would put aside his other duties and make -a quick visit to Anzio, because Anzio seemed to need someone to do -something about it pretty badly. My officer was part of a new levy -being sent up there; the garrison was being doubled; there had been -trouble. He was vague about what kind of "trouble" it had been, but -it sounded like mob violence. I mentioned Caserta and the near-riot I -had been in; the officer's eyes hooded over, and about five minutes -after that he pointedly leaned back and pulled his hat over his eyes. -Evidently it was not good form to discuss actual riots.</p> - -<p>I accepted the rebuke, but I was puzzled in my mind as I tried to get -some sleep for myself.</p> - -<p>What kind of a place was this Naples, where mobs rioted against the -Company and even intelligent-seeming persons like Renata dell'Angela -appeared to have some reservations about it?</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">V</p> - -<p>I slept, more or less, for an hour or so in that cramped coach seat. -I was half asleep when the train-expediter nudged my elbow and said, -"Anzio."</p> - -<p>It was early—barely past daybreak. It was much too early to find a -cab. I got directions from a drowsing stationmaster and walked toward -the vaults.</p> - -<p>The "clinic," as the official term went, was buried in the feet of the -hills just beyond the beaches. I was astonished at the size of it. Not -because it was so large; on the contrary. It was, as far as I could -see, only a broad, low shed.</p> - -<p>Then it occurred to me that the vaults were necessarily almost entirely -underground, for the sake of economy in keeping them down to the -optimum suspendee temperature. It was safe enough and simple enough -to put a man in suspended animation but, as I understood it, it was -necessary to be sure that the suspendees never got much above fifty -degrees temperature for any length of time. Above that, they had an -unwelcome tendency to decay.</p> - -<p>This was, I realized, the first full-scale "clinic" I had ever seen. -I had known that the Company had hundreds, perhaps thousands, of them -scattered all over the world.</p> - -<p>I had heard that the Company had enough of them, mostly in -out-of-the-way locations, to deep-freeze the entire human race at once, -though that seemed hardly reasonable.</p> - -<p>I had even heard some ugly, never-quite-made-clear stories about <i>why</i> -the Company had so many clinics ... but when people began hinting -at such ridiculous unpleasantness, I felt it was my duty to make it -clear that I wanted to hear no subversive talk. So I had never got the -details—and certainly would never have believed them for a moment if I -had.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was very early in the morning, as I say, but it seemed that I was -not the first to arrive at the clinic. On the sparse grass before the -main entrance, half a dozen knots of men and women were standing around -apathetically. Some of them glared at me as I came near them, for -reasons I did not understand; others merely stared.</p> - -<p>I heard a hoarse whisper as I passed one group of middle-aged women. -One of them was saying, "Benedetto non é morte." She seemed to be -directing it to me; but it meant nothing. The only comment that came to -my somewhat weary mind was, "So what if Benedetto isn't dead?"</p> - -<p>A huge armed expediter, yawning and scratching, let me in to the -executive office. I explained that I had been sent for by Mr. Defoe. -I had to wait until Mr. Defoe was ready to receive me and was finally -conducted to a suite of rooms.</p> - -<p>This might have once been an authentic clinic; it had the aseptic -appearance of a depressing hospital room. One for, say, Class-Cs with -terminal myasthenia. Now, though, it had been refitted as a private -guest suite, with an attempt at luxurious drapes and deep stuffed -armchairs superimposed on the basic adjustable beds and stainless steel -plumbing.</p> - -<p>I hadn't seen Defoe in some time, but he hadn't changed at all. -He was, as always, the perfect model of a Company executive of -general-officer rank. He was formal, but not unyielding. He was tall, -distinguished-gray at the temples, spare, immaculately outfitted in the -traditional vest and bow tie.</p> - -<p>I recalled our first meeting. He was from the side of Marianna's family -that she talked about, and she fluttered around for three whole days, -checking our Blue Plate policies for every last exotic dish we could -squeeze out to offer him, planning the television programs allowed -under our entertainment policies, selecting the most respectable of -our friends—"acquaintances" would be a better description; Marianna -didn't make friends easily—to make up a dinner party. He'd arrived -at the stroke of the hour he was due, and had brought with him what -was undoubtedly his idea of a princely gift for newly-weds—a paid-up -extra-coverage maternity benefit rider on our Blue Blanket policies.</p> - -<p>We thanked him effusively. And, for my part, sincerely. That was before -I had known Marianna's views on children; she had no intentions of -raising a family.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>As I walked in on Defoe in his private suite at the clinic, he was -standing with his back to me, at a small washstand, peering at his -reflection in a mirror. He appeared to have finished shaving. I rubbed -my own bristled chin uneasily.</p> - -<p>He said over his shoulder, "Good morning, Thomas. Sit down."</p> - -<p>I sat on the edge of an enormous wing chair. He pursed his lips, -stretched the skin under his chin and, when he seemed perfectly -satisfied the job was complete, he said as though he were continuing a -conversation, "Fill me in on your interview with Zorchi, Thomas."</p> - -<p>It was the first I'd known he'd ever <i>heard</i> of Zorchi. I hesitantly -began to tell him about the meeting in the hospital. It did not, I -knew, do me very much credit, but it simply didn't occur to me to try -to make my own part look better. I suppose that if I thought of the -matter at all, I simply thought that Defoe would instantly detect any -attempt to gloss things over. He hardly seemed to be paying attention -to me, though; he was preoccupied with the remainder of his morning -ritual—carefully massaging his face with something fragrant, brushing -his teeth with a maddening, old-fashioned insistence on careful -strokes, combing his hair almost strand by strand.</p> - -<p>Then he took a small bottle with a daub attached to the stopper and -touched it to the distinguished gray at his temples.</p> - -<p>I spluttered in the middle of a word; I had never thought of the -possibility that the handsomely grayed temples of the Company's senior -executives, as inevitable as the vest or the watch chain, were equally -a part of the uniform! Defoe gave me a long inquiring look in the -mirror; I coughed and went on with a careful description of Zorchi's -temper tantrum.</p> - -<p>Defoe turned to me and nodded gravely. There was neither approval nor -disapproval. He had asked for information and the information had been -received.</p> - -<p>He pressed a communicator button and ordered breakfast. The microphone -must have been there, but it was invisible. He sat down at a small, -surgical-looking table, leaned back and folded his hands.</p> - -<p>"Now," he said, "tell me what happened in Caserta just before Hammond -disappeared."</p> - -<p>Talking to Defoe had something of the quality of shouting down a well. -I collected my thoughts and told him all I knew on the riot at the -branch office.</p> - -<p>While I was talking, Defoe's breakfast arrived. He didn't know I hadn't -eaten anything, of course—I say "of course" because I know he couldn't -have known, he didn't ask. I looked at it longingly, but all my looking -didn't alter the fact that there was only one plate, one cup, one set -of silverware.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He ate his breakfast as methodically as he'd brushed his teeth. I doubt -if it took him five minutes. Since I finished the Caserta story in -about three, the last couple of minutes were in dead silence, Defoe -eating, me sitting mute as a disconnected jukebox.</p> - -<p>Then he pushed the little table away, lit a cigarette and said, "You -may smoke if you wish, Thomas. Come in, Susan."</p> - -<p>He didn't raise his voice; and when, fifteen seconds later, Susan -Manchester walked in, he didn't look at all impressed with the -efficiency of his secretary, his intercom system, or himself. The -concealed microphone, it occurred to me, had heard him order breakfast -and request his secretary to walk in. It had undoubtedly heard—and -most probably recorded—every word I had said.</p> - -<p>How well they did things on the upper echelon of the Company!</p> - -<p>Susan looked—different. She was as blonde and pretty as ever. But she -wasn't bubbly. She smiled at me in passing and handed Defoe a typed -script, which he scanned carefully.</p> - -<p>He asked, "Nothing new on Hammond?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir," she said.</p> - -<p>"All right. You may leave this." She nodded and left. Defoe turned back -to me. "I have some news for you, Thomas. Hammond has been located."</p> - -<p>"That's good," I said. "Not too badly hung over, I hope."</p> - -<p>He gave me an arctic smile. "Hardly. He was found by a couple of -peasants who were picking grapes. He's dead."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">V</p> - -<p>Hammond dead! He had had his faults, but he was an officer of the -Company and a man I had met. Dead!</p> - -<p>I asked, "How? What happened?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you can tell me that, Thomas," said Defoe.</p> - -<p>I sat startledly erect, shocked by the significance of the words. I -said hotly, "Damn it, Mr. Defoe, you know I had nothing to do with -this! I've been all over the whole thing with you and I thought you -were on my side! Just because I said a lot of crazy things after -Marianna died doesn't mean I'm anti-Company—and it certainly doesn't -mean I'd commit murder. If you think that, then why the devil did you -put me in cadet school?"</p> - -<p>Defoe merely raised his hand by bending the wrist slightly; it was -enough to stop me, though. "Gently, Thomas. I don't think you did -it—that much should be obvious. And I put you in cadet school because -I had work for you."</p> - -<p>"But you said I knew something I was holding back."</p> - -<p>Defoe waggled the hand reprovingly. "I said you might be able to tell -me who killed Hammond. And so you might—but not yet. I count heavily -on you for help in this area, Thomas. There are two urgent tasks to be -done. Hammond's death—" he paused and shrugged, and the shrug was all -of Hammond's epitaph—"is only an incident in a larger pattern; we need -to work out the pattern itself."</p> - -<p>He glanced again at the typed list Susan had handed him. "I find that I -can stay in the Naples area for only a short time; the two tasks must -be done before I leave. I shall handle one myself. The other I intend -to delegate to you.</p> - -<p>"First we have the unfortunate situation in regard to the state of -public morale. Unfortunate? Perhaps I should say disgraceful. There is -quite obviously a nucleus of troublemakers at work, Thomas, and Gogarty -has not had the wit to find them and take the appropriate steps. -Someone else must. Second, this Zorchi is an unnecessary annoyance. I -do not propose to let the Company be annoyed, Thomas. Which assignment -would you prefer?"</p> - -<p>I said hesitantly, "I don't know if Mr. Gogarty would like me to—"</p> - -<p>"Gogarty is an ass! If he had not blundered incessantly since he took -over the district, I should not have had to drop important work to come -here."</p> - -<p>I thought for a second. Digging out an undercover ring of troublemakers -didn't sound particularly easy. On the other hand, I had already tried -my luck with Zorchi.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you'd better try Zorchi," I said.</p> - -<p>"Try?" Defoe allowed himself to look surprised. "As you wish. I think -you will learn something from watching me handle it, Thomas. Shall we -join Signore Zorchi now?"</p> - -<p>"He's <i>here</i>?"</p> - -<p>Defoe said impatiently, "Of course, Thomas. Come along."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Zorchi's secretary was there, too. He was in a small anteroom, sitting -on a hard wooden chair; as we passed him, I saw the hostility in his -eyes. He didn't say a word.</p> - -<p>Beyond him, in an examination room, was Zorchi, slim, naked and -hideous, sitting on the edge of a surgical cot and trying not to look -ill at ease. He had been shaved from head to knee stumps. Esthetically, -at least, it had been a mistake. I never saw such a collection of skin -eruptions on a human.</p> - -<p>He burst out, faster than my language-school Italian could follow, in -a stream of argument and abuse. Defoe listened icily for a moment, -then shut him up in Italian as good as his own. "Answer questions; -otherwise keep quiet. I will not warn you again."</p> - -<p>I don't know if even Defoe could have stopped Zorchi under normal -conditions. But there is something about being naked in the presence of -fully dressed opponents that saps the will; and I guessed, too, that -the shaving had made Zorchi feel nakeder than ever before in his life. -I could see why he'd worn a beard and I wished he still had it.</p> - -<p>"Dr. Lawton," said Defoe, "have you completed your examination of the -insured?"</p> - -<p>A youngish medical officer of the Company said, "Yes, sir. I have the -slides and reports right here; they just came up from the laboratory." -He handed a stapled collection of photographic prints and papers to -Defoe, who took his own good time to examine them while the rest of us -stood and waited.</p> - -<p>Defoe finally put the papers down and nodded. "In a word, this bears -out our previous discussion."</p> - -<p>Lawton nodded. "If you will observe his legs, you will see that the -skin healing is complete; already a blastema has formed and—"</p> - -<p>"I know," Defoe said impatiently. "Signore Zorchi, I regret to say that -I have bad news for you."</p> - -<p>Zorchi waved his hand defiantly. "<i>You</i> are the bad news."</p> - -<p>Defoe ignored him. "You have a grave systemic imbalance. There is great -danger of serious ill effects."</p> - -<p>"To what?" snarled Zorchi. "The Company's bank account?"</p> - -<p>"No, Zorchi. To your life." Defoe shook his head. "There are -indications of malignancy."</p> - -<p>"Malignancy?" Zorchi looked startled. "What kind? Do you mean cancer?"</p> - -<p>"Exactly." Defoe patted his papers. "You see, Zorchi, healthy human -flesh does not grow like a salamander's tail."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The phone rang; impeccable in everything, Defoe waited while Dr. Lawton -nervously answered it. Lawton said a few short words, listened for a -moment and hung up, looking worried.</p> - -<p>He said: "The crowd outside is getting rather large. That was the -expediter-captain from the main gate. He says—"</p> - -<p>"I presume he has standing orders," Defoe said. "We need not concern -ourselves with that, need we?"</p> - -<p>"Well—" The doctor looked unhappy.</p> - -<p>"Now, Zorchi," Defoe went on, dismissing Lawton utterly, "do you enjoy -life?"</p> - -<p>"I despise it!" Zorchi spat to emphasize how much.</p> - -<p>"But you cling to it. You would not like to die, would you? Worse -still, you would not care to live indefinitely with carcinoma eating -you piece by piece."</p> - -<p>Zorchi just glowered suspiciously.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps we can cure you, however," Defoe went on reflectively. "It is -by no means certain. I don't want to raise false hopes. But there is -the possibility—"</p> - -<p>"The possibility that you will cure me of collecting on my policies, -eh?" Zorchi demanded belligerently. "You are crazy, Defoe. Never!"</p> - -<p>Defoe looked at him for a thoughtful moment. To Lawton, he said: "Have -you this man's claim warranty? It has the usual application for medical -treatment, I presume?" He nodded as Lawton confirmed it. "You see, -Mr. Zorchi? As a matter of routine, no claim can be paid unless the -policyholder submits to our medical care. You signed the usual form, -so—"</p> - -<p>"One moment! You people never put me through this before! Did you -change the contract on me?"</p> - -<p>"No, Signore Zorchi. The same contract, but this time we will enforce -it. I think I should warn you of something, though."</p> - -<p>He riffled through the papers and found a photographic print to show -Zorchi. "This picture isn't you, Signore. It is a picture of a newt. -The doctor will explain it to you."</p> - -<p>The print was an eight-by-ten glossy of a little lizard with something -odd about its legs. Puzzled, Zorchi held it as though the lizard were -alive and venomous. But as the doctor spoke, the puzzlement turned into -horror and fury.</p> - -<p>"What Mr. Defoe means," said Lawton, "is that totipotency—that is, -the ability to regenerate lost tissues, as you can, even when entire -members are involved—is full of unanswered riddles. We have found, -for instance, that X-ray treatment on your leg helps a new leg to form -rapidly, just as it does on the leg of the salamanders. The radiation -appears to stimulate the formation of the blastema, which—well, never -mind the technical part. It speeds things up."</p> - -<p>His eyes gleamed with scientific interest. "But we tried the experiment -of irradiating limbs that had not been severed. It worked the same way, -oddly enough. New limbs were generated <i>even though the old ones were -still there</i>. That's why the salamander in the photo has four hands on -one of its limbs—nine legs altogether, counting that half-formed one -just beside the tail. Curious-looking little beast, isn't it?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Defoe cleared his throat. "I only mention, Signore, that the standard -treatment for malignancy is X-radiation."</p> - -<p>Zorchi's eyes flamed—rage battling it out with terror. He said -shrilly, "But you can't make a laboratory animal out of me! I'm a -policyholder!"</p> - -<p>"Nature did it, Signore Zorchi, not us," Defoe said.</p> - -<p>Zorchi's eyes rolled up in his head and closed; for a moment, I -thought he had fainted and leaped forward to catch him rather than let -his legless body crash to the floor. But he hadn't fainted. He was -muttering, half aloud, sick with fear, "For the love of Mary, Defoe! -Please, please, I beg you! Please!"</p> - -<p>It was too much for me. I said, shaking with rage, "Mr. Defoe, you -can't force this man to undergo experimental radiation that might make -a monster out of him! I insist that you reconsider!"</p> - -<p>Defoe threw his head back. "<i>What, Thomas?</i>" he snapped.</p> - -<p>I said firmly, "He has no one here to advise him—I'll take the job. -Zorchi, listen to me! You've signed the treatment application and he's -right enough about that—you can't get out of it. <i>But you don't have -to take this treatment!</i> Every policyholder has the right to refuse -any new and unguaranteed course of treatment, no matter what the -circumstances. All you've got to do is agree to go into suspension in -the va—in the clinic here, pending such time as your condition can be -infallibly cured. Do it, man! Don't let them make you a freak—demand -suspension! What have you got to lose?"</p> - -<p>I never saw a man go so to pieces as Zorchi, when he realized how -nearly Defoe had trapped him into becoming a guinea pig. Whimpering -thanks to me, he hastily signed the optional agreement for suspended -animation and, as quickly as I could, I left him there.</p> - -<p>Defoe followed me. We passed the secretary in the anteroom while Dr. -Lawton was explaining the circumstances to him; the man was stricken -with astonishment, almost too paralyzed to sign the witnessing form -Defoe had insisted on. I knew the form well—I had been about to sign -one for Marianna when, at the last moment, she decided against the -vaults in favor of the experimental therapy that hadn't worked.</p> - -<p>Outside in the hall, Defoe stopped and confronted me. I braced myself -for the blast to end all blasts.</p> - -<p>I could hardly believe my eyes. The great stone face was smiling!</p> - -<p>"Thomas," he said inexplicably, "that was masterful. I couldn't have -done better myself."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">VI</p> - -<p>We walked silently through the huge central waiting room of the clinic.</p> - -<p>There should have been scores of relatives of suspendees milling -around, seeking information—there was, I knew, still a steady shipment -of suspendees coming in from the local hospitals; I had seen it myself. -But there were hardly more than a dozen or so persons in sight, with a -single clerk checking their forms and answering their questions.</p> - -<p>It was too quiet. Defoe thought so, too; I saw his frown.</p> - -<p>Now that I had had a few moments to catch my breath, I realized that I -had seen a master judoist at work. It was all out of the textbooks—as -a fledgling Claims Adjuster, I had had the basic courses in handling -difficult cases—but not one man in a million could apply textbook -rules as skillfully and successfully as Defoe did with Zorchi.</p> - -<p>Push a man hard and he will lunge back; push him hard enough and -persistently enough, and he will lunge back farther than his vision -carries him, right to the position you planned for him in the first -place. And I, of course, had been only a tool in Defoe's hand; by -interceding for Zorchi, I had tricked the man into the surrender Defoe -wanted.</p> - -<p>And he had complimented me for it!</p> - -<p>I couldn't help wondering, though, whether the compliment Defoe gave me -was part of some still subtler scheme....</p> - -<p>Defoe nodded curtly to the expediter-captain at the door, who saluted -and pressed the teleswitch that summoned Defoe's limousine.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Defoe turned to me. "I have business in Rome and must leave at once. -You will have to certify Zorchi's suspension this afternoon; since I -won't be here, you'll have to come back to the clinic for it. After -that, Thomas, you can begin your assignment."</p> - -<p>I said uncertainly, "What—where shall I begin?"</p> - -<p>One eyebrow lifted a trifle. "Where? Wherever you think proper, Thomas. -Or must I handle this myself?"</p> - -<p>The proper answer, and the one I longed to make, was "Yes." Instead I -said, "Not at all, Mr. Defoe. It's only that I didn't even know there -was an undercover group until you told me about it a few moments ago; I -don't know exactly where to start. Gogarty never mentioned—"</p> - -<p>"Gogarty," he cut in, "is very likely to be relieved as District -Administrator before long. I should like to replace him with -someone already on the scene—" he glanced at me to be sure I -understood—"provided, that is, that I can find someone of proven -competence. Someone who has the ability to handle this situation -without the necessity of my personal intervention."</p> - -<p>The limousine arrived then, with an armed expediter riding beside the -chauffeur. Defoe allowed me to open the door for him and follow him in.</p> - -<p>"Do you understand me?" he asked as the driver started off.</p> - -<p>"I think so," I said.</p> - -<p>"Good. I do not suppose that Gogarty has given you any information -about the malcontents in this area."</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"It may be for the best; his information is clearly not good." Defoe -stared broodingly out the window at the silent groups of men and women -on the grass before the clinic. "Your information is there," he said -as they passed out of sight. "Learn what you can. Act when you know -enough. And, Thomas—"</p> - -<p>"Yes?"</p> - -<p>"Have you given thought to your future?"</p> - -<p>I shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I've only been a Claims Adjuster a -little while, you know. I suppose that perhaps I might eventually get -promoted, even become a District Administrator—"</p> - -<p>He looked at me impersonally. "Dream higher," he advised.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I stood watching after Defoe's limousine, from the marquee of the hotel -where he had left me to take a room and freshen up. <i>Dream higher.</i> He -had the gift of intoxication.</p> - -<p>Higher than a District Administrator! It could mean only—the Home -Office.</p> - -<p>Well, it was not impossible, after all. The Home Office jobs had to -go to someone; the super-men who held them now—the Defoes and the -Carmodys and the dozen or more others who headed up departments or -filled seats on the Council of Underwriters—couldn't live forever. And -the jobs had to be filled by someone.</p> - -<p>Why not me? Only one reason, really. I was not a career man. I hadn't -had the early academy training from adolescence on; I had come to the -service of the Company itself relatively late in life. The calendar -legislated against me.</p> - -<p>Of course, I thought to myself, I was in a pretty good position, in a -way, because of Defoe's evident interest in me. With him helping and -counseling me, it might be easier.</p> - -<p>I thought that and then I stopped myself, shocked. I was thinking in -terms of personal preferment. That was not the Company way! If I had -learned anything in my training, I had learned that Advancement was on -merit alone.</p> - -<p>Advancement <i>had</i> to be on merit alone ... else the Company became an -oligarchy, deadly and self-perpetuating.</p> - -<p>Shaken, I sat in the dingy little hotel room that was the best the town -of Anzio had for me and opened my little Black Book. I thumbed through -the fine-printed pages of actuarial tables and turned to the words of -Millen Carmody, Chief Underwriter, in the preface. They were the words -that had been read to me and the others at our graduation at the Home -Office, according to the tradition:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p><i>Remember always that the Company serves humanity, not the reverse. The -Company's work is the world's work. The Company can end, forever, the -menace of war and devastation; but it must not substitute a tyranny -of its own. Corruption breeds tyrants. Corruption has no place in the -Company.</i></p></div> - -<p>They were glorious words. I read them over again, and stared at the -portrait of Underwriter Carmody that was the frontispiece of the -handbook. It was a face to inspire trust—wise and human, grave, but -with warmth in the wide-spaced eyes.</p> - -<p>Millen Carmody was not a man you could doubt. As long as men like -him ran the Company—and he was the boss of them all, <i>the</i> Chief -Underwriter, the highest position the Company had to offer—there could -be no question of favoritism or corruption.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>After eating, I shaved, cleaned up a little and went back to the clinic.</p> - -<p>There was trouble in the air, no question of it. More expediters were -in view, scattered around the entrance, a dozen, cautious yards away -from the nearest knots of civilians. Cars with no official company -markings, but with armor-glass so thick that it seemed yellow, were -parked at the corners. And people were everywhere.</p> - -<p>People who were quiet. Too quiet. There were some women—but not enough -to make the proportion right. And there were no children.</p> - -<p>I could almost feel the thrust of their eyes as I entered the clinic.</p> - -<p>Inside, the aura of strain was even denser. If anything, the place -looked more normal than it had earlier; there were more people. -The huge waiting room was packed and a dozen sweating clerks were -interviewing long lines of persons. But here, as outside, the feeling -was wrong; the crowds weren't noisy enough; they lacked the nervous -boisterousness they should have had.</p> - -<p>Dr. Lawton looked worried. He greeted me and showed me to a small room -near the elevators. There was a cocoon of milky plastic on a wheeled -table; I looked closer, and inside the cocoon, recognizable through the -clear plastic over the face, was the waxlike body of Luigi Zorchi. The -eyes were closed and he was completely still. I would have thought him -dead if I had not known he was under the influence of the drugs used in -the suspension of life in the vaults.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus5.jpg" width="600" height="388" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>I said: "Am I supposed to identify him or something?"</p> - -<p>"We know who he is," Lawton snorted. "Sign the commitment, that's all."</p> - -<p>I signed the form he handed me, attesting that Luigi Zorchi, -serial number such-and-such, had requested and was being granted -immobilization and suspension in lieu of cash medical benefits. They -rolled the stretcher-cart away, with its thick foam-plastic sack -containing the inanimate Zorchi.</p> - -<p>"Anything else?" I asked.</p> - -<p>Lawton shook his head moodily. "Nothing you can help with. I told Defoe -this was going to happen!"</p> - -<p>"What?"</p> - -<p>He glared at me. "Man, didn't you just come in through the main -entrance? Didn't you see that mob?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I wouldn't call it a mob," I began.</p> - -<p>"You wouldn't <i>now</i>," he broke in. "But you will soon enough. They're -working themselves up. Or maybe they're waiting for something. But it -means trouble, I promise, and I warned Defoe about it. And he just -stared at me as if I was some kind of degenerate."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I said sharply, "What are you afraid of? Right outside, you've got -enough expediters to fight a war."</p> - -<p>"Afraid? Me?" He looked insulted. "Do you think I'm worried about my -own skin, Wills? No, sir. But do you realize that we have suspendees -here who need protection? Eighty thousand of them. A mob like that—"</p> - -<p>"Eighty <i>thousand</i>?" I stared at him. The war had lasted only a few -weeks!</p> - -<p>"Eighty thousand. A little more, if anything. And every one of them -is a ward of the Company as long as he's suspended. Just think of the -damage suits, Wills."</p> - -<p>I said, still marveling at the enormous number of casualties out of -that little war, "Surely the suspendees are safe here, aren't they?"</p> - -<p>"Not against mobs. The vaults can handle anything that might happen -in the way of disaster. I don't think an H-bomb right smack on top of -them would disturb more than the top two or three decks at most. But -you never know what mobs will do. If they once get in here—And Defoe -wouldn't listen to me!"</p> - -<p>As I went back into the hall, passing the main entrance, the explosion -burst.</p> - -<p>I stared out over the heads of the dreadfully silent throng in the -entrance hall, looking toward the glass doors, as was everyone else -inside. Beyond the doors, an arc of expediters was retreating toward -us; they paused, fired a round of gas-shells over the heads of the mob -outside, and retreated again.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus6.jpg" width="600" height="274" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Then the mob was on them, in a burst of screaming fury. Hidden gas guns -appeared, and clubs, and curious things that looked like slingshots. -The crowd broke for the entrance. The line of expediters wavered but -held. There was a tangle of hand-to-hand fights, each one a vicious -struggle. But the expediters were professionals; outnumbered forty to -one, they savagely chopped down their attackers with their hands, their -feet and the stocks of their guns. The crowd hesitated. No shot had yet -been fired, except toward the sky.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The air whined and shook. From low on the horizon, a needle-nosed jet -thundered in. A plane! Aircraft never flew in the restricted area over -the Company's major installations. Aircraft didn't barrel in at treetop -height, fast and low, without a hint of the recognition numbers every -aircraft had to carry.</p> - -<p>From its belly sluiced a silvery milt of explosives as it came in over -the heads of the mob, peeled off and up and away, then circled out -toward the sea for another approach. A hail of tiny blasts rattled in -the clear space between the line of expediters and the entrance. The -big doors shook and cracked.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The expediters stared white-faced at the ship. And the crowd began -firing. An illegal hard-pellet gun peppered the glass of the doors with -pock-marks. The guarding line of expediters was simply overrun.</p> - -<p>Inside the waiting room, where I stood frozen, hell broke out. The -detachment of expediters, supervising the hundreds inside leaped for -the doors to fight back the surging mob. But the mob inside the doors, -the long orderly lines before the interviewing clerks, now split into -a hundred screaming, milling centers of panic. Some rushed toward the -doors; some broke for the halls of the vaults themselves. I couldn't -see what was going on outside any more. I was swamped in a rush of -women panicked out of their senses.</p> - -<p>Panic was like a plague. I saw doctors and orderlies struggling -against the tide, a few scattered expediters battling to turn back the -terrified rush. But I was swept along ahead of them all, barely able to -keep my feet. An expediter fell a yard from me. I caught up his gun and -began striking out. For this was what Lawton had feared—the mob loose -in the vaults!</p> - -<p>I raced down a side corridor, around a corner, to the banked elevators -that led to the deeps of the clinic. There was fighting there, but -the elevator doors were closed. Someone had had the wit to lock them -against the mob. But there were stairs; I saw an emergency door only -a few yards away. I hesitated only long enough to convince myself, -through the fear, that my duty was to the Company and to the protection -of its helpless wards below. I bolted through the door and slammed -it behind me, spun the levers over and locked it. In a moment, I was -running down a long ramp toward the cool immensities of the vaults.</p> - -<p>If Lawton had not mentioned the possible consequences of violence -to the suspendees, I suppose I would have worried only about my own -skin. But here I was. I stared around, trying to get my bearings. I -was in a sort of plexus of hallways, an open area with doors on all -sides leading off to the vaults. I was alone; the noise from above and -outside was cut off completely.</p> - -<p>No, I was not alone! I heard running footsteps, light and quick, from -another ramp. I turned in time to see a figure speed down it, pause -only a second at its base, and disappear into one of the vaults. It -was a woman, but not a woman in nurse's uniform. Her back had been to -me, yet I could see that one hand held a gas gun, the other something -glittering and small.</p> - -<p>I followed, not quite believing what I had seen. For I had caught only -a glimpse of her face, far off and from a bad angle—but I was as sure -as ever I could be that it was Rena dell'Angela!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She didn't look back. She was hurrying against time, hurrying toward a -destination that obsessed her thoughts. I followed quietly enough, but -I think I might have thundered like an elephant herd and still been -unheard.</p> - -<p>We passed a strange double-walled door with a warning of some sort -lettered on it in red; then she swung into a side corridor where the -passage was just wide enough for one. On either side were empty tiers -of shelves waiting for suspendees. I speeded up to reach the corner -before she could disappear.</p> - -<p>But she wasn't hurrying now. She had come to a bay of shelves where a -hundred or so bodies lay wrapped in their plastic sacks, each to his -own shelf. Dropping to her knees, she began checking the tags on the -cocoons at the lowest level.</p> - -<p>She whispered something sharp and imploring. Then, straightening -abruptly, she dropped the gas gun and took up the glittering thing -in her other hand. Now I could see that it was a hypodermic kit in a -crystal case. From it she took a little flask of purplish liquid and, -fingers shaking, shoved the needle of the hypodermic into the plastic -stopper of the vial.</p> - -<p>Moving closer, I said: "It won't work, Rena."</p> - -<p>She jumped and swung to face me, holding the hypodermic like a -stiletto. Seeing my face, she gasped and wavered.</p> - -<p>I stepped by her and looked down at the tag on the cocooned figure. -<i>Benedetto dell'Angela, Napoli</i>, it said, and then the long string of -serial numbers that identified him.</p> - -<p>It was what I had guessed.</p> - -<p>"It won't work," I repeated. "Be smart about this, Rena. You can't -revive him without killing him."</p> - -<p>Rena half-closed her eyes. She whispered, "Would death be worse than -this?"</p> - -<p>I hadn't expected this sort of superstitious nonsense from her. I -started to answer, but she had me off guard. In a flash, she raked the -glittering needle toward my face and, as I stumbled back involuntarily, -her other hand lunged for the gas gun I had thrust into my belt.</p> - -<p>Only luck saved me. Not being in a holster, the gun's front sight -caught and I had the moment I needed to cuff her away. She gasped and -spun up against the tiers of shelves. The filled hypodermic shattered -against the floor, spilling the contents into a purple, gleaming pool -of fluorescence.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Rena took a deep breath and stood erect. There were tears in her eyes -again.</p> - -<p>She said in a detached voice: "Well done, Mr. Wills."</p> - -<p>"Are you crazy?" I crackled. "This is your father. Do you want to kill -him? It takes a doctor to revive him. You're an educated woman, Rena, -not a witch-ridden peasant! You know better than this!"</p> - -<p>She laughed—a cold laugh. "Educated! A peasant woman would have kicked -you to death and succeeded. I'm educated, all right! Two hundred men, a -plane, twenty women risking themselves up there to get me through the -door. All our plans—and I can't remember a way to kill you in time. -I'm too educated to hate you, Claims Adjuster Wills!" She choked on the -words. Then she shook her head dully. "Go ahead, turn me in and get it -over with."</p> - -<p>I took a deep breath. Turn her in? I hadn't thought that far ahead. -True, that was the obvious thing to do; she had confessed that the -whole riot outside was a diversion to get her down in the vaults, and -anyone who could summon up that sort of organized anti-Company violence -was someone who automatically became my natural enemy.</p> - -<p>But perhaps I was too educated and too soft as well. There had been -tears on her face, over her father's body. I could not remember having -heard that conspirators cried.</p> - -<p>And I sympathized a little. I had known what it was like to weep -over the body of someone I loved. Despite our difficulties, despite -everything, I would have done anything in the world to bring Marianna -back to life. I couldn't. Rena—she believed—could revive her father.</p> - -<p>I didn't want to turn her in.</p> - -<p>I <i>shouldn't</i> turn her in. It was my duty <i>not</i> to turn her in, for -hadn't Defoe himself ordered me to investigate the dissident movement -of which she was clearly a part? Wouldn't it be easier for me to win -her confidence, and trick her into revealing its secrets, than to have -her arrested?</p> - -<p>The answer, in all truth, was <i>No</i>. She was not a trickable girl, I was -sure. But it was, at least, a rationale, and I clung to it.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I coughed and said: "Rena, will you make a bargain?"</p> - -<p>She stared drearily. "Bargain?"</p> - -<p>"I have a room at the Umberto. If I get you out of here, will you go to -my room and wait for me there?"</p> - -<p>Her eyes narrowed sharply for a second. She parted her lips to say -something, but only nodded.</p> - -<p>"Your word, Rena? I don't want to turn you in."</p> - -<p>She looked helplessly at the purple spilled pool on the floor, and -wistfully at the sack that held her father. Then she said, "My word on -it. But you're a fool, Tom!"</p> - -<p>"I know it!" I admitted.</p> - -<p>I hurried her back up the ramp, back toward the violence upstairs. If -it was over, I would have to talk her out of the clinic, somehow cover -up the fact that she had been in the vaults. If it was still going on, -though—</p> - -<p>It was.</p> - -<p>We blended ourselves with the shouting, rioting knots. I dragged her -into the main waiting room, saw her thrust through the doors. Things -were quieting even then. And I saw two women hastening toward her -through the fight, and I do not think it was a coincidence that the -steam went out of the rioters almost at once.</p> - -<p>I stayed at the clinic until everything was peaceful again, though it -was hours.</p> - -<p>I wasn't fooling myself. I didn't have a shred of real reason for not -having her arrested. If she had information to give, I was not the type -to trick it out of her—even if she really was waiting at the Umberto, -which was, in itself, not likely. If I had turned her in, Defoe would -have had the information out of her in moments; but not I.</p> - -<p>She was an enemy of the Company.</p> - -<p>And I was unable to betray her.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">VII</p> - -<p>Dr. Lawton, who seemed to be Chief Medical Officer for Anzio Clinic, -said grimly: "This wasn't an accident. It was planned. The question is, -why?"</p> - -<p>The expediters had finished driving the rioters out of the clinic -itself, and gas guns were rapidly dispersing the few left outside the -entrance. At least thirty unconscious forms were scattered around—and -one or two that were worse than unconscious.</p> - -<p>I said, "Maybe they were hoping to loot the clinic." It wasn't a very -good lie. But then, I hadn't had much practice in telling lies to an -officer of the Company.</p> - -<p>Lawton pursed his lips and ignored the suggestion. "Tell me something, -Wills. What were you doing down below?"</p> - -<p>I said quickly, "Below? You mean a half an hour ago?"</p> - -<p>"That's what I mean." He was gentle, but—well, not exactly suspicious. -Curious.</p> - -<p>I improvised: "I—I thought I saw someone running down there. One -of the rioters. So I chased after her—after <i>him</i>," I corrected, -swallowing the word just barely in time.</p> - -<p>He nodded. "Find anything?"</p> - -<p>It was a tough question. Had I been seen going in or coming out? If it -was coming out—Rena had been with me.</p> - -<p>I took what we called a "calculated risk"—that is, I got a firm grip -on my courage and told a big fat and possibly detectable lie. I said, -"Nobody that I could find. But I still think I heard something. The -trouble is, I don't know the vaults very well. I was afraid I'd get -lost."</p> - -<p>Apparently it was on the way in that I had been spotted, for Lawton -said thoughtfully, "Let's take a look."</p> - -<p>We took a couple of battered expediters with us—I didn't regard them -as exactly necessary, but I couldn't see how I could tell Lawton -that. The elevators were working again, so we came out in a slightly -different part of the vaults than I had seen before; it was not -entirely acting on my part when I peered around.</p> - -<p>Lawton accepted my statement that I wasn't quite sure where I had heard -the noises, without argument. He accepted it all too easily; he sent -the expediters scouring the corridors at random.</p> - -<p>And, of course, one of them found the pool of spilled fluorescence -from the hypodermic needle I had knocked out of Rena's hand.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We stood there peering at the smear of purplish color, the shattered -hypodermic, Rena's gas gun.</p> - -<p>Lawton mused, "Looks like someone's trying to wake up some of our -sleepers. That's our standard antilytic, if I'm not mistaken." He -scanned the shelves. "Nobody missing around here. Take a look in the -next few sections of the tiers."</p> - -<p>The expediters saluted and left.</p> - -<p>"They won't find anyone missing," Lawton predicted. "And <i>that</i> means -we have to take a physical inventory of the whole damn clinic. Over -eighty thousand suspendees to check." He made a disgusted noise.</p> - -<p>I said, "Maybe they were scared off before they finished."</p> - -<p>"Maybe. Maybe not. We'll have to check, that's all."</p> - -<p>"Are you sure that stuff is to revive the suspendees?" I persisted. -"Couldn't it just have been someone wandering down here by mistake -during the commotion and—"</p> - -<p>"And carrying a hypodermic needle by mistake, and armed with a gas gun -by mistake. Sure, Wills."</p> - -<p>The expediters returned and Lawton looked at them sourly.</p> - -<p>They shook their heads. He shrugged. "Tell you what, Wills," he said. -"Let's go back to the office and—"</p> - -<p>He stopped, peering down the corridor. The last of our expediters was -coming toward us—not alone.</p> - -<p>"Well, what do you know!" said Lawton. "Wills, it looks like he's got -your fugitive!"</p> - -<p>The expediter was dragging a small writhing figure behind him; we could -hear whines and pleading. For a heart-stopping second, I thought it was -Rena, against all logic.</p> - -<p>But it wasn't. It was a quavery ancient, a bleary-eyed wreck of a man, -long past retirement age, shabbily dressed and obviously the sort who -cut his pension policies to the barest minimum—and then whined when -his old age was poverty-stricken.</p> - -<p>Lawton asked me: "This the man?"</p> - -<p>"I—I couldn't recognize him," I said.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Lawton turned to the weeping old man. "Who were you after?" he -demanded. All he got was sobbing pleas to let him go; all he was likely -to get was more of the same. The man was in pure panic.</p> - -<p>We got him up to one of the receiving offices on the upper level, half -carried by the expediters. Lawton questioned him mercilessly for half -an hour before giving up. The man was by then incapable of speech.</p> - -<p>He had said, as nearly as we could figure it out, only that he was -sorry he had gone into the forbidden place, he didn't mean to go -into the forbidden place, he had been sleeping in the shadow of the -forbidden place when fighting began and he fled inside.</p> - -<p>It was perfectly apparent to me that he was telling the truth—and, -more, that any diversionary riot designed to get <i>him</i> inside with -a hypodermic and gas gun would have been planned by maniacs, for I -doubted he could have found the trigger of the gun. But Lawton seemed -to think he was lying.</p> - -<p>It was growing late. Lawton offered to drive me to my hotel, leaving -the man in the custody of the expediters. On the way, out of curiosity, -I asked: "Suppose he had succeeded? Can you revive a suspendee as -easily as that, just by sticking a needle in his arm?"</p> - -<p>Lawton grunted. "Pretty near, that and artificial respiration. One case -in a hundred might need something else—heart massage or an incubator, -for instance. But most of the time an antilytic shot is enough."</p> - -<p>Then Rena had not been as mad as I thought.</p> - -<p>I said: "And do you think that old man could have accomplished -anything?"</p> - -<p>Lawton looked at me curiously. "Maybe."</p> - -<p>"Who do you suppose he was after?"</p> - -<p>Lawton said off-handedly. "He was right near Bay 100, wasn't he?"</p> - -<p>"Bay 100?" Something struck a chord; I remembered following Rena down -the corridor, passing a door that was odd in some way. Was the number -100 on that door? "Is that the one that's locked off, with the sign on -it that says anybody who goes in is asking for trouble?"</p> - -<p>"That's the one. Though," he added, "nobody is going to get in. That -door is triple-plate armor; the lock opens only to the personal -fingerprint pattern of Defoe and two or three others."</p> - -<p>"What's inside it that's so important?"</p> - -<p>He said coldly, "How would I know? I can't open the door." And that was -the end of the conversation. I knew <i>he</i> was lying.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I had changed my bet with myself on the way. I won it. Rena was in the -room waiting for me. She was sound asleep, stretched out on the bed. -She looked as sober-faced and intent in her sleep as a little girl—a -look I had noticed in Marianna's sleeping face once.</p> - -<p>It was astonishing how little I thought about Marianna any more.</p> - -<p>I considered very carefully before I rang for a bellboy, but it seemed -wisest to let her sleep and take my chances with the house detective, -if any. There was none, it turned out. In fact, the bellboy hardly -noticed her—whether out of indifference or because he was well aware -that I had signed for the room with an official travel-credit card of -the Company, it didn't much matter. He succeeded in conveying, without -saying a word, that the Blue Sky was the limit.</p> - -<p>I ordered dinner, waving away the menu and telling him to let the chef -decide. The chef decided well. Among other things, there was a bottle -of champagne in a bucket of ice.</p> - -<p>Rena woke up slowly at first, and then popped to a sitting position, -eyes wide. I said quickly, "Everything's all right. No one saw you at -the clinic."</p> - -<p>She blinked once. In a soft voice, she said, "Thank you." She sighed a -very small sigh and slipped off the bed.</p> - -<p>I realized as Rena was washing up, comparisons were always odious, -but—Well, if a strange man had found Marianna with her dress hitched -halfway up her thigh, asleep on his bed, he'd have been in for -something. What the "something" would be might depend on circumstances; -it might be a raging order to knock before he came in, it might only -be a storm of blushes and a couple of hours of meticulously prissy -behavior. But she wouldn't just let it slide. And Rena, by simply -disregarding it, was as modest as any girl could be.</p> - -<p>After all, I told myself, warming to the subject, it wasn't as if -I were some excitable adolescent. I could see a lovely girl's legs -without getting all stirred up. For that matter, I hardly even noticed -them, come to think of it. And if I <i>did</i> notice them, it was certainly -nothing of any importance; I had dismissed it casually, practically -forgotten it, in fact.</p> - -<p>She came back and said cheerfully, "I'm hungry!" And so, I realized, -was I.</p> - -<p>We started to eat without much discussion, except for the necessary -talk of the table. I felt very much at ease sitting across from her, -in spite of the fact that she had placed herself in opposition to -the Company. I felt relaxed and comfortable; nothing bothered me. -Certainly, I went on in my mind, I was as free and easy with her as -with any man; it didn't matter that she was an attractive girl at all. -I wasn't thinking of her in that way, only as someone who needed some -help.</p> - -<p>I came to. She was looking at me with friendly curiosity. She said, "Is -that an American idiom, Tom, when you said, 'Please pass the legs'?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We didn't open the champagne: it didn't seem quite appropriate. We had -not discussed anything of importance while we were eating, except that -I had told her about the old man; she evidently knew nothing about him. -She was concerned, but I assured her he was safe with the Company—what -did she think they were, barbarians? She didn't answer.</p> - -<p>But after dinner, with our coffee, I said: "Now let's get down to -business. What were you doing in the clinic?"</p> - -<p>"I was trying to rescue my father," she said.</p> - -<p>"Rescue, Rena? Rescue from what?"</p> - -<p>"Tom, please. You believe in the Company, do you not?"</p> - -<p>"Of course!"</p> - -<p>"And I do not. We shall never agree. I am grateful to you for not -turning me in, and I think perhaps I know what it cost you to do it. -But that is all, Tom."</p> - -<p>"But the Company—"</p> - -<p>"When you speak of the Company, what is it you see? Something shining -and wonderful? It is not that way with me; what I see is—rows of my -friends, frozen in the vaults or the expediters and that poor old man -you caught."</p> - -<p>There was no reasoning with her. She had fixed in her mind that all the -suspendees were the victims of some sinister brutality. Of course, it -wasn't like that at all.</p> - -<p>Suspension wasn't death; everyone knew that. In fact, it was the -antithesis of death. It <i>saved</i> lives by taking the maimed and sick and -putting them mercifully to sleep, until they could be repaired.</p> - -<p>True, their bodies grew cold, the lungs stopped pumping, the heart -stopped throbbing; true, no doctor could tell, on sight, whether a -suspendee was "alive" or "dead." The life processes were not entirely -halted, but they were slowed enormously—enough so that chemical -diffusion in the jellylike blood carried all the oxygen the body -needed. But there was a difference: The dead were dead, whereas the -suspendees could be brought back to life at any moment the Company -chose.</p> - -<p>But I couldn't make her see that. I couldn't even console her by -reminding her that the old man was a mere Class E. For so was she.</p> - -<p>I urged reasonably: "Rena, you think something is going on under the -surface. Tell me about it. Why do you think your father was put in -suspension?"</p> - -<p>"To keep him out of the way. Because the Company is afraid of him."</p> - -<p>I played a trump card: "Suppose I told you the <i>real</i> reason he's in -the vaults."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She was hit by that, I could tell. She was staring at me with wonder in -her eyes.</p> - -<p>"You don't have to speculate about it, Rena. I looked up his record, -you see."</p> - -<p>"You—you—"</p> - -<p>I nodded. "It's right there in black and white. They're trying to save -his life. He has radiation poisoning. He was a war casualty. It's -standard medical practice in cases like his to put them in suspension -for a while, until the level of radioactivity dies down and they can -safely be revived. Now what do you say?"</p> - -<p>She merely stared at me.</p> - -<p>I pressed on persuasively: "Rena, I don't mean to call your beliefs -superstitions or anything like that. Please understand me. You have -your own cultural heritage and—well, I know that it looks as though he -is some kind of 'undead,' or however you put it, in your folk stories. -I know there are legends of vampires and zombies and so on, but—"</p> - -<p>She was actually laughing. "You're thinking of Central Europe, Tom, -not Naples. And anyway—" she was laughing only with her eyes now—"I -do not believe that the legends say that vampires are produced by -intravenous injections of chlorpromazine and pethidine in a lytic -solution—which is, I believe, the current technique at the clinics."</p> - -<p>I flared peevishly: "Damn it, don't you want him saved?"</p> - -<p>The laughter was gone. She gently touched my hand. "I'm sorry. I don't -mean to be a shrew and that remark wasn't kind. Must we discuss it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes!"</p> - -<p>"Very well." She faced me, chin out and fierce. "My father does not -have radiation poisoning, Tom."</p> - -<p>"He does."</p> - -<p>"He does not! He is a prisoner, not a patient. He loved Naples. -That's why he was put to sleep—for fifty years, or a hundred, until -everything he knew and loved grows away from him and nobody cares what -he has to say any more. They won't kill him—they don't have to! They -just want him out of the way, because he sees the Company for what it -is."</p> - -<p>"And what is that?"</p> - -<p>"Tyranny, Tom," she said quietly.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I burst out, "Rena, that's silly! The Company is the hope of the world. -If you talk like that, you'll be in trouble. That's dangerous thinking, -young lady. It attacks the foundations of our whole society!"</p> - -<p>"Good! I was hoping it would!"</p> - -<p>We were shouting at each other like children. I took time to remember -one of the priceless rules out of the Adjusters' Handbook: <i>Never -lose your temper; think before you speak</i>. We glared at each other in -furious silence for a moment before I forced myself to simmer down.</p> - -<p>Only then did I remember that I needed to know something she might be -able to tell me. Organization, Defoe had said—an organization that -opposed the Company, that was behind Hammond's death and the riot at -the clinic and more, much more.</p> - -<p>"Rena, why did your friends kill Hammond?"</p> - -<p>Her poise was shaken. "Who?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"Hammond. In Caserta. By a gang of anti-Company hoodlums."</p> - -<p>Her eyes flashed, but she only said: "I know nothing of any killings."</p> - -<p>"Yet you admit you belong to a subversive group?"</p> - -<p>"I admit nothing," she said shortly.</p> - -<p>"But you do. I know you do. You said as much to me, when you were -prevented from reviving your father."</p> - -<p>She shrugged.</p> - -<p>I went on: "Why did you call me at the office, Rena? Was it to get me -to help you work against the Company?"</p> - -<p>She looked at me for a long moment. Then she said: "It was. And would -you like to know why I picked you?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I suppose—"</p> - -<p>"Don't suppose, Tom." Her nostrils were white. She said coldly: "You -seemed like a very good bet, as far as we could tell. I will tell you -something you don't know. There is a memorandum regarding you in the -office of the Chief of Expediters in Naples. I do not choose to tell -you how I know of it, but even your Mr. Gogarty doesn't know it exists. -It is private and secret, and it says of you, 'Loyalty doubtful. -Believed in contact with underground movement. Keep under close but -secret surveillance'."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>That one rocked me, I admit. "But that's all wrong!" I finally burst -out. "I admit I went through a bad time after Marianna died, but—"</p> - -<p>She was smiling, though still angry. "Are you apologizing to <i>me</i>?"</p> - -<p>"No, but—" I stopped. That was a matter to be taken up with Defoe, I -told myself, and I was beginning to feel a little angry, too.</p> - -<p>"All right," I said. "There's been a mistake; I'll see that it's -straightened out. But even if it was true, did you think I was the kind -of man to join a bunch of murderers?"</p> - -<p>"We are not murderers!"</p> - -<p>"Hammond's body says different."</p> - -<p>"We had nothing to do with that, Tom!"</p> - -<p>"Your friend Slovetski did." It was a shot in the dark. It missed by a -mile.</p> - -<p>She said loftily: "If he is such a killer, how did you escape? When I -had my interview with you, and it became apparent that the expediters -were less than accurate, the information came a little late. You could -easily have given us trouble—Slovetski was in the next room. Why -didn't he shoot you dead?"</p> - -<p>"Maybe he didn't want to be bothered with my body."</p> - -<p>"And maybe you are all wrong about us!"</p> - -<p>"No! If you're against the Company, I <i>can't</i> be wrong. The Company is -the greatest blessing the world has ever known—it's made the world a -paradise!"</p> - -<p>"It has?" She made a snorting sound. "How?"</p> - -<p>"By bringing countless blessings to all of us. <i>Countless!</i>"</p> - -<p>She was shaking with the effort of controlling her temper. "Name one!"</p> - -<p>I swore in exasperation. "All right," I said. "It ended war."</p> - -<p>She nodded—not a nod of agreement, but because she had expected that -answer. "Right out of the textbooks and propaganda pieces, Tom. Tell -me, why is my father in the vaults?"</p> - -<p>"Because he has radiation poisoning!"</p> - -<p>"And how did he get this radiation poisoning?"</p> - -<p>"How?" I blinked at her. "You know how, Rena. In the war between Naples -and—the war—"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Rena said remorselessly, "That's right, Tom, the war. The war that -couldn't have existed, because the Company ended war—everybody knows -that. Ah, Tom! For God, tell me, why is the world blind? Everyone -believes, no one questions. The Company ended war—it says so itself. -And the blind world never sees the little wars that rage, all the time, -one upon the heels of another. The Company has ended disease. But how -many deaths are there? The Company has abolished poverty. But am I -living in riches, Tom? Was the old man who ran into the vaults?"</p> - -<p>I stammered, "But—but, Rena, the statistical charts show very -clearly—"</p> - -<p>"No, Tom," she said, gentle again. "The statistical charts show <i>less</i> -war, not no war. They show <i>less</i> disease."</p> - -<p>She rubbed her eyes wearily—and even then I thought: Marianna wouldn't -have dared; it would have smeared her mascara.</p> - -<p>"The trouble with you, Tom, is that you're an American. You don't -know how it is in the world, only in America. You don't know what it -was like after the Short War, when America won and the flying squads -of Senators came over and the governments that were left agreed to -defederate. You're used to a big and united country, not little -city-states. You don't have thousands of years of intrigue and tyranny -and plot behind you, so you close your eyes and plunge ahead, and if -the charts show things are getting a <i>little</i> better, you think they -are perfect."</p> - -<p>She shook her head. "But not us, Tom. We can't afford that. We walk -with eyes that dart about, seeking danger. Sometimes we see ghosts, -but sometimes we see real menace. You look at the charts and you see -that there are fewer wars than before. We—we look at the charts and we -see our fathers and brothers dead in a little war that hardly makes a -ripple on the graph. You don't even see them, Tom. You don't even see -the disease cases that don't get cured—because the techniques are -'still experimental,' they say. You don't—Tom! What is it?"</p> - -<p>I suppose I showed the pain of remembrance. I said with an effort, -"Sorry, Rena. You made me think of something. Please go on."</p> - -<p>"That's all of it, Tom. You in America can't be blamed. The big -lie—the lie so preposterous that it cannot be questioned, the thing -that proves itself because it is so unbelievable that no one would say -it if it weren't true—is not an American invention. It is European, -Tom. You aren't inoculated against it. We are."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I took a deep breath. "What about your father, Rena? Do you really -think the Company is out to get him?"</p> - -<p>She looked at me searchingly, then looked hopelessly away. "Not as you -mean it, Tom," she said at last. "No, I am no paranoid. I think he -is—inconvenient. I think the Company finds him less trouble in the -deep-freeze than he would be walking around."</p> - -<p>"But don't you agree that he needs treatment?"</p> - -<p>"For what? For the radiation poisoning that he got from the atomic -explosion he was nowhere near, Tom? Remember, he is my father! I was -with him in the war—and he never stirred a kilometer from our home. -You've been there, the big house where my aunt Luisa now lives. Did -you see bomb craters there?"</p> - -<p>"<i>That's a lie!</i>" I had to confess it to myself: Rena was beginning to -mean something to me. But there were emotional buttons that even she -couldn't push. If she had been a man, any man, I would have had my fist -in her face before she had said that much; treason against the Company -was more than I could take. "You can't convince me that the Company -deliberately falsifies records. Don't forget, Rena, I'm an executive of -the Company! Nothing like that could go on!"</p> - -<p>Her eyes flared, but her lips were rebelliously silent.</p> - -<p>I said furiously: "I'll hear no more of that. Theoretical discussions -are all right; I'm as broad-minded as the next man. But when you accuse -the Company of outright fraud, you—well, you're mistaken."</p> - -<p>We glowered at each other for a long moment. My eyes fell first.</p> - -<p>I said sourly, "I'm sorry if I called you a liar. I—I didn't mean to -be offensive."</p> - -<p>"Nor I, Tom," she hesitated. "Will you remember that I asked you not to -make me discuss it?"</p> - -<p>She stood up. "Thank you very much for a dinner. And for listening. And -most of all, for giving me another chance to rescue my father."</p> - -<p>I looked at my watch automatically—and incredulously. "It's late, -Rena. Have you a place to stay?"</p> - -<p>She shrugged. "N—yes, of course, Tom. Don't worry about me; I'll be -all right."</p> - -<p>"Are you sure?"</p> - -<p>"Very sure."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Her manner was completely confident—so much so that I knew it for an -act.</p> - -<p>I said: "Please, Rena, you've been through a tough time and I don't -want you wandering around. You can't get back to Naples tonight."</p> - -<p>"I know."</p> - -<p>"Well?"</p> - -<p>"Well what, Tom?" she said. "I won't lie to you—I haven't a place to -go to here. I would have had, this afternoon, if I had succeeded. But -by now, everything has changed. They—that is, my friends will assume -that I have been captured by the Company. They won't be where I could -find them, Tom. Say they are silly if you wish. But they will fear that -the Company might—request me to give their names."</p> - -<p>I said crisply, "Stay here, Rena. No—listen to me. You stay here. I'll -get another room."</p> - -<p>"Thank you, Tom, but you can't. There isn't a room in Anzio; there are -families of suspendees sleeping in the grass tonight."</p> - -<p>"I can sleep in the grass if I have to."</p> - -<p>She shook her head. "Thank you," she repeated.</p> - -<p>I stood between her and the door. "Then we'll both stay here. I'll -sleep on the couch. You can have the bed." I hesitated, then added, -"You can trust me, Rena."</p> - -<p>She looked at me gravely for a moment. Then she smiled. "I'm sure I -can, Tom. I appreciate your offer. I accept."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I am built too long for a hotel-room couch, particularly a room in a -Mediterranean coastal fleabag. I lay staring into the white Italian -night; the Moon brightened the clouds outside the window, and the room -was clearly enough illuminated to show me the bed and the slight, -motionless form in it. Rena was not a restless sleeper, I thought. Nor -did she snore.</p> - -<p>Rena was a most self-possessed girl, in fact. She had overruled me when -I tried to keep the bellboy from clearing away the dinner service. -"Do you think no other Company man ever had a girl in his room?" she -innocently asked. She borrowed a pair of the new pajamas Defoe's -thoughtful expediters had bought and put in the bureau. But I hadn't -expected that, while the bellboy was clearing away, she would be -softly singing to herself in the bath.</p> - -<p>He had seemed not even to hear.</p> - -<p>He had also leaped to conclusions—not that it was much of a leap, I -suppose. But he had conspicuously not removed the bottle of champagne -and its silver bucket of melting ice.</p> - -<p>It felt good, being in the same room with Rena.</p> - -<p>I shifted again, hunching up my torso to give my legs a chance to -stretch out. I looked anxiously to see if the movement had disturbed -her.</p> - -<p>There is a story about an animal experimenter who left a chimpanzee in -an empty room. He closed the door on the ape and bent to look through -the key-hole, to see what the animal would do. But all he saw was an -eye—because the chimp was just as curious about the experimenter.</p> - -<p>In the half-light, I saw a sparkle of moonlight in Rena's eye; she was -watching me. She half-giggled, a smothered sound.</p> - -<p>"You ought to be asleep," I accused.</p> - -<p>"And you, Tom."</p> - -<p>I obediently closed my eyes, but I didn't stop seeing her.</p> - -<p><i>It only she weren't a fanatic.</i></p> - -<p>And if she had to be a fanatic, why did she have to be the one kind -that was my natural enemy, a member of the group of irresponsible -troublemakers that Defoe had ordered me to "handle"?</p> - -<p>What, I wondered, did he mean by "handle"? Did it include -chlorpromazine in a lytic solution and a plastic cocoon?</p> - -<p>I put that thought out of my mind; there was no chance whatever -that her crazy belief, that the Company was using suspension as a -retaliatory measure, was correct. But thinking of Defoe made me think -of my work. After all, I told myself, Rena was more than a person. She -was a key that could unlock the whole riddle. She had the answers—if -there was a movement of any size, she would know its structure.</p> - -<p>I thought for a moment and withdrew the "if." She had admitted the riot -of that afternoon was planned. It <i>had</i> to be a tightly organized group.</p> - -<p>And she had to have the key.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>At last, I had been getting slightly drowsy, but suddenly I was wide -awake.</p> - -<p>There were two possibilities. I faced the first of them shakily—<i>she -might be right</i>. Everything within me revolted against the notion, but -I accepted it as a theoretical possibility. If so, I would, of course, -have to revise some basic notions.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, she might be wrong. I was certain she <i>was</i> wrong. -But I was equally certain she was no raddled malcontent and if she -was wrong, and I could prove it to her, she herself might make some -revisions.</p> - -<p>Propped on one elbow, I peered at her. "Rena?" I whispered -questioningly.</p> - -<p>She stirred. "Yes, Tom?"</p> - -<p>"If you're not asleep, can we take a couple more minutes to talk?"</p> - -<p>"Of course." I sat up and reached for the light switch, but she said, -"Must we have the lights? The Moon is very bright."</p> - -<p>"Sure." I sat on the edge of the couch and reached for a cigarette. -"Can I offer you a deal, Rena?"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus7.jpg" width="349" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"What sort of deal?"</p> - -<p>"A horsetrade. You think the Company is corrupt and your father is not -a casualty, right?"</p> - -<p>"Correct, Tom."</p> - -<p>"And I think the Company is not corrupt and your father has radiation -poisoning. One of us has to be wrong, right?"</p> - -<p>"Correct, Tom."</p> - -<p>"Let's find out. There are ways of testing for radiation-sickness. I'll -go into the clinic in the morning and get the answer."</p> - -<p>She also lifted up on one elbow, peering at me, her long hair braided -down her back. "Will you?"</p> - -<p>"Sure. And we'll make bets on it, Rena. If you are wrong—if your -father has radiation poisoning—I want you to tell me everything -there is to tell about the riot today and the people behind it. If I'm -wrong—" I swallowed—"if I'm wrong, I'll get your father out of there -for you. Somehow. I promise it, Rena."</p> - -<p>There was absolute silence for a long time. Then she swung out of the -bed and hurried over to me, her hands on mine. She looked at me and -again I saw tears. "Will you do that, Tom?" she asked, hardly audible.</p> - -<p>"Why, sure," I said awkwardly. "But you have to promise—"</p> - -<p>"I promise!"</p> - -<p>She was staring at me, at arm's length. And then something happened. -She wasn't staring and she wasn't at arm's length.</p> - -<p>Kissing her was like tasting candied violets; and the Moon made -her lovelier than anything human; and the bellboy had not been so -presumptuous, after all, when he left us the champagne.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">VIII</p> - -<p>Dr. Lawton was "away from his desk" the next morning. That was all to -the good. I was not a hardened enough conspirator to seek out chances -to make mistakes, and although I had a perfectly good excuse for -wanting to go down into the vaults again, I wasn't anxious to have to -use it.</p> - -<p>The expediter-officer in charge, though, didn't even ask for reasons. -He furnished me with what I wanted—a map of the vaults and a -radiation-counter—and turned me loose.</p> - -<p>Looking at the map, I was astonished at the size of this subterranean -pyramid. Lawton had said we had eighty-odd thousand sleepers filed away -and that had surprised me, but by the chart I held in my hand, there -was space for perhaps ten times that many. It was beyond belief that so -much space was really needed, I thought—unless there was some truth to -Rena's belief that the Company used the clinics for prisons....</p> - -<p>I applied myself to the map.</p> - -<p>And, naturally, I read it wrong. It was very simple; I merely went to -the wrong level, that was all.</p> - -<p>It looked wrong as soon as I stepped out of the elevator. An elderly, -officious civilian with a British accent barred my way. "You aren't one -of us, are you?"</p> - -<p>I said, "I doubt it."</p> - -<p>"Then would you mind?" he asked politely, and indicated a spot on the -side of the hall. Perhaps I was suggestible, but I obeyed his request -without question. It was just as well, because a sort of procession -rounded a bend and came down the corridor. There was a wheeled -stretcher, with three elderly civilians puttering around it, and a -bored medic following with a jar of something held aloft, feeding -through a thin plastic tube into the arm of the man on the stretcher, -as well as half a dozen others of more nondescript types.</p> - -<p>The man who had stopped me nearly ran to meet the stretcher. He stared -into the waxy face and whispered, "It's he! Oh, absolutely, it is he!"</p> - -<p>I looked and the face was oddly familiar. It reminded me of my -childhood; it had a link with school days and the excitement of turning -twelve. By the way the four old men were carrying on, however, it meant -more than that to them. It meant, if not the Second Coming, at least -something close to it.</p> - -<p>By then I had figured out that this was that rare event in the day of -a clinic—a revival. I had never seen one. I suppose I could have got -out of the way and gone about my conspiratorial business, and it is no -credit to me as a conspirator that I did not. But I was fascinated.</p> - -<p>Too fascinated to wonder why revivals were so rare....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The medic looked at his watch and, with careless efficiency, plucked -the tube out of the waxy man's arm.</p> - -<p>"Two minutes," he said to one of the civilians. "Then he'll be as good -as he ever was. You've got his clothes and release papers?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, definitely," said the civilian, beaming.</p> - -<p>"Okay. And you understand that the Company takes no responsibility -beyond the policy covering? After all, he was one of the first men -suspended. We think we can give him another year or so—which is a year -more than he would have had, at that—but he's not what you'd call a -Grade A risk."</p> - -<p>"Certainly," agreed the civilian. "Can we talk to him now?"</p> - -<p>"As soon as he opens his eyes."</p> - -<p>The civilian bent over the man, who no longer looked waxy. His face -was now a mottled gray and his eyelids were flickering. He had begun -to breathe heavily and irregularly, and he was mumbling something I -couldn't understand. The civilian whispered in his ear and the revived -man opened his eyes and looked at him.</p> - -<p>It was like seeing the dead come to life. It was exactly that, in fact; -twenty minutes before, no chemical test, no stethoscope or probing -thumb in the eye socket could have detected the faint living glow in -the almost-dead cells. And yet—now he looked, he breathed, he spoke.</p> - -<p>"I made it," were his first understandable words.</p> - -<p>"Indeed you did!" crowed the civilian in charge, while all of the -others murmured happily to each other. "Sir, it is my pleasure to -welcome you back to us. You are in Anzio, Italy. And I am Thomas -Welbourne, at your service."</p> - -<p>The faint eyes sparkled. Dead, near-dead or merely decrepit, this was -a man who wanted to enjoy life. Minutes out of the tomb, he said: "No! -Not young Tommy Welbourne!"</p> - -<p>"His grandson, sir," said the civilian.</p> - -<p>I had it just then—that face had watched me through a whole year of -school. It had been in a frame at the front of the room, with half a -dozen other faces. It had a name under it, which, try as I might, I -couldn't recall; but the face was there all the same. It was an easy -one to keep in mind—strong though sunken, ancient but very much alive.</p> - -<p>He was saying, in a voice as confident as any youth's, "Ah, Tommy, I've -lived to see it! Tell me, have you been to Mars? What is on the other -side of the Moon? And the Russians—what are the Russians up to these -days?"</p> - -<p>The civilian coughed and tried to interrupt, but the figure on the -stretcher went on heedlessly: "All those years gone—what wonders must -we have. A tunnel under the Atlantic, I'll wager! And ships that fly a -hundred times the speed of sound. Tell me, Tommy Welbourne! Don't keep -an old man waiting!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The civilian said reluctantly, but patiently, "Perhaps it will take a -little explaining, sir. You see, there have been changes—"</p> - -<p>"I know it, boy! That's what I'm asking you!"</p> - -<p>"Well, not that sort of changes, sir. We've learned new virtues since -your time—patience and stability, things of that sort. You see—"</p> - -<p>The interesting part was over and the glances of the others in the -party reminded me that I didn't belong here. I stole off, but not -before the man on the stretcher noticed me and made a sort of clumsy -two-fingered salute of hail and farewell as I left. It was exactly like -the gesture in his picture on that schoolroom wall, up next to the -presidents and the greatest of kings.</p> - -<p>I found a staircase and climbed to another level of the boxlike clinic.</p> - -<p>The local peasants called the vaults "coolers" or "ice cubes." I -suppose the reason had something to do with the fact that they were -cool and rectangular, on the whole—perhaps because, like icebergs, the -great bulk of the vaults was below the surface. But whatever you called -them, they were huge. And the clinic at Anzio was only one out of -hundreds scattered all over the world.</p> - -<p>It was all a matter of viewpoint. To me, the clinics were emblems of -the Company's concern for the world. In any imaginable disaster—even -if some fantastic plague struck the entire race at once—the affected -population could be neatly and effectively preserved until medicine -could catch up with their cures.</p> - -<p>To Rena, they were prisons big enough to hold the human race.</p> - -<p>It was time to find out which of us was right. I hurried through the -corridors, between the tiers of sleepers, almost touching them on both -sides. I saw the faint purplish gleam where Rena had spilled the fluid, -and knelt beside the cocoon that held her father.</p> - -<p>The UV sterilizers overhead made everything look ghastly violet, but in -any light, the waxy face under the plastic would have looked dead as -death itself. I couldn't blame Rena for weeping.</p> - -<p>I took out the little radiation counter and looked at it awkwardly. -There was nothing complicated about the device—fortunately, because -I had had little experience with them. It was a cylinder with a -flaring snout at one end, a calibrated gauge at the side, marked in -micro-roentgens. The little needle flickered in the green area of the -dial. I held it to myself and the reading didn't change. I pointed it -up and pointed it down; it didn't change.</p> - -<p>I held it to the radiation-seared body of Benedetto dell'Angela.</p> - -<p>And it didn't change.</p> - -<p>Radiation-seared? Not unless the instrument lied! If dell'Angela -had ever in his life been within the disaster radius of an atomic -explosion, it had been so long before that every trace of radioactive -byproduct was gone!</p> - -<p>Rena was right!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I worked like a machine, hardly thinking. I stood up and hurriedly -touched the ion-tasting snout of the counter to the body on the shelf -above Benedetto, the one above that, a dozen chosen at random up and -down the aisle.</p> - -<p>Two of them sent the needle surging clear off the scale; three were -as untainted by radioactivity as Benedetto himself. A few others gave -readings from "mild" to "lethal"—but all in the danger area.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus8.jpg" width="584" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><i>Most were as untainted by radiation as Benedetto himself.</i></p> - -<p>It was possible, I told myself frantically, that there were mysteries -here I did not understand. Perhaps after a few months or a year, the -radiation level would drop, so that the victim was still in deadly -danger while the emitted radiation of his body was too slight to -affect the counter. I didn't see how, but it was worth a thought. -Anything was worth a thought that promised another explanation to this -than the one Rena had given!</p> - -<p>There had been, I remembered, a score or more of new suspendees in the -main receiving vault at the juncture of the corridors. I hurried back -to it. Here were fresh cases, bound to show on the gauge.</p> - -<p>I leaned over the nearest one, first checking to make sure its -identification tag was the cross-hatched red one that marked -"radiation." I brought the counter close to the shriveled face—</p> - -<p>But I didn't read the dial, not at first. I didn't have to. For I -recognized that face. I had seen it, contorted in terror, mumbling -frantic pleas for mercy, weeping and howling, on the old Class E -uninsurable the expediters had found hiding in the vaults.</p> - -<p><i>He</i> had no radiation poisoning ... unless a bomb had exploded in these -very vaults in the past twelve hours.</p> - -<p>It wasn't pleasant to stand there and stare around the vaults that were -designed for the single purpose of saving human life—and to wonder how -many of the eighty thousand souls it held were also prisoners.</p> - -<p>And it wasn't even tolerable to think the thought that followed. If -the Company was corrupt, and I had worked to do the Company's business, -how much of this guilt was mine?</p> - -<p>The Company, I had said and thought and tried to force others to agree, -was the hope of humanity—the force that had permanently ended war -(almost), driven out disease (nearly), destroyed the threat to any -human of hunger or homelessness (in spite of the starving old man who -slept in the shadow of the crypt, and others like him).</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>But I had to face the facts that controverted the Big Lie. If war was -ended, what about Naples and Sicily, and Prague and Vienna, and all the -squabbles in the Far East? <i>If there was no danger from disease, why -had Marianna died?</i></p> - -<p>Rena had said that if there was no danger of disaster, no one would -have paid their premiums. Obviously the Company could not have -wanted that, but why had I never seen it before? Sample wars, sample -deaths—the Company needed them. And no one, least of all me, fretted -about how the samples felt about it.</p> - -<p>Well, that was behind me. I'd made a bet with Rena, and I'd lost, and I -had to pay off.</p> - -<p>I opened the cased hypodermic kit Rena had given me and examined -it uncomfortably. I had never used the old-fashioned sort of needle -hypodermic; I knew a little something about the high-pressure spray -type that forced its contents into the skin without leaving a mark, but -I was very far from sure that I could manage this one without doing -something wrong. Besides, there wasn't much of the fluid left, only the -few drops left in the bottom of the bottle after Rena had loaded the -needle that had been smashed.</p> - -<p>I hurried back along the corridor toward Benedetto dell'Angela. I -neared again the red-labeled door marked Bay 100, glanced at it in -passing—and stopped.</p> - -<p>This was the door that only a handful of people could open. It was -labeled in five languages: "Entrance Strictly Prohibited. Experimental -Section."</p> - -<p>Why was it standing ajar?</p> - -<p>And I heard a faint whisper of a moan: "<i>Aiutemi, aiutemi.</i>"</p> - -<p>Someone inside was calling for help!</p> - -<p>If I had been a hardened conspirator, I would never have stopped to -investigate. But, of course, I wasn't. I pushed the door aside, against -resistance, and peered in.</p> - -<p>And that was my third major shock in the past quarter of an hour, -because, writhing feebly just inside the door, staring up at me with an -expression of pain and anger, was Luigi Zorchi.</p> - -<p>He propped himself up on his hands, the rags of his plastic cocoon -dangling from his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"Oho," he said faintly. "The apprentice assassin again."</p> - -<p>I found water for him at a bubble-fountain by the ramp; he drank at -least a quart before I made him stop. Then he lay back, panting, -staring at me. Except for the shreds of plastic and the bandages around -the stumps of his legs, he was nude, like all the other suspendees -inside their sacks. The luxuriant hair had already begun to grow back.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He licked his lips. More vigorous now, he snarled: "The plan fails, -does it not? You think you have Zorchi out of the way, but he will not -stay there."</p> - -<p>I said, "Zorchi, I'm sorry about all this I—I know more now than I did -yesterday."</p> - -<p>He gaped. "Yesterday? Only <i>yesterday</i>?" He shook his head. "I would -have thought a month, at the least. I have been crawling, assassin. -Crawling for days, I thought." He tried to shrug—not easy, because he -was leaning on his elbows. "Very well, Weels. You may take me back to -finish the job now. Sticking me with a needle and putting me on ice -will not work. Perhaps you should kill me outright."</p> - -<p>"Listen, Zorchi, I <i>said</i> I was sorry. Let's let it go at that for a -moment. I—I admit you shouldn't be here. The question is, how do you -come to be awake?"</p> - -<p>"How not? I am Zorchi, Weels. Cut me and I heal; poison me and I cure -myself." He spat furiously. "Starve me, however, and I no doubt will -die, and it is true that you have come very near to starving me down -here." He glowered at the shelves of cocooned bodies in the locked bay. -"A pity, with all this pork and beef on the rack, waiting for me, but I -find I am not a monster, Weels. It is a weakness; I do not suppose it -would stop any Company man for a moment."</p> - -<p>"Look, Zorchi," I begged, "take my word for it—I want to help you. You -might as well believe me, you know. You can't be any worse off than you -are."</p> - -<p>He stared at me sullenly for a moment. Then, "True enough," he -admitted. "What then, Weels?"</p> - -<p>I said hesitantly, "Well, I'd like to get you out of here...."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes. I would like that, too. How shall we do it?"</p> - -<p>I rubbed the back of my neck thoughtfully, staring at him. I had had -a sort of half-baked, partly worked out plan for rescuing Benedetto. -Wake him up with the needle; find a medical orderly's whites somewhere; -dress him; and walk him out.</p> - -<p>It wasn't the best of all possible plans, but I had rank enough, -particularly with Defoe off in Rome, to take a few liberties or stop -questions if it became necessary. And besides, I hadn't really thought -I'd have to do it. I had fully expected—as recently as half an hour -ago!—that I would find Benedetto raddled with gamma rays, a certainty -for death if revived before the half-life period of the radioelements -in his body had brought the level down to safety.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>That plan might work for Benedetto. But Zorchi, to mention only one -possible obstacle, couldn't walk. And Benedetto, once I took off his -beard with the razor Rena had insisted I bring for that purpose, would -not be likely to be recognized by anyone.</p> - -<p>Zorchi, on the other hand, was very nearly unforgettable.</p> - -<p>I said honestly, "I don't know."</p> - -<p>He nodded. "Nor do I, Weels. Take me then to your Defoe." His face -wrinkled in an expression of fury and fear. "Die I can, if I must, but -I do not wish to starve. It is good to be able to grow a leg, but do -you understand that the leg must come from somewhere? I cannot make -it out of air, Weels—I must eat. When I am in my home at Naples, I -eat five, six, eight times a day; it is the way my body must have it. -So if Defoe wishes to kill me, we will let him, but I must leave here -<i>now</i>."</p> - -<p>I shook my head. "Please understand me, Zorchi—I can't even do that -for you. I can't have anybody asking me what I was doing down in this -level." I hesitated only briefly; then, realizing that I was already in -so deeply that secrecy no longer mattered, I told him about Benedetto -dell'Angela, and the riot that failed, and my promise.</p> - -<p>His reaction was incredulity. "You did not know, Weels? The arms and -legs of the Company do not know what thoughts pass through its brain? -Truly, the Company is a wonderful thing! Even the peasants know this -much—the Company will do anything it must."</p> - -<p>"I admit I never guessed. Now what?"</p> - -<p>"That is up to you, Weels. If you try to take the two of us out, it -endangers you. It is for you to decide."</p> - -<p>So, of course, I could decide only one way.</p> - -<p>I hid the hypodermic behind one of the bodies in Bay 100; it was no -longer useful to me. I persuaded Zorchi to lie quietly in one of the -tiers near Benedetto, slammed the heavy door to Bay 100, and heard the -locks snap. That was the crossing of the Rubicon. You could open that -door easily enough from inside—that was to protect any personnel who -might be caught in there. But only Defoe and a couple of others could -open it from without, and the hypodermic was now as far out of reach as -the Moon.</p> - -<p>I opened Benedetto dell'Angela's face mask and shaved him, then sealed -it again. I found another suspendee of about the same build, made -sure the man was not radioactive, and transferred them. I switched -tags: Benedetto dell'Angela was now Elio Barletteria. Then I walked -unsteadily to the ramp, picked up the intercom and ordered the medical -officer in charge to come down.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was not Dr. Lawton who came, fortunately, but one of his helpers who -had seen me before. I pointed to the pseudo-Barletteria. "I want this -man revived."</p> - -<p>He sputtered, "You—you can't just take a suspendee out of his trance, -Mr. Wills. It's a violation of medical ethics! These men are <i>sick</i>. -They—"</p> - -<p>"They'll be sicker still if we don't get some information from this -one," I said grimly. "Are you going to obey Mr. Defoe's orders or not?"</p> - -<p>He sputtered some more, but he gave in. His orderlies took Benedetto -to the receiving station at the foot of the vault; one of them stood by -while the doctor worriedly went through his routine. I sat and smoked, -watching the procedure.</p> - -<p>It was simple enough. One injection, a little chafing of the hands -and feet by the bored orderly while the doctor glowered and I stonily -refused to answer his questions, and a lot of waiting. And then the -"casualty" stirred and moaned.</p> - -<p>All the stand-by apparatus was there—the oxygen tent and the pulmotor -and the heart stimulator and so on. But none of it was needed.</p> - -<p>I said: "Fine, Doctor. Now send the orderly to have an ambulance -standing by at the main entrance, and make out an exit pass for this -casualty."</p> - -<p>"No!" the doctor shouted. "This is against every rule, Mr. Wills. I -insist on calling Dr. Lawton—"</p> - -<p>"By all means," I said. "But there isn't much time. Make out the pass -and get the ambulance, and we'll clear it with Dr. Lawton on the way -out." He was all ready to say no again when I added: "This is by direct -order of Mr. Defoe. Are you questioning his orders?"</p> - -<p>He wasn't—not as long as I was going to clear it with Dr. Lawton. -He did as I asked. One of the advantages of the Company's rigid -regulations was that it was hard to enforce strict security on its -personnel. If you didn't tell the staff that they were working -for something needing covering up, you couldn't expect them to be -constantly on guard.</p> - -<p>When the orderly was gone and the doctor had scrawled out the pass, I -said cordially, "Thank you, Doctor. Now would you like to know what all -the fuss was about?"</p> - -<p>"I certainly would," he snapped. "If you think—"</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry," I apologized. "Come over here and take a look at this man."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I juggled the radiation counter in my hand as he stalked over. "Take a -look at his eyes," I invited.</p> - -<p>"Are you trying to tell me that this is a dangerously radioactive case? -I warn you, Mr. Wills—"</p> - -<p>"No, no," I said. "See for yourself. Look at the right eye, just beside -the nose."</p> - -<p>He bent over the awakening body, searchingly.</p> - -<p>I clonked him with the radiation counter on the back of the head. They -must have retired that particular counter from service after that; it -wasn't likely to be very accurate any more.</p> - -<p>The orderly found me bending over the doctor's body and calling for -help. He bent, too, and he got the same treatment. Benedetto by then -was awake; he listened to me and didn't ask questions. The blessings of -dealing with conspirators—it was not necessary to explain things more -than once.</p> - -<p>And so, with a correctly uniformed orderly, who happened to be -Benedetto dell'Angela, pushing the stretcher, and with myself -displaying a properly made out pass to the expediter at the door, we -rolled the sham-unconscious body of Luigi Zorchi out to a waiting -ambulance.</p> - -<p>I felt my pulse hammering as we passed the expediter at the door. -I had thrown my coat over the place where legs should have been on -"Barletteria," and Benedetto's old plastic cocoon, into which we had -squeezed Zorchi, concealed most of him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I needn't have worried. The expediter not only wasn't suspicious, he -wasn't even interested.</p> - -<p>Benedetto and I lifted Zorchi into the ambulance. Benedetto climbed -in after him and closed the doors, and I went to the front. "You're -dismissed," I told the driver. "I'll drive."</p> - -<p>As soon as we were out of sight of the clinic, I found a phone, got -Rena at the hotel, told her to meet me under the marquee. In five -minutes, she was beside me and we were heading for the roads to the -north.</p> - -<p>"You win," I told her. "Your father's in back—along with somebody -else. Now what? Do we just try to get lost in the hills somewhere?"</p> - -<p>"No, Tom," she said breathlessly. "I—I have made arrangements." She -giggled. "I walked around the square and around, until someone came up -to me. You do not know how many gentlemen came before that! But then -one of my—friends showed up, to see if I was all right, and I arranged -it. We go up the Rome highway two miles and there will be a truck."</p> - -<p>"Fine," I said, stepping on the gas. "Now do you want to climb back and -tell your father—"</p> - -<p>I stopped in the middle of the word. Rena peered at me. "Tom," she -asked anxiously, "is something wrong?"</p> - -<p>I swallowed, staring after a disappearing limousine in the rear-view -mirror. "I—hope not," I said. "But your friends had better be there, -because we don't have much time. I saw Defoe in the back of that -limousine."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">IX</p> - -<p>Rena craned her neck around the door and peered into the nave of the -church. "He's kissing the Book," she reported. "It will be perhaps -twenty minutes yet."</p> - -<p>Her father said mildly, "I am in no hurry. It is good to rest here. -Though truthfully, Mr. Wills, I thought I had been rested sufficiently -by your Company."</p> - -<p>I think we were all grateful for the rest. It had been a hectic drive -up from Anzio. Even though Rena's "friends" were thoughtful people, -they had not anticipated that we would have a legless man with us.</p> - -<p>They had passports for Rena and myself and Benedetto; for Zorchi they -had none. It had been necessary for him to hide under a dirty tarpaulin -in the trunk of the ancient charcoal-burning car, while Rena charmed -the Swiss Guards at the border. And it was risky. But the Guards -charmed easily, and we got through.</p> - -<p>Zorchi did not much appreciate it. He swore a ragged blue streak when -we stopped in the shade of an olive grove and lugged him to the front -seat again, and he didn't stop swearing until we hit the Appian Way. -When the old gas-generator limped up a hill, he swore at its slowness; -when it whizzed along the downgrades and level stretches, he swore at -the way he was being bounced around.</p> - -<p>I didn't regret rescuing Zorchi from the clinic—it was a matter of -simple justice since I had helped trick him into it. But I did wish -that it had been some more companionable personality that I had been -obligated to.</p> - -<p>Benedetto, on the other hand, shook my hand and said: "For God, I thank -you," and I felt well repaid. But he was in the back seat being brought -up to date by his daughter; I had the honor of Zorchi's company next to -me....</p> - -<p>There was a long Latin period from the church, a response from -the altar boy, and then the final <i>Ite, missa est</i>. We heard the -worshippers moving out of the church.</p> - -<p>The priest came through the room we were waiting in, his robes -swirling. He didn't look around, or give any sign that he knew we were -there, though he almost stepped on Zorchi, sitting propped against a -wall.</p> - -<p>A moment later, another man in vaguely clerical robes entered and -nodded to us. "Now we go below," he ordered.</p> - -<p>Benedetto and I flanked Zorchi and carried him, an arm around each -of our necks. We followed the sexton, or whatever he was, back into -the church, before the altar—Benedetto automatically genuflected -with the others, nearly making me spill Zorchi onto the floor—to a -tapestry-hung door. He pushed aside the tapestry, and a cool, musty -draft came up from darkness.</p> - -<p>The sexton lit a taper with a pocket cigarette lighter and led us down -winding, rickety steps. There was no one left in the church to notice -us; if anyone had walked in, we were tourists, doing as countless -millions of tourists had done before us over the centuries.</p> - -<p>We were visiting the Catacombs.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Around us were the bones of the Christians of a very different Rome. -Rena had told me about them: How they rambled under the modern city, -the only entrances where churches had been built over them. How they -had been nearly untouched for two thousand years. I even felt a little -as though I really were a tourist as we descended, she had made me that -curious to see them.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus10.jpg" width="350" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>But I was disappointed. We lugged the muttering Zorchi through the -narrow, musty corridors, with the bones of martyrs at our elbows, in -the flickering light of the taper, and I had the curious feeling that I -had been there before.</p> - -<p>As, in a way, I had: I had been in the vaults of the Company's clinic -at Anzio, in some ways very closely resembling these Catacombs—</p> - -<p>Even to the bones of the martyrs.</p> - -<p>I was almost expecting to see plastic sacks.</p> - -<p>We picked our way through the warrens for several minutes, turning this -way and that. I was lost in the first minute. Then the sexton stopped -before a flat stone that had a crude, faded sketch of a fish on it; -he leaned on it, and the stone discovered itself to be a door. We -followed him through it into a metal-walled, high-ceilinged tunnel, -utterly unlike the meandering Catacombs. I began to hear sounds; we -went through another door, and light struck at our eyes.</p> - -<p>I blinked and focused on a long room, half a dozen yards wide, almost -as tall, at least fifty yards long. It appeared to be a section of an -enormous tunnel; it appeared to be, and it was. Benedetto and I set -Zorchi—still cursing—down on the floor and stared around.</p> - -<p>There were people in the tunnel, dozens of them. There were desks and -tables and file cabinets; it looked almost like any branch of the -Company, with whirring mimeographs and clattering typewriters.</p> - -<p>The sexton pinched out the taper and dropped it on the floor, as people -came toward us.</p> - -<p>"So now you are in our headquarters in Rome," said the man dressed as a -sexton. "It is good to see you again, Benedetto."</p> - -<p>"And it is much better to see you, Slovetski," the old man answered -warmly.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>This man Slovetski—I do not think I can say what he looked like.</p> - -<p>He was, I found, the very leader of the "friends," the monarch of this -underground headquarters. But he was a far cry from the image I had -formed of a bearded agitator. There was a hint of something bright and -fearful in his eyes, but his voice was warm and deep, his manner was -reassuring, his face was friendly. Still—there was that cat-spark in -his eyes.</p> - -<p>Slovetski, that first day, gave me an hour of his time. He answered -some of my questions—not all. The ones he smiled at, and shook his -head, were about numbers and people. The ones he answered were about -principles and things.</p> - -<p>He would tell me, for instance, what he thought of the -Company—endlessly. But he wouldn't say how many persons in the world -were his followers. He wouldn't name any of the persons who were all -around us. But he gladly told me about the place itself.</p> - -<p>"History, Mr. Wills," he said politely. "History tells a man everything -he needs to know. You look in the books, and you will learn of -Mussolini, when this peninsula was all one state; he lived in Rome, -and he started a subway. The archives even have maps. It is almost all -abandoned now. Most of it was never finished. But the shafts are here, -and the wiring that lights us still comes from the electric mains."</p> - -<p>"And the only entrance is through the Catacombs?"</p> - -<p>The spark gleamed bright in his eye for a second. Then he shrugged. -"Why shouldn't I tell you? No. There are several others, but they are -not all convenient." He chuckled. "For instance, one goes through a -station on the part of the subway that is still in operation. But it -would not have done for you, you see; Rena could not have used it. It -goes through the gentlemen's washroom."</p> - -<p>We chuckled, Slovetski and I. I liked him. He looked like what he once -had been: a history teacher in a Company school, somewhere in Europe. -We talked about History, and Civilization, and Mankind, and all the -other capitalized subjects. He was very didactic and positive in what -he said, just like a history teacher. But he was understanding. He -made allowances for my background; he did not call me a fool. He was a -patient monk instructing a novice in the mysteries of the order, and I -was at ease with him.</p> - -<p>But there was still that spark in his eye.</p> - -<p>Rena disappeared almost as soon as we were safely in the tunnels. -Benedetto was around, but he was as busy as Slovetski, and just as -mysterious about what occupied him. So I had for company Zorchi.</p> - -<p>We had lunch. "Food!" he said, and the word was an epithet. "They offer -this to me for food! For pigs, Weels. Not for Zorchi!" He pushed the -plate away from him and stared morosely at the table.</p> - -<p>We were given a room to share, and one of Slovetski's men fixed up a -rope-and-pulley affair so Zorchi could climb into his bed unaided. He -was used to the help of a valet; the first time he tried it, he slipped -and fell on the stumps of his legs. It must have hurt.</p> - -<p>He shrieked, "Assassins! All of them! They put me in a kennel with the -apprentice assassin, and the other assassins make a guillotine for me -to kill myself on!"</p> - -<p>We had a long talk with Slovetski, on the ideals and principles of his -movement. Zorchi stared mutinously at the wall. I found the whole thing -very interesting—shocking, but interesting. But Zorchi was immune to -shock—"Perhaps it is news to you, Weels, that the Company is a big -beast?"—and he was interested in nothing in all the world but Zorchi.</p> - -<p>By the end of the second day I stopped talking to him entirely. It -wasn't kind. He disliked me, but he hated everyone else in the tunnel, -so he had no one to talk to. But it was either that or hit him in the -face, and—although many of my mores had changed overnight—I still -did not think I could strike a man without legs.</p> - -<p>And besides, the less I saw of Zorchi, the more time I had to think -about Rena.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She returned on the third day, without a word of explanation to me of -where she had been or what she had done. She greeted me and disappeared -again, this time only for hours. Then she came back and said, "Now I am -through, for a time. How have you liked our little hideaway?"</p> - -<p>I said, "It gets lonesome."</p> - -<p>"Lonesome?" Her brown eyes were wide and perfectly serious. "I had -thought it would be otherwise, Tom. So many of us in this little space, -how could you be lonesome?"</p> - -<p>I took her hand. "I'm not lonesome now," I told her. We found a place -to sit in a corner of the communal dining hall. Around us the life of -the underground movement buzzed and swirled. It was much like a branch -of the Company, as I have said; the work of this secret section seemed -to be mostly a record-keeping depot for the activities that took place -on the surface. But no one paid much attention to Rena and me.</p> - -<p>What did we talk about? What couples have always talked about: Each -other, and everything, and nothing. The only thing we did <i>not</i> talk -about was my basic beliefs in regard to the Company. For I was too -troubled in my mind to talk about them, and Rena sensitive enough not -to bring them up.</p> - -<p>For I had, with all honor, sworn an oath of allegiance to the Company; -and I had not kept it.</p> - -<p>I could not, even then, see any possibility of a world where the -Company did not exist. For what the Company said of itself was true: -Before the Company existed, men lived like beasts. There was always the -instant danger of war and disease. No plan could be made, no hope could -be held, that could not be wiped out by blind accident.</p> - -<p>And yet, were men better off today? I could not doubt the truths I -had been told. The Company permitted wars—I had seen it. The Company -permitted disease—my own wife had died.</p> - -<p>Somewhere there was an answer, but I couldn't find it. It was not, I -was sure, in Slovetski's burning hatred of everything the Company stood -for. But it could not be, either, in the unquestioning belief that I -had once given.</p> - -<p>But my views, it turned out, hardly mattered any more; the die was -cast. Benedetto appeared in the entrance to the dining hall, peering -about. He saw us and came over, his face grave.</p> - -<p>"I am sorry, Mr. Wills," he said. "I have been listening to Radio -Napoli. It has just come over the air: A description of you, and an -order for your arrest. The charge is—murder!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I gaped at him, hardly believing. "Murder! But that's not true; I -certainly never—"</p> - -<p>Benedetto laid a hand on my shoulder. "Of course not, Mr. Wills. It is -a fiction of the Company's, beyond doubt. But it is a fiction that may -cause your death if you are discovered, do not doubt that."</p> - -<p>I swallowed. "Who—whom did I murder?"</p> - -<p>Benedetto shrugged. "I do not know who he is. The name they gave was -Elio Barletteria."</p> - -<p>That was the suspendee whose place Zorchi had usurped. I sat back, -bewildered. It was true, at least, that I had had some connection with -the man. But—kill him? Was it possible, I asked myself, that the -mere act of taking him out of his plastic sack endangered his life? I -doubted it, but still—</p> - -<p>I asked Benedetto. He frowned. "It is—possible," he admitted at last. -"We do not know much about the suspendees, Mr. Wills. The Company has -seen to that. It is my opinion—only an opinion, I am afraid—that -if this man Barletteria is dead, it had nothing to do with anything -you did. Still—" he shrugged—"what difference does it make? If the -Company calls you a murderer, you must be one, for the Company is -always right. Is that not so?"</p> - -<p>We left it at that, but I was far from easy in my mind. The dining -hall filled, and we ate our evening meal, but I hardly noticed what -I ate and I took no part in the conversation. Rena and her father -considerately left me alone; Zorchi was, it seemed, sulking in our -room, for he did not appear. But I was not concerned with him, for I -had troubles of my own. I should have been....</p> - -<p>After dinner was over, I excused myself and went to the tiny cubicle -that had been assigned to Zorchi and myself. He wasn't there. Then I -began to think: Would Zorchi miss a meal?</p> - -<p>The answer was unquestionably no. With his metabolism, he needed many -times the food of an ordinary person; his performance at table, in -fact, was spectacular.</p> - -<p>Something was wrong. I was shaken out of my self-absorption; I hurried -to find Benedetto dell'Angela, and told him that Zorchi was gone.</p> - -<p>It didn't take long for us to find the answer. The underground hideout -was not large; it had only so many exits. It was only a matter of -moments before one of the men Benedetto had ordered to search returned -with an alarmed expression.</p> - -<p>The exit that led through the subway station was ajar. Somehow Zorchi -had hitched himself, on his stumps, down the long corridor and out the -exit. It had to be while we were eating; he could never have made it -except when everyone was in one room.</p> - -<p>How he had done it did not matter. The fact remained that Zorchi was -gone and, with him, the secrecy of our hiding place.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">X</p> - -<p>We had to move. There was no way out of it.</p> - -<p>"Zorchi hates the Company," I protested. "I don't think he'll go to -them and—"</p> - -<p>"No, Wills." Slovetski patiently shook his head. "We can't take a -chance. If we had been able to recapture him, then we could stay -here. But he got clean away." There was admiration in his eyes. "What -a conspirator he would have made! Such strength and determination! -Think of it, Wills, a legless man in the city of Rome. He cannot avoid -attracting attention. He can barely move by himself. And yet, our men -track him into the subway station, to a telephone ... and that is -all. Someone picks him up. Who? A friend, one supposes—certainly not -the Company, or they would have been here before this. But to act so -quickly, Wills!"</p> - -<p>Benedetto dell'Angela coughed. "Perhaps more to the point, Slovetski, -is how quickly we ourselves shall now act."</p> - -<p>Slovetski grinned. "All is ready," he promised. "See, evacuation -already has begun!"</p> - -<p>Groups of men were quickly placing file folders into cartons and -carrying them off. They were not going far, I found later, only to a -deserted section of the ancient Roman Catacombs, from which they could -be retrieved and transported, little by little, at a later date.</p> - -<p>By sundown, Rena and I were standing outside the little church which -contained the entrance to the Catacombs. The two of us went together; -only two. It would look quite normal, it was agreed, for a young man -and a girl to travel together, particularly after my complexion had -been suitably stained and my Company clothes discarded and replaced -with a set of Rome's best ready-to-wears.</p> - -<p>It did not occur to me at the time, but Rena must have known that -her own safety was made precarious by being with me. Rena alone had -nothing to fear, even if she had been caught and questioned by an -agent of the Company. They would suspect her, because of her father, -but suspicion would do her no harm. But Rena in the company of a wanted -"murderer"—and one traveling in disguise—was far less safe....</p> - -<p>We found an ancient piston-driven cab and threaded through almost all -of Rome. We spun around the ancient stone hulk of the Colosseum, -passed the balcony where a sign stated the dictator, Mussolini, used to -harangue the crowds, and climbed a winding, expensive-looking street to -the Borghese Gardens.</p> - -<p>Rena consulted her watch. "We're early," she said. We had <i>gelati</i> in -an open-air pavilion, listening to the wheezing of a sweating band; -then, in the twilight, we wandered hand in hand under trees for half an -hour.</p> - -<p>Then Rena said, "Now it is time." We walked to the far end of the -Gardens where a small copter-field served the Class-A residential area -of Rome. A dozen copters were lined up at the end of the take-off -hardstand. Rena led me to the nearest of them.</p> - -<p>I looked at it casually, and stopped dead.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus11.jpg" width="600" height="482" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"Rena!" I whispered violently. "Watch out!" The copter was black and -purple; it bore on its flank the marking of the Swiss Guard, the Roman -police force.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She pressed my hand. "Poor Tom," she said. She walked boldly up to one -of the officers lounging beside the copter and spoke briefly to him, -too low for me to hear.</p> - -<p>It was only when the big vanes overhead had sucked us a hundred yards -into the air, and we were leveling off and heading south, that she -said: "These are friends too, you see. Does it surprise you?"</p> - -<p>I swallowed, staring at the hissing jets at the ends of the swirling -vanes. "Well," I said, "I'm not exactly <i>surprised</i>, but I thought that -your friends were, well, more likely to be—"</p> - -<p>"To be rabble?" I started to protest, but she was not angry. She was -looking at me with gentle amusement. "Still you believe, Tom. Deep -inside you: An enemy of the Company must be, at the best, a silly -zealot like my father and me—and at the worst, rabble." She laughed -as I started to answer her. "No, Tom, if you are right, you should not -deny it; and if you are wrong—you will see."</p> - -<p>I sat back and stared, disgruntled, at the purple sunset over the -Mediterranean. I never saw such a girl for taking the wind out of your -sails.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Once across the border, the Guards had no status, and it was necessary -for them to swing inland, threading through mountains and passes, -remaining as inconspicuous as possible.</p> - -<p>It was little more than an hour's flight until I found landmarks I -could recognize. To our right was the bright bowl of Naples; far to our -left, the eerie glow that, marked bombed-out New Caserta. And ahead, -barely visible, the faint glowing plume that hung over Mount Vesuvius.</p> - -<p>Neither Rena nor the Guards spoke, but I could feel in their tense -attitudes that this was the danger-point. We were in the lair of the -enemy. Undoubtedly we were being followed in a hundred radars, and the -frequency-pattern would reveal our copter for what it was—a Roman -police plane that had no business in that area. Even if the Company let -us pass, there was always the chance that some Neapolitan radarman, -more efficient, or more anxious for a promotion, than his peers would -alert an interceptor and order us down. Certainly, in the old days, -interception would have been inevitable; for Naples had just completed -a war, and only short weeks back an unidentified aircraft would have -been blasted out of the sky.</p> - -<p>But we were ignored.</p> - -<p>And that, I thought to myself, was another facet to the paradox. For -when, in all the world's years before these days of the Company, was -there such complacency, such deep-rooted security, that a nation just -out of a war should have soothed its combat-jangled nerves overnight? -Perhaps the Company had not ended wars. But the <i>fear</i> of wars was -utterly gone.</p> - -<p>We fluttered once around the volcano, and dipped in to a landing on a -gentle hump of earth halfway up its slope, facing Naples and the Bay. -We were a few hundred yards from a cluster of buildings—perhaps a -dozen, in all.</p> - -<p>I jumped out, stumbling and recovering myself. Rena stepped lightly -into my arms. And without a word, the Guards fed fuel to the jets, the -rotor whirled, and the copter lifted away from us and was gone.</p> - -<p>Rena peered about us, getting her bearings. There was a sliver of -a moon in the eastern sky, enough light to make it possible to get -about. She pointed to a dark hulk of a building far up the slope. "The -Observatory. Come, Tom."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The volcanic soil was rich, but not very useful to farmers. It was not -only the question of an eruption of the cone, for that sort of hazard -was no different in kind than the risk of hailstorm or drought. But the -mountain sides did not till easily, its volcanic slopes being perhaps -steeper than those of most mountains.</p> - -<p>The ground under our feet had never been in cultivation. It was pitted -and rough, and grown up in a tangle of unfamiliar weeds. And it was -also, I discovered with considerable shock, warm to the touch.</p> - -<p>I saw a plume of vapor, faintly silver in the weak light, hovering over -a hummock. Mist, I thought. Then it occurred to me that there was too -much wind for mist. It was steam! I touched the soil. Blood heat, at -least.</p> - -<p>I said, with some difficulty, "Rena, look!"</p> - -<p>She laughed. "Oh, it is an eruption, Tom. Of course it is. But not a -new one. It is lava, you see, from the little blast the Sicilians -touched off. Do not worry about it...."</p> - -<p>We clambered over the slippery cogs of a funicular railway and circled -the ancient stone base of the building she had pointed to. There was no -light visible; but Rena found a small door, rapped on it and presently -it opened.</p> - -<p>Out of the darkness came Slovetski's voice: "Welcome."</p> - -<p>Once this building had been the Royal Vulcanological Observatory of the -Kingdom of Italy. Now it was a museum on the surface, and underneath -another of the hideouts of Rena's "friends."</p> - -<p>But this was a hideout somewhat more important than the one in the -Roman Catacombs, I found. Slovetski made no bones about it.</p> - -<p>He said, "Wills, you shouldn't be here. We don't know you. We can't -trust you." He held up a hand. "I know that you rescued dell'Angela. -But that could all be an involved scheme of the Company. You could be -a Company spy. You wouldn't be the first, Wills. And this particular -installation is, shall I say, important. You may even find why, though -I hope not. If we hadn't had to move so rapidly, you would never have -been brought here. Now you're here, though, and we'll make the best of -it." He looked at me carefully, then, and the glinting spark in the -back of his eyes flared wickedly for a moment. "Don't try to leave. And -don't go anywhere in this building where Rena or dell'Angela or I don't -take you."</p> - -<p>And that was that. I found myself assigned to the usual sort -of sleeping accommodations I had come to expect in this group. -Underground—cramped—and a bed harder than the Class-C Blue Heaven -minimum.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The next morning, Rena breakfasted with me, just the two of us in a -tower room looking down over the round slope of Vesuvius and the Bay -beneath. She said: "The museum has been closed since the bomb landed -near, so you can roam around the exhibits if you wish. There are a -couple of caretakers, but they're with us. The rest of us will be in -conference. I'll try to see you for lunch."</p> - -<p>And she conducted me to an upper level of the Observatory and left me -by myself. I had my orders—stay in the public area of the museum. I -didn't like them. I wasn't used to being treated like a small boy, left -by his mother in a Company day nursery while she busied herself with -the important and incomprehensible affairs of adults.</p> - -<p>Still, the museum was interesting enough, in a way. It had been -taken over by the Company, it appeared, and although the legend -frescoed around the main gallery indicated that it was supposed to -be a historical museum of the Principality of Naples, it appeared by -examination of the exhibits that the "history" involved was that of -Naples vis-a-vis the Company.</p> - -<p>Not, of course, that such an approach was entirely unfair. If it had -not been for the intervention of the Company, after the Short War, it -is more than possible that Naples as an independent state would never -have existed.</p> - -<p>It was the Company's insistence on the dismantling of power centers (as -Millen Carmody himself had described it) that had created Naples and -Sicily and Prague and Quebec and Baja California and all the others.</p> - -<p>Only the United States had been left alone—and that, I think, only -because nobody dared to operate on a wounded tiger. In the temper -of the nation after the Short War, the Company would have survived -less than a minute if it had proposed severing any of the fifty-one -states....</p> - -<p>The museum was interesting enough, for anyone with a taste for horrors. -It showed the changes in Neapolitan life over the past century or so. -There was a reconstruction of a typical Neapolitan home of the early -Nineteen-forties: a squalid hovel, packed ten persons to the room, -with an American G.I., precursor of the Company expediters, spraying -DDT into the bedding. There was, by comparison, a typical Class-B Blue -Heaven modern allotment—with a certain amount of poetic license; few -Class-B homes really had polyscent showers and auto-cooks.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was the section on warfare, however, that was most impressive. It -was in the far back of the building, in a large chamber anchored to -bedrock. It held a frightening display of weapons, from a Tiger Tank -to a gas-gun. Bulking over everything else in the room, even the tank, -was the thirty-foot height of a Hell-bomb in a four-story display. I -looked at it a second time, vaguely disturbed by something I hadn't -quite placed—an indigo gleam to the metal of the warhead, with a hint -of evil under its lacquered sheen....</p> - -<p>It was cobalt. I bent to read the legend: <i>This is the casing of the -actual cobalt bomb that would have been used on Washington if the Short -War had lasted one more day. It is calculated that, loaded with a Mark -XII hydrogen-lithium bomb, sufficient radioactive Cobalt-60 would have -been transmuted to end all life on Earth within thirty days.</i></p> - -<p>I looked at it again, shuddering.</p> - -<p>Oh, it was safe enough now. Until the hydrogen reaction could turn the -ordinary cobalt sheathing into the deadly isotope-60, it was just such -stuff as was used to alloy magnets and make cobalt glass. It was even -more valuable as a museum piece than as the highly purified metal.</p> - -<p>Score one for the Company. They'd put a stop to that danger. Nobody -would have a chance to arm it and send it off now. No small war would -find it more useful than the bomb it would need—and no principality -would risk the Company's wrath in using it. And while the conspiracy -might have planes and helicopters, the fissionable material was too -rigidly under Company control for them to have a chance. The Super -Hell-bomb would never go off. And that was something that might mean -more to the Company's credit than anything else.</p> - -<p>Maybe it was possible that in this controversy <i>both</i> sides were right. -And, of course, there was the obvious corollary.</p> - -<p>I continued my wandering, looking at the exhibits, the rubble of the -museum's previous history. The cast of the Pompeiian gladiator, caught -by the cinder-fall in full flight, his straining body reproduced to -every contorted line by the incandescent ashes that had encased him. -The carefully chipped and labeled samples from the lava flows of the -past two centuries. The awe-inspiring photographs of Vesuvius in -eruption.</p> - -<p>But something about the bomb casing kept bothering me. I wandered -around a bit longer and then turned back to the main exhibit. The big -casing stretched upward and downward, with narrow stairs leading down -to the lower level at its base. It was on the staircase I'd noticed -something before. Now I hesitated, trying to spot whatever it was. -There was a hint of something down there. Finally, I shrugged and went -down to inspect it more closely.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Lying at the base was a heavy radiation glove. A used, workman's glove, -dirty with grease. And as my eyes darted up, I could see that the bolts -on the lower servicing hatches were half-unscrewed.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus9.jpg" width="600" height="401" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Radiation gloves and tampering with the casing!</p> - -<p>There were two doors to the pit for the bomb casing, but either one was -better than risking the stairs again where someone might see me. Or so -I figured. If they found I'd learned anything....</p> - -<p>I grabbed for the nearer door, threw it open. I knew it was a mistake -when the voice reached my ears.</p> - -<p>"—after hitting the Home office with a Thousand-kiloton bomb. -It's going to take fast work. Now the schedule I've figured out so -far—God's damnation! How did you get in here, Wills?"</p> - -<p>It was Slovetski, leaning across a table, staring at me. Around the -table were Benedetto and four or five others I did not recognize. All -of them looked at me as though I were the Antichrist, popped out of the -marble at St. Peter's Basilica on Easter Sunday.</p> - -<p>The spark was a raging flame in Slovetski's eyes. Benedetto dell'Angela -said sharply, "Wait!" He strode over to me, half shielding me from -Slovetski. "Explain this, Thomas," he demanded.</p> - -<p>"I thought this was the hall door," I stammered, spilling the first -words I could while I tried to find any excuse....</p> - -<p>"Wills! I tell you, answer me!"</p> - -<p>I said, "Look, did you expect me to carry a bell and cry unclean? I -didn't mean to break in. I'll go at once...."</p> - -<p>In a voice that shook, Slovetski said: "Wait one moment." He pressed a -bell-button on the wall; we all stood there silent, the five of them -staring at me, me wishing I was dead.</p> - -<p>There was a patter of feet outside, and Rena peered in. She saw me and -her hand went to her heart.</p> - -<p>"Tom! But—"</p> - -<p>Slovetski said commandingly, "Why did you permit him his liberty?"</p> - -<p>Rena looked at him wide-eyed. "But, please, I asked you. You suggested -letting him study the exhibits."</p> - -<p>Benedetto nodded. "True, Slovetski," he said gravely. "You ordered her -to attend until our—conference was over."</p> - -<p>The flame surged wildly in Slovetski's eyes—not at me. But he got it -under control. He said, "Take him away." He did not do me the courtesy -of looking my way again. Rena took me by the hand and led me off, -closing the door behind us.</p> - -<p>As soon as we were outside, I heard a sharp babble of argument, but -I could make out no words through the door. I didn't need to; I knew -exactly what they were saying.</p> - -<p>This was the proposition: <i>Resolved, that the easiest thing to do is -put Wills out of the way permanently</i>. And with Slovetski's fiery eyes -urging the positive, what eager debater would say him nay?</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Rena said: "I can't tell you, Tom. <i>Please</i> don't ask me!"</p> - -<p>I said, "This is no kid's game, Rena! They're talking about bombing the -Home Office!"</p> - -<p>She shook her head. "Tom, Tom. You must have misunderstood."</p> - -<p>"I heard them!"</p> - -<p>"Tom, <i>please</i> don't ask me any more questions."</p> - -<p>I slammed my hand down on the table and swore. It didn't do any good. -She didn't even look up from the remains of her dinner.</p> - -<p>It had been like that all afternoon. The Great Ones brooded in secret. -Rena and I waited in her room, until the museum's public visiting hours -were over and we could go up into the freer atmosphere of the reception -lounge. And then we waited there.</p> - -<p>I said mulishly: "Ever since I met you, Rena, I've been doing nothing -but wait. I'm not built that way!"</p> - -<p>No answer.</p> - -<p>I said, with all of my patience: "Rena, I heard them talking about -bombing the Home Office. Do you think I am going to forget that?"</p> - -<p>Leadenly: "No, Tom."</p> - -<p>"So what does it matter if you tell me more? If I cannot be trusted, I -already know too much. If I can be trusted, what does it matter if I -know the rest?"</p> - -<p>Again tears. "<i>Please</i> don't ask me!"</p> - -<p>I yelled: "At least you can tell me what we're waiting for!"</p> - -<p>She dabbed at her eyes. "Please, Tom, I don't know much more than you -do. Slovetski, he is like this sometimes. He gets, I suppose you would -say, thoughtful. He concentrates so very much on one thing, you see, -that he forgets everything around him. It is possible that he has -forgotten that we are waiting. I don't know."</p> - -<p>I snarled, "I'm tired of this. Go in and remind him!"</p> - -<p>"No, Tom!" There was fright in her voice; and I found that she had told -me one of the things I wanted to know. If it was not wise to remind -Slovetski that I was waiting his pleasure, the probability was that it -would not be pleasant for me when he remembered.</p> - -<p>I said, "But you must know something, Rena. Don't you see that it could -do no harm to tell me?"</p> - -<p>She said miserably, "Tom, I know very little. I did not—did not know -as much as you found out." I stared at her. She nodded. "I had perhaps -a suspicion, it is true. Yes, I suspected. But I did not <i>really</i> -think, Tom, that there was a question of bombing. It is not how we were -taught. It is not what Slovetski promised, when we began."</p> - -<p>"You mean you didn't know Slovetski was planning violence?"</p> - -<p>She shook her head. "And even now, I think, perhaps you heard wrong, -perhaps there was a mistake."</p> - -<p>I stood up and leaned over her. "Rena, listen to me. There was no -mistake. They're working on that casing. Tell me what you know!"</p> - -<p>She shook her head, weeping freely.</p> - -<p>I raged: "This is asinine! What can there be that you will not tell? -The Company supply base that Slovetski hopes to raid to get a bomb? -The officers he plans to bribe, to divert some other nation's quota of -plutonium?"</p> - -<p>She took a deep breath. "Not that, Tom."</p> - -<p>"Then what? You don't mean to say that he has a complete underground -separator plant—that he is making his own plutonium!"</p> - -<p>She was silent for a long time, looking at me. Then she sighed. "I will -tell you, Tom. No, he does not have a plant. He doesn't need one, you -see. He already has a bomb."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I straightened. "That's impossible."</p> - -<p>She was shaking her head. I protested, "But the—the <i>quotas</i>, Rena. -The Company tracks every milligram of fissionable material from the -moment it leaves the reactor! The inspections! Expediters with Geiger -counters cover every city in the world!"</p> - -<p>"Not here, Tom. You remember that the Sicilians bombed Vesuvius? There -is a high level of radioactivity all up and down the mountain. Not -enough to be dangerous, but enough to mask a buried bomb." She closed -her eyes. "And—well, you are right, Tom. I might as well tell you. -In that same war, you see, there was a bomb that did not explode. You -recall?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but—"</p> - -<p>"But it couldn't explode, Tom. It was a dummy. Slovetski is a brilliant -man. Before that bomb left the ground, he had diverted it. What went -up was a hollow shell. What is left—the heart of the bomb—is buried -forty feet beneath us."</p> - -<p>I stared at her, the room reeling. I was clutching at straws. I -whispered, "But that was only a fission bomb, Rena. Slovetski—I heard -him—he said a Thousand-kiloton bomb. That means hydrogen, don't you -see? Surely he hasn't tucked one of those away."</p> - -<p>Rena's face was an agony of regret. "I do not understand all these -things, so you must bear with me. I know this; there has been secret -talk about the Milanese generators, and I know that the talk has to -do with heavy water. And I am not stupid altogether, I know that from -heavy water one can get what is used in a hydrogen bomb. And there is -more, of course—lithium, perhaps? But he has that. You have seen it, I -think. It is on a pedestal in this building."</p> - -<p>I sat down hard. It was impossible. But it all fell into place. -Given the fissionable core of the bomb—plus the deuterium, plus the -lithium-bearing shell—it was no great feat to put the parts together -and make a Hell-bomb.</p> - -<p>The mind rejected it; it was too fantastic. It was frightful and -terrifying, and worst of all was that something lurking at the -threshold of memory, something about that bomb on display in the -museum....</p> - -<p>And, of course, I remembered.</p> - -<p>"Rena!" I said, struggling for breath. I nearly could not go on, it was -too dreadful to say. "Rena! Have you ever looked at that bomb? Have you -read the placard on it? <i>That bomb is cobalt!</i>"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">XI</p> - -<p>From the moment I had heard those piercing words from Slovetski's -mouth, I had been obsessed with a vision. A Hell-bomb on the Home -Office. America's eastern seaboard split open. New York a hole in the -ocean, from Kingston to Sandy Hook; orange flames spreading across -Connecticut and the Pennsylvania corner.</p> - -<p>That was gone—and in its place was something worse.</p> - -<p>Radiocobalt bombing wouldn't simply kill locally by a gout of flaring -radiation. It would leave the atmosphere filled with colloidal -particles of deadly, radioactive Cobalt-60. A little of that could be -used to cure cancers and perform miracles. The amount released from -the sheathing of cobalt—normal, "safe" cobalt—around a fissioning -hydrogen bomb could kill a world. A single bomb of that kind could wipe -out all life on Earth, as I remembered my schooling.</p> - -<p>I'm no physicist; I didn't know what the quantities involved might -mean, once the equations came off the drafting paper and settled like -a ravening storm on the human race. But I had a glimpse of radioactive -dust in every breeze, in every corner of every land. Perhaps a handful -of persons in Cambodia or Vladivostok or Melbourne might live through -it. But there was no question in my mind: If that bomb went off, it was -the end of our civilization.</p> - -<p>I saw it clearly.</p> - -<p>And so, having betrayed the Company to Slovetski's gang, I came full -circle.</p> - -<p>Even Judas betrayed only One.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Getting away from the Observatory was simple enough, with Rena shocked -and confused enough to look the other way. Finding a telephone near -Mount Vesuvius was much harder.</p> - -<p>I was two miles from the mountain before I found what I was looking -for—a Blue Wing fully-automatic filling station. The electronic -scanners clucked worriedly, as they searched for the car I should have -been driving, and the policy-punching slot glowed red and receptive, -waiting for my order. I ignored them.</p> - -<p>What I wanted was inside the little unlocked building—A -hushaphone-booth with vision attachment. The important thing was to -talk direct to Defoe and only to Defoe. In the vision screen, impedance -mismatch would make the picture waver if there was anyone uninvited -listening in.</p> - -<p>But I left the screen off while I put through my call. The office -servo-operator (it was well after business hours) answered blandly, and -I said: "Connect me with Defoe, crash priority."</p> - -<p>It was set to handle priority matters on a priority basis; there was -neither fuss nor argument, though a persistent buzzing in the innards -of the phone showed that, even while the robot was locating Defoe for -me, it was double-checking the connection to find out why there was no -vision on the screen.</p> - -<p>It said briskly, "Stand by, sir," and I was connected with Defoe's -line—on a remote hookup with the hotel where he was staying, I -guessed. I flicked the screen open.</p> - -<p>But it wasn't Defoe on the other end of the line. It was Susan -Manchester, with that uncharacteristic, oddly efficient look she had -shown at the vaults.</p> - -<p>She said crisply, and not at all surprised: "Tom Wills."</p> - -<p>"That's right," I said, thinking quickly. Well, it didn't much matter. -I should have realized that Defoe's secretary, howsoever temporary, -would be taking his calls. I said rapidly: "Susan, I can't talk to you. -It has to be Defoe. Take my word for it, it's important. Please put him -on."</p> - -<p>She gave me no more of an argument than the robot had.</p> - -<p>In a second, Defoe was on the screen, and I put Susan out of my mind. -She must have said something to him, because the big, handsome face was -unsurprised, though the eyes were contracted. "Wills!" he snapped. "You -fool! Where are you?"</p> - -<p>I said, "Mr. Defoe, I have to talk to you. It's a very urgent matter."</p> - -<p>"Come in and do it, Wills! Not over the telephone."</p> - -<p>I shook my head. "No, sir. I can't. It's too, well, risky."</p> - -<p>"Risky for you, you mean!" The words were icily disgusted. "Wills, you -have betrayed me. No man ever got away with that. You're imposing on -me, playing on my family loyalty to your dead wife, and I want to tell -you that you won't get away with it. There's a murder charge against -you, Wills! Come in and talk to me—or else the police will pick you up -before noon."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I said with an effort, "I don't mean to impose on any loyalty, but, in -common decency, you ought to hear—"</p> - -<p>"Decency!" His face was cold. "You talk about decency! You and that -dell'Angela traitor you joined. Decency! Wills, you're a disgrace to -the memory of a decent and honest woman like Marianna. I can only say -that I am glad—glad, do you hear me?—that she's dead and rid of you."</p> - -<p>I said, "Wait a minute, Defoe! Leave Marianna out of this. I only—"</p> - -<p>"Don't interrupt me! God, to think a man I trusted should turn out to -be Judas himself! You animal, the Company has protected you from the -day you were born, and you try to destroy it. Why, you pitiful idiot, -you aren't fit to associate with the dogs in the kennel of a decent -human being!"</p> - -<p>There was more. Much, much more. It was a flow of abuse that paralyzed -me, less because of what he said than because of who was saying it. -Suave, competent Defoe, ranting at me like a wounded Gogarty! I -couldn't have been more astonished if the portrait of Millen Carmody -had whispered a bawdy joke from the frontispiece of the Handbook.</p> - -<p>I stood there, too amazed to be furious, listening to the tirade from -the midget image in the viewplate. It must have lasted for three or -four minutes; then, almost in mid-breath, Defoe glanced at something -outside my range of vision, and stopped his stream of abuse. I started -to cut in while I could, but he held up one hand quickly.</p> - -<p>He smiled gently. Very calmly, as though he had not been damning me a -moment before, he said: "I shall be very interested to hear what you -have to say."</p> - -<p>That floored me. It took me a second to shake the cobwebs out of my -brain before I said waspishly, "If you hadn't gone through all that -jabber, you would have heard it long ago."</p> - -<p>The midget in the scanner shrugged urbanely. "True," he conceded. "But -then, Thomas, I wouldn't have had you."</p> - -<p>And he reached forward and clicked off the phone. Tricked! Tricked and -trapped! I cursed myself for stupidity. While he kept me on the line, -the call was being traced—there was no other explanation. And I had -fallen for it!</p> - -<p>I slapped the door of the booth open and leaped out.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus12.jpg" width="354" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>I got perhaps ten feet from the booth.</p> - -<p>Then a rope dropped over my shoulders. Its noose yanked tight around my -arms, and I was being dragged up, kicking futilely. I caught a glimpse -of the broad Latin faces gaping at me from below, then two men on a -rope ladder had me.</p> - -<p>I was dragged in through the bottom hatch of a big helicopter with no -markings. The hatch closed. Facing me was a lieutenant of expediters.</p> - -<p>The two men tumbled in after me and reeled in the rope ladder, as the -copter dipped and swerved away. I let myself go limp as the rope was -loosened around me; when my hands were free I made my bid.</p> - -<p>I leaped for the lieutenant; my fist caught him glancingly on the -throat, sending him reeling and choking backward. I grabbed for the -hard-pellet gun at his hip—he was pawing at it—and we tumbled across -the floor.</p> - -<p>It was, for one brief moment, a chance. I was no copter pilot, but the -gun was all the pilot I'd need—if only I got it out.</p> - -<p>But the expediters behind me were no amateurs. I ducked as the knotted -end of the rope whipped savagely toward me. Then one of the other -expediters was on my back; the gun came out, and flew free. And that -was the end of that.</p> - -<p>I had, I knew, been a fool to try it. But I wasn't sorry. They had too -much rough-and-tumble training for me to handle. But that one blow had -felt good.</p> - -<p>It didn't seem as worth while a few moments later. I was fastened to a -seat, while the wheezing lieutenant gave orders in a strangled voice. -"Not too many marks on him," he was saying. "Try it over the kidneys -again...."</p> - -<p>I never even thought of maintaining a heroic silence. They had had -plenty of experience with the padded club, too, and I started to black -out twice before finally I went all the way down.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I came to with a light shining in my eyes.</p> - -<p>There was a doctor putting his equipment away. "He'll be all right, Mr. -Defoe," he said, and snapped his bag shut and left the circle of light.</p> - -<p>I felt terrible, but my head was clearing.</p> - -<p>I managed to focus my eyes. Defoe was there, and a couple of other -men. I recognized Gogarty, looking sick and dejected, and another -face I knew—it was out of my Home Office training—an officer whose -name I didn't recall, wearing the uniform of a lieutenant-general of -expediters. That meant at least an expediter corps in Naples!</p> - -<p>I said weakly, "Hi."</p> - -<p>Defoe stood over me. He said, "I'm very glad to see you, Thomas. -Coffee?"</p> - -<p>He steadied my hands as I gulped it. When I had managed a few swallows, -he took the cup away.</p> - -<p>"I did not think you would resist arrest, Thomas," he said in a -parental tone.</p> - -<p>I said, "Damn it, you didn't have to arrest me! I came down here of my -own free will!"</p> - -<p>"Down?" His eyebrows rose. "Down from where do you mean, Thomas?"</p> - -<p>"Down from Mount—" I hesitated, then finished. "All right. Down from -Mount Vesuvius. The museum, where I was hiding out with the ringleaders -of the anti-Company movement. Is that what you want to know?"</p> - -<p>Defoe crackled: "Manning!" The lieutenant-general saluted and left the -room. Defoe said, "That was the first thing I wanted, yes. But now I -want much more. Please begin talking, Thomas. I will listen."</p> - -<p>I talked. There was nothing to stop me. Even with my body a mass of -aches and pains from the tender care of the Company's expediters, I -still had to side with the Company in this. For the Cobalt-bomb ended -all loyalties.</p> - -<p>I left nothing important out, not even Rena. I admitted that I had -taken Benedetto from the clinic, how we had escaped to Rome, how we had -fled to Vesuvius ... and what I had learned. I made it short, skipping -a few unimportant things like Zorchi.</p> - -<p>And Defoe sat sipping his coffee, listening, his warm eyes twinkling.</p> - -<p>I stopped. He pursed his lips, considering.</p> - -<p>"Silly," he said at last.</p> - -<p>"Silly? What's silly!"</p> - -<p>He said, "Thomas, I don't care about your casual affairs. And I would -have excused your—precipitousness—since you have brought back certain -useful information. Quite useful. I don't deny it. But I don't like -being lied to, Thomas."</p> - -<p>"I haven't lied!"</p> - -<p>He said sharply, "There is no way to get fissionable material except -through the Company!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, hell!" I shook my head. "How about a dud bomb, Defoe?"</p> - -<p>For the first time he looked puzzled. "Dud bomb?"</p> - -<p>Gogarty looked sick. "There's—there's a report on your desk, Mr. -Defoe," he said worriedly. "We—well—figured the half-masses just got -close enough to boil instead of to explode. We—"</p> - -<p>"I see." Defoe looked at him for a long moment. Then, disregarding -Gogarty, he turned back to me, shoved the coffee at me. "All right, -Thomas. They've got the warhead. Hydrogen? Cobalt? What about fuel?"</p> - -<p>I told him what I knew. Gogarty, listening, licked his lips. I didn't -envy him. I could see the worry in him, the fear of Defoe's later -wrath. For in Defoe, as in Slovetski, there was that deadly fire. -It blazed only when it was allowed to; but what it touched withered -and died. I had not seen Defoe as tightly concentrated, as drivingly -intent, before. I was sorry for Gogarty when at last, having drained me -dry, Defoe left. But I was glad for me.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He was gone less than an hour—just time for me to eat a Class-C meal a -silent expediter brought.</p> - -<p>He thrust the door open and stared at me with whitely glaring eyes. -"If I thought you were lying, Thomas ..." His voice was cracking with -suppressed emotion.</p> - -<p>"What happened?" I demanded.</p> - -<p>"Don't you know?" He stood trembling, staring at me. "You told the -truth—or part of the truth. There <i>was</i> a hideout on Vesuvius. But an -hour ago they got away—while you were wasting time. Was it a stall, -Thomas? Did you know they would run?"</p> - -<p>I said, "Defoe, don't you see, that's all to the good? If they had to -run, they couldn't possibly take the bomb with them. That means—"</p> - -<p>He was shaking head. "Oh, but you're wrong, Thomas. According to the -director of the albergo down the hill, three skyhook helicopters came -over—big ones. They peeled the roof off, as easy as you please, and -they lifted the bomb out and then flew away."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I said stupidly, "Where?" He nodded. There was no emotion in his voice, -only in his eyes. He might have been discussing the weather. "Where? -That is a good question. I hope we will find it out, Thomas. We're -checking the radar charts; they can't hide for long. But how did they -get away at all? Why did you give them the time?"</p> - -<p>He left me. Perversely, I was almost glad. It was part of the price -of switching allegiance, I was learning, that shreds and tatters of -loyalties cling to you and carry over. When I went against the Company -to rescue Benedetto, I still carried with me my Adjusters' Handbook. -And I confess that I never lost the habit of reading a page or two -in it, even in the Catacombs, when things looked bad. And when I saw -the murderous goal that Slovetski's men were marching toward, and I -returned to Defoe, I still could feel glad that Benedetto, at least, -had got away.</p> - -<p>But not far.</p> - -<p>It was only a few hours, but already broad daylight when Gogarty, -looking shaken, came into the room. He said testily, "Damn it, Wills, I -wish I'd never seen you! Come on! Defoe wants you with us."</p> - -<p>"Come on where?" I got up as he gestured furiously for haste.</p> - -<p>"Where do you think? Did you think your pals would be able to stay out -of sight forever? We've got them pinpointed, bomb and all."</p> - -<p>He was almost dragging me down the corridor, toward a courtyard. I -limped out into the bright morning and blinked. The court was swarming -with armed expediters, clambering into personnel-carrying copters -marked with the vivid truce-team insignia of the Company. Gogarty -hustled me into the nearest and the jets sizzled and we leaped into the -air.</p> - -<p>I shouted, over the screaming of the jets, "Where are we going?"</p> - -<p>Gogarty spat and pointed down the long purple coastline. "To their -hideout—Pompeii!"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">XII</p> - -<p>No one discussed tactics with me, but it was clear that this operation -was carefully planned. Our copter was second in a long string of at -least a dozen that whirled down the coastline, past the foothills of -Vesuvius, over the clusters of fishing villages and vineyards.</p> - -<p>I had never seen Pompeii, but I caught a glimpse of something -glittering and needle-nosed, up-thrust in the middle of a cluster of -stone buildings that might have been the ruins.</p> - -<p>Then the first ten of the copters spun down to a landing, while two or -three more flew a covering mission overhead.</p> - -<p>The expediters, hard-pellet guns at the ready, leaped out and formed in -a skirmish line. Gogarty and a pair of expediters stayed close by me, -behind the line of attack; we followed the troops as they dog-trotted -through a field of some sort of grain, around fresh excavations, down -a defile into the shallow pit that held the ruins of first-century -Pompeii.</p> - -<p>I had no time for archeology, but I remember tripping over wide, -shallow gutters in the stone-paved streets, and cutting through a tiny -villa of some sort whose plaster walls still were decorated with faded -frescoes.</p> - -<p>Then we heard the spatter of gunfire and Gogarty, clutching at me, -skidded to a halt. "This is specialist work," he panted. "Best thing we -can do is stay out of it."</p> - -<p>I peered around a column and saw a wide open stretch. Beyond it was a -Roman arch and the ruined marble front of what once had been a temple -of some sort; in the open ground lay the three gigantic copters Defoe -had mentioned.</p> - -<p>The vanes of one of them were spinning slowly, and it lurched and -quivered as someone tried to get it off the ground under fire. But -the big thing was in the middle of the area: The bomb, enormous and -terrifying as its venomous nose thrust up into the sky. By its side was -a tank truck, the side of it painted with the undoubtedly untrue legend -that it contained crude olive oil. Hydrazine, more likely!</p> - -<p>Hoses connected it with the base of the guided-missile bomb; and a knot -of men were feverishly in action around it, some clawing desperately -at the fittings of the bomb, some returning the skirmish fire of the -expediters.</p> - -<p>We had the advantage of surprise, but not very much of that. From -the top of the ancient temple a rapid-fire pellet gun sprayed into -the flank of the skirmish line, which immediately broke up as the -expediters leaped for cover.</p> - -<p>One man fell screaming out of the big skyhook copter, but someone -remained inside, for it lurched and dipped and roared crazily across -the field in as ragged a take-off as I ever saw, until its pilot got -it under control. It bobbed over the skirmish line under fire, but -returning the fire as whatever few persons were inside it leaned out -and strafed the expediters. Then the skyhook itself came under attack -as the patrol copters swooped in.</p> - -<p>The big ship staggered toward the nearest of them. It must have been -intentional: We could see the faint flare of muzzle-blast as the two -copters fired on each other; they closed, and there was a brutal -rending noise as they collided. They were barely a hundred feet in the -air; they crashed in a breath, and flames spread out from the wreckage.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>And Slovetski's resources still had not run out. There was a roar and a -screech of metal, and a one-man cobra tank slithered out of one of the -buildings and came rapidly across the field toward the expediters.</p> - -<p>Gogarty, beside me, was sobbing with fear; that little tank carried -self-loading rockets. It blasted a tiny shrine into rubble, spun and -came directly toward us.</p> - -<p>We ran. I didn't even see the second expediter aircraft come whirling -in and put the cobra tank out of action with its heavy weapons. I heard -the firing, but it was swallowed up in a louder screaming roar.</p> - -<p>Gogarty stared at me from the drainage trench we had flung ourselves -into. We both leaped up and ran back toward the open field.</p> - -<p>There was an explosion as we got there—the fake "olive-oil" truck, -now twenty yards from the bomb, had gone up in a violent blast. But we -hardly noticed. For at the base of the bomb itself red-purple fire was -billowing out. It screamed and howled and changed color to a blinding -blue as the ugly squat shape danced and jiggled. The roar screamed -up from a bull-bass to a shrieking coloratura and beyond as the bomb -lifted and gained speed and, in the blink of an eye, was gone.</p> - -<p>I hardly noticed that the sound of gunfire died raggedly away. We were -not the only ones staring unbelievingly at the sky where that deadly -shape had disappeared. Of the scores of men on both sides in that area, -not a single eye was anywhere else.</p> - -<p>The bomb had been fueled; we were too late. Its servitors, perhaps at -the cost of their own lives, had torched it off. It was on its way.</p> - -<p>The cobalt bomb—the single weapon that could poison the world and wipe -out the human race—was on its way.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">XIII</p> - -<p>What can you do after the end? What becomes of any plot or plan, when -an indigo-gleaming missile sprays murder into the sky and puts a period -to planning?</p> - -<p>I do not think there ever was a battlefield as abruptly quiet as that -square in old Pompeii. Once the bomb had gone, there was not a sound. -The men who had been firing on each other were standing still, jaws -hanging, eyes on the sky.</p> - -<p>But it couldn't last. For one man was not surprised; one man knew what -was happening and was ready for it.</p> - -<p>A crouching figure at the top of the ruined temple gesticulated and -shouted through a power-megaphone: "Give it up, Defoe! You've lost, -you've lost!" It was Slovetski, and beside him a machine-gun crew -sighted in on the nearest knot of expediters.</p> - -<p>Pause, while the Universe waited. And then his answer came; it was a -shot that screamed off a cracked capital, missing him by millimeters. -He dropped from sight, and the battle was raging.</p> - -<p>Human beings are odd. Now that the cause of the fight was meaningless, -it doubled in violence. There were fewer than a hundred of Slovetski's -men involved, and not much more than that many expediters. But for -concentrated violence I think they must have overmatched anything in -the Short War's ending.</p> - -<p>I was a non-combatant; but the zinging of the hard-pellet fire swarmed -all around me. Gogarty, in his storm sewer, was safe enough, but I was -more exposed. While the rapid-fire weapons pattered all around me, I -jumped up and zigzagged for the shelter of a low-roofed building.</p> - -<p>The walls were little enough protection, but at least I had the -illusion of safety. Most of all, I was out of sight.</p> - -<p>I wormed my way through a gap in the wall to an inner chamber. It -was as tiny a room as ever I have been in; less than six feet in its -greatest dimension—length—and with most of its floor area taken up by -what seemed to be a rude built-in bed. Claustrophobia hit me there; the -wall on the other side was broken too, and I wriggled through.</p> - -<p>The next room was larger; and it was occupied.</p> - -<p>A man lay, panting heavily, in a corner. He pushed himself up on -an elbow to look at me. In a ragged voice he said: "Thomas!" And he -slumped back, exhausted by the effort, blood dripping from his shirt.</p> - -<p>I leaped over to the side of Benedetto dell'Angela. The noise of the -battle outside rose to a high pitch and dwindled raggedly away.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I suppose it was inertia that kept me going—certainly I could see with -my mind's vision no reason to keep struggling. The world was at an -end. There was no reason to try again to escape from the rubber hoses -of the expediters—and, after I had seen the resistance end, and an -expediter-officer appeared atop the temple where Slovetski had shouted -his defiance, no possibility of rejoining the rebels.</p> - -<p>Without Slovetski, they were lost.</p> - -<p>But I kept on.</p> - -<p>Benedetto helped. He knew every snake-hole entrance and exit of all -the hideouts of Slovetski's group. They had not survived against the -strength of the Company without acquiring skill in escape routes; and -here, too, they had a way out. It required a risky dash across open -ground but, even with Benedetto on my back, I made it.</p> - -<p>And then we were in old Pompeii's drainage sewer, the arched stone -tunnel that once had carried sewage from the Roman town to the sea. It -was a hiding place, and then a tunnel to freedom, for the two of us.</p> - -<p>We waited there all of that day, Benedetto mumbling almost inaudibly -beside me. In lucid moments, he told me the name of the hotel where -Rena had gone when the Observatory was abandoned, but there seemed few -lucid moments. Toward evening, he began to recover.</p> - -<p>We found our way to the seashore just as darkness fell. There was a -lateen-rigged fishing vessel of some sort left untended. I do not -suppose the owner was far away, but he did not return in time to stop -us.</p> - -<p>Benedetto was very weak. He was muttering to himself, words that I -could hardly understand. "Wasted, wasted, wasted," was the burden of -his complaint. I did not know what he thought was wasted—except, -perhaps, the world.</p> - -<p>We slipped in to one of the deserted wharves under cover of darkness, -and I left Benedetto to find a phone. It was risky, but what risk -mattered when the world was at an end?</p> - -<p>Rena was waiting at the hotel. She answered at once. I did not think -the call had been intercepted—or that it would mean anything to anyone -if it had. I went back to the boat to wait with Benedetto for Rena to -arrive, in a rented car. We didn't dare chance a cab.</p> - -<p>Benedetto was sitting up, propped rigidly against the mast, staring -off across the water. Perhaps I startled him as I came to the boat; he -turned awkwardly and cried out weakly.</p> - -<p>Then he saw that it was I. He said something I could not understand and -pointed out toward the west, where the Sun had gone down long before.</p> - -<p>But there was still light there—though certainly not sunset.</p> - -<p>Far off over the horizon was a faint glow! I couldn't understand at -first, since I was sure the bomb had been zeroed-in on the Home Offices -in New York; but something must have happened. From that glow, still -showing in the darkness so many hours after the explosion as the dust -particles gleamed bluely, it must have gone off over the Atlantic.</p> - -<p>There was no doubt in my mind any longer. The most deadly weapon the -world had ever known had gone off!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">XIV</p> - -<p>The hotel was not safe, of course, but what place was when the world -was at an end? Rena and I, between us, got her father, Benedetto, -upstairs into her room without attracting too much attention. We put -him on the bed and peeled back his jacket.</p> - -<p>The bullet had gone into his shoulder, a few inches above the heart. -The bone was splintered, but the bleeding was not too much. Rena did -what she could and, for the first time in what seemed like years, we -had a moment's breathing space.</p> - -<p>I said, "I'll phone for a doctor."</p> - -<p>Benedetto said faintly, "No, Thomas! The Company!"</p> - -<p>I protested, "What's the difference? We're all dead, now. You've -seen—" I hesitated and changed it. "Slovetski has seen to that. There -was <i>cobalt</i> in that bomb."</p> - -<p>He peered curiously at me. "Slovetski? Did you suppose it was Slovetski -who planned it so?" He shook his head—and winced at the pain. He -whispered, "Thomas, you do not understand. It was my project, not -Slovetski's. That one, he proposed to destroy the Company's Home -Office; it was his thought that killing them would bring an end to -evil. I persuaded him there was no need to kill—only to gamble."</p> - -<p>I stared at him. "You're delirious!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no." He shook his head and succeeded in a tiny smile. "Do you not -see it, Thomas? The great explosion goes off, the world is showered -with particles of death. And then—what then?"</p> - -<p>"We die!"</p> - -<p>"Die? No! Have you forgotten the vaults of the clinics?"</p> - -<p>It staggered me. I'd been reciting all the pat phrases from early -schooling about the bomb! If it had gone off in the Short War, of -course, it would have ended the human race! But I'd been a fool.</p> - -<p>The vaults had been built to handle the extreme emergencies that -couldn't be foreseen—even one that knocked out nearly the whole race. -They hadn't expected that a cobalt-cased bomb would ever be used. Only -the conspirators would have tried, and how could they get fissionables? -But they were ready for even that. I'd been expecting universal doom.</p> - -<p>"The clinics," Benedetto repeated as I stared at him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was the answer. Even radio-poisons of cobalt do not live forever. -Five years, and nearly half of them would be gone; eleven years, and -more than three-quarters would be dissipated. In fifty years, the -residual activity would be down to a fraction of one per cent—and the -human race could come back to the surface.</p> - -<p>"But why?" I demanded. "Suppose the Company can handle the population -of the whole world? Granted, they've space enough and one year is the -same as fifty when you're on ice. But what's the use?"</p> - -<p>He smiled faintly. "Bankruptcy, Thomas," he whispered. "So you see, we -do not wish to fall into the Company's hands right now. For there is a -chance that we will live ... and perhaps the very faintest of chances -that we will win!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It wasn't even a faint chance—I kept telling myself that.</p> - -<p>But, if anything could hurt the Company, the area in which it was -vulnerable was money. Benedetto had been intelligent in that. Bombing -the Home Office would have been an inconvenience, no more. But to -disrupt the world's work with a fifty-year hiatus, while the air purged -itself of the radioactive cobalt from the bomb, would mean fifty years -while the Company lay dormant; fifty years while the policies ran their -course and became due.</p> - -<p>For that was the wonder of Benedetto's scheme: <i>The Company insured -against everything</i>. If a man were to be exposed to radiation and -needed to be put away, he automatically went on "disability" benefits, -while his policy paid its own premiums!</p> - -<p>Multiply this single man by nearly four billion. The sum came out to a -bankrupt Company.</p> - -<p>It seemed a thin thread with which to strangle a monster. And yet, -I thought of the picture of Millen Carmody in my Adjuster's Manual. -There was the embodiment of honor. Where a Defoe might cut through the -legalities and flout the letter of the agreements, Carmody would be -bound by his given word. The question, then, was whether Defoe would -dare to act against Carmody.</p> - -<p>Everything else made sense. Even exploding the bomb high over the -Atlantic: It would be days before the first fall-out came wind-borne to -the land, and in those days there would be time for the beginnings of -the mass migration to the vaults.</p> - -<p>Wait and see, I told myself. Wait and see. It was flimsy, but it was -hope, and I had thought all hope was dead.</p> - -<p>We could not stay in the hotel, and there was only one place for us to -go. Slovetski captured, the Company after our scalps, the whole world -about to be plunged into confusion—we had to get out of sight.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It took time. Zorchi's hospital gave me a clue; I tracked it down and -located the secretary.</p> - -<p>The secretary spat at me over the phone and hung up, but the second -time I called him he grudgingly consented to give me another number to -call. The new number was Zorchi's lawyer. The lawyer was opaque and -uncommunicative, but proposed that I call him back in a quarter of an -hour. In a quarter of an hour, I was on the phone. He said guardedly: -"What was left in Bay 100?"</p> - -<p>"A hypodermic and a bottle of fluid," I said promptly.</p> - -<p>"That checks," he confirmed, and gave me a number.</p> - -<p>And on the other end of that number I reached Zorchi.</p> - -<p>"The junior assassin," he sneered. "And calling for help? How is that -possible, Weels? Did my <i>avocatto</i> lie?"</p> - -<p>I said stiffly, "If you don't want to help me, say so."</p> - -<p>"Oh—" he shrugged. "I have not said that. What do you want?"</p> - -<p>"Food, a doctor, and a place for three of us to hide for a while."</p> - -<p>He pursed his lips. "To hide, is it?" He frowned. "That is very grave, -Weels. Why should I hide you from what is undoubtedly your just -punishment?"</p> - -<p>"Because," I said steadily, "I have a telephone number. Which can be -traced. Defoe doesn't know you've escaped, but that can be fixed!"</p> - -<p>He laughed angrily. "Oh-ho. The assassin turns to blackmail, is that -it?"</p> - -<p>I said furiously, "Damn you, Zorchi, you know I won't turn you in. I -only point out that I can—and that I will not. Now, will you help us -or not?"</p> - -<p>He said mildly, "Oh, of course. I only wished you to say 'please'—but -it is not a trick you Company men are good at. Signore, believe me, -I perish with loneliness for you and your two friends, whoever they -may be. Listen to me, now." He gave me an address and directions for -finding it. And he hung up.</p> - -<p>Zorchi's house was far outside the city, along the road to New Caserta. -It lay at the bend of the main highway, and I suppose I could have -passed it a hundred thousand times without looking inside, it was -so clearly the white-stuccoed, large but crumbling home of a mildly -prosperous peasant. It was large enough to have a central court partly -concealed from the road.</p> - -<p>The secretary, spectacles and all, met us at the door—and that was a -shock. "You must have roller skates," I told him.</p> - -<p>He shrugged. "My employer is too forgiving," he said, with ice on his -voice. "I had hoped to reach him before he made an error. As you see, I -was too late."</p> - -<p>We lifted Benedetto off the seat; he was just barely conscious by -now, and his face was ivory under the Mediterranean tan. I shook the -secretary off and held Benedetto carefully in my arms as Rena held the -door before me.</p> - -<p>The secretary said, "A moment. I presume the car is stolen. You must -dispose of it at once."</p> - -<p>I snarled over my shoulder, "It isn't stolen, but the people that own -it will be looking for it all right. <i>You</i> get rid of it."</p> - -<p>He spluttered and squirmed, but I saw him climbing into the seat -as I went inside. Zorchi was there waiting, in a fancy motorized -wheelchair. He had legs! Apparently they were not fully developed as -yet, but in the short few days since I had rescued him <i>something</i> had -grown that looked like nearly normal limbs. He had also grown, in that -short time, a heavy beard.</p> - -<p>The sneer, however, was the same.</p> - -<p>I made the error of saying, "Signore Zorchi, will you call a doctor for -this man?"</p> - -<p>The thick lips writhed under the beard. "<i>Signore</i> it is now, is it? No -longer the freak Zorchi, the case Zorchi, the half-man? God works many -miracles, Weels. See the greatest of them all—it has transmuted the -dog into a <i>signore</i>!"</p> - -<p>I grated, "For God's sake, Zorchi, call a doctor!"</p> - -<p>He said coldly, "You mentioned this over the phone, did you not? If you -would merely walk on instead of bickering, you would find the doctor -already here."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Plasma and antibiotics: They flowed into Benedetto from half a dozen -plastic tubes like oil into the hold of a tanker. And I could see, in -the moments when I watched, the color come back into his face, and the -sunken eyes seem to come back to life.</p> - -<p>The doctor gave him a sedative that made him sleep, and explained to -us that Benedetto was an old man for such goings-on. But if he could be -kept still for three or four weeks, the doctor said, counting the lire -Zorchi's secretary paid him, there was no great danger.</p> - -<p>If he could be kept still for three or four weeks. In scarcely ten -days, the atmosphere of the planet would be death to breathe! Many -things might happen to Benedetto in that time, but remaining still was -not one of them.</p> - -<p>Zorchi retired to his own quarters, once the doctor was gone, and Rena -and I left Benedetto to sleep.</p> - -<p>We found a television set and turned it on, listening for word of -the cobalt-bomb. We got recorded <i>canzoni</i> sung by a reedy tenor. We -dialed, and found the Neapolitan equivalent of a soap opera, complete -with the wise, fat old mother and the sobbing new daughter-in-law. It -was like that on all the stations, while Rena and I stared at each -other in disbelief.</p> - -<p>Finally, at the regular hourly newscast, we got a flicker: "An -unidentified explosion," the announcer was saying, "far out at sea, -caused alarm to many persons last night. Although the origins are not -known, it is thought that there is no danger. However, there has been -temporary disturbance to all long-lines communications, and air travel -is grounded while the explosion is being investigated."</p> - -<p>We switched to the radio: it was true. Only the UHF television bands -were on the air.</p> - -<p>I said, "I can't figure that. If there's enough disturbance to ruin -long-distance transmission, it ought to show up on the television."</p> - -<p>Rena said doubtfully, "I do not remember for sure, Tom, but is there -not something about television which limits its distance?"</p> - -<p>"Well—I suppose so, yes. It's a line of sight transmission, on these -frequencies at any rate. I don't suppose it has to be, except that all -the television bands fall in VHF or UHF channels."</p> - -<p>"Yes. And then, is it not possible that only the distance transmission -is interrupted? On purpose, I mean?"</p> - -<p>I slammed my hand on the arm of the chair. "On purpose! The -Company—they are trying to keep this thing localized. But the idiots, -don't they know that's impossible? Does Defoe think he can let the -world burn up without doing anything to stop it—just by keeping the -people from knowing what happened?"</p> - -<p>She shrugged. "I don't know, Tom."</p> - -<p>I didn't know either, but I suspected—and so did she. It was out -of the question that the Company, with its infinite resources, its -nerve-fibers running into every part of the world, should not know just -what that bomb was, and what it would do. And what few days the world -had—before the fall-out became dangerous—were none too many.</p> - -<p>Already the word should have been spread, and the first groups alerted -for movement into the vaults, to wait out the day when the air would be -pure again. If it was being delayed, there could be no good reason for -it.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The only reason was Defoe. But what, I asked myself miserably, was -Millen Carmody doing all this while? Was he going to sit back and -placidly permit Defoe to pervert every ideal of the Company?</p> - -<p>I could not believe it. It was not possible that the man who had -written the inspiring words in the Handbook could be guilty of genocide.</p> - -<p>Rena excused herself to look in on her father. Almost ashamed of -myself, I took the battered book from my pocket and opened it to check -on Millen Carmody's own preface.</p> - -<p>It was hard to reconcile the immensely reassuring words with what I had -seen. And, as I read them, I no longer felt safe and comforted.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There seemed to be no immediate danger, and Rena needed to get out -of that house. There was nothing for Benedetto to do but wait, and -Zorchi's servants could help him when it was necessary.</p> - -<p>I took her by the arm and we strolled out into the garden, breathing -deeply. That was a mistake. I had forgotten, in the inconspicuous air -conditioning of Zorchi's home, that we were in the center of the hemp -fields that had nearly cost me my dinner, so long ago, with Hammond. -I wondered if I ever would know just why Hammond was killed. Playing -both ends against the middle, it seemed—he had undoubtedly been in -with Slovetski's group. Rena had admitted as much, and I was privately -certain that he had been killed by them.</p> - -<p>But of more importance was the stench in our nostrils. "Perhaps," said -Rena, "across the road, in the walnut grove, it will not be as bad."</p> - -<p>I hesitated, but it felt safe in the warm Italian night, and so we -tried it. The sharp scent of the walnut trees helped a little; what -helped even more was that the turbinates of the nostril can stand just -so much, and when their tolerance is exceeded they surrender. So that -it wasn't too long before, though the stench was as strong as ever, we -hardly noticed it.</p> - -<p>We sat against the thick trunk of a tree, and Rena's head fitted -naturally against my shoulder. She was silent for a time, and so was -I—it seemed good to have silence, after violent struggle and death.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus14.jpg" width="354" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Then she said: "Strange man."</p> - -<p>"Me?"</p> - -<p>"No. Oh, yes, Tom, if it comes to that, you, too. But I was thinking -just now of Zorchi. Is it true, what you told me of his growing legs -and arms so freely?"</p> - -<p>"I thought everyone in Naples knew that. I thought he was a national -hero."</p> - -<p>"Of course, but I have never really known that the stories were <i>true</i>. -How does it happen, Tom?"</p> - -<p>I shrugged. "Heaven knows, I don't. I doubt if even Zorchi knows. His -parents might have been involved in some sort of atomic business and -got radiated, and so they produced a mutation. It's perfectly possible, -you know."</p> - -<p>"I have heard so, Tom."</p> - -<p>"Or else it just happened. Something in his diet, in the way his glands -responded to a sickness, some sort of medicine. No one knows."</p> - -<p>"Cannot scientists hope to tell?"</p> - -<p>"Well—" it was beginning to sound like the seeds of one of our old -arguments—"well, I suppose so. Pure research isn't much encouraged, -these days."</p> - -<p>"But it should be, you think?"</p> - -<p>"Of course it should. The only hope of the world—" I trailed off. -Through the trees was a bright, distant glare, and I had just -remembered what it was.</p> - -<p>"Is what, Tom?"</p> - -<p>"There isn't any," I said, but only to myself. She didn't press me; -she merely burrowed into my arm.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the wind shifted, and the smell of the hemp fields grew -stronger; perhaps it was only the foul thought that the glaring sky had -triggered that contaminated my mood. But where I had been happy and -relaxed—the C-bomb completely out of my mind for the moment—now I was -too fully aware of what was ahead for all of us.</p> - -<p>"Let's go back, Rena," I said. She didn't ask why. Perhaps she, too, -was feeling the weight of our death sentence.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We caught the evening newscast; its story varied little from the early -ones.</p> - -<p>Benedetto still slept, but Zorchi joined us as we watched it.</p> - -<p>The announcer, face stamped with the careful blend of gravity and -confidence that marks tele-casters all over the world, was saying: -"Late word on the bomb exploded over the North Atlantic indicates that -there is some danger that radioactive ash may be carried to this area. -The danger zones are now being mapped and surveyed, and residents of -all such sections will be evacuated or placed in deep sleep until the -danger is over.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus15.jpg" width="600" height="332" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"Blue Bolt policies give you complete protection against all hazards -from this explosion. I repeat, Blue Bolt policies give you complete -protection against all hazards from this explosion. Check your policies -and be sure of your status. There is absolutely no risk for any person -carrying the basic Blue Bolt minimum coverage or better."</p> - -<p>I clicked off the set. "I wonder what the people in Shanghai are -hearing tonight," I said.</p> - -<p>Zorchi had only listened without comment, when I told him about the -bomb that afternoon; he listened without comment now.</p> - -<p>Rena said: "Tom, I've been wondering. You know, I—I don't have any -insurance. Neither has my father, since we were canceled. And we're not -the only ones without it, either."</p> - -<p>I patted her hand. "We'll straighten this out," I promised. "You'll get -your coverage back."</p> - -<p>She gave me a skeptical look, but shook her head. "I don't mean just -about father and me. What about all of the uninsurables, all over the -world? The bomb goes off, and everybody with a policy files down into -the vaults, but what about the others?"</p> - -<p>I explained, "There are provisions for them. Some of them can be cared -for under the dependency-clauses in the policies of their next of -kin. Others have various charitable arrangements—some localities, -for instance, carry blanket floater policies for their paupers and -prisoners and so on. And—well, I don't suppose it would ever come to -that, but if someone turned up who had no coverage at all, he could -be cared for out of the loss-pool that the Company carries for such -contingencies. It wouldn't be luxurious, but he'd live.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"You see," I went on, warming to my subject, "the Company is set up -so the actual premiums paid are meaningless. The whole objective of -the Company is service; the premiums are only a way to that goal. The -Company has no interest other than the good of the world, and—"</p> - -<p>I stopped, feeling like a fool. Zorchi was laughing raucously.</p> - -<p>I said resentfully, "I guess I asked for that, Zorchi. Well, perhaps -what I said sounds funny. But, before God, Zorchi, that's the way the -Company is set up. Here—" I picked the Handbook from the end-table -beside me and tossed it to him—"read what Millen Carmody says. I won't -try to convince you. Just read it."</p> - -<p>He caught it expertly and dropped it on the floor before him. "So much -for your Chief Assassin," he remarked pleasantly. "The words are no -doubt honied, Weels, but I am not at this moment interested to read -them."</p> - -<p>I shrugged. It was peculiar how even a reasonable man—I have always -thought of myself as a reasonable man—could make a fool of himself. It -was no sin that habit had betrayed me into exalting the Company; but it -was, at the least, quite silly of me to take offense when my audience -disagreed with me.</p> - -<p>I said, in what must have been a surly tone, "I don't suppose you -are—why should you? You hate the Company from the word go."</p> - -<p>He shook his head mildly. "I? No, Weels. Believe me, I am the Company's -most devoted friend. Without it, how would I feed my five-times-a-day -appetite?"</p> - -<p>I sneered at him. "If you're a friend to the Company, then my best -buddy is a tapeworm."</p> - -<p>"Meaning that Zorchi is a parasite?" His eyes were furious. "Weels, -you impose on me too far! Be careful! Is it the act of a tapeworm that -I bleed and die, over and over? Is it something I chose, did I pray -to the saints, before my mother spawned me, that I should be born a -monster? No, Weels! We are alike, you gentlemen of the Company and -I—we live on blood money, it is true. But the blood I live on, man—it -is my own!"</p> - -<p>I said mollifyingly, "Zorchi, I've had a hard day. I didn't mean to be -nasty. I apologize."</p> - -<p>"Hah!"</p> - -<p>"No, really."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He shrugged, abruptly quiet. "It is of no importance," he said. "If I -wished to bear you a grudge, Weels, I would have more than that to give -me cause." He sighed. "It all looked quite simple twenty-four hours -ago, Weels. True, I had worked my little profession in this area as far -as it might go—with your help, of course. But the world was before -me—I had arranged to fly next week to the Parisian Anarch, to change -my name and, perhaps within a month, with a new policy, suffer a severe -accident that would provide me with francs for my hobbies. Why is it -that you bring bad news always?"</p> - -<p>I said, "Wasn't I of some little assistance to you at one time?"</p> - -<p>"In helping me from the deep-freeze? Oh, yes, perhaps. But didn't -you help me into it in the first place, as well? And surely you have -already had sufficient credit for aiding my escape—I observe the young -lady looking at you with the eyes of one who sees a hero."</p> - -<p>I said in irritation, "You're infuriating, Zorchi. I suppose you know -that. I never claimed any credit for helping you out of the clinic. As -a matter of fact, I don't think I ever mentioned it. Everyone assumed -that I had just happened to bring you along—no one questioned it."</p> - -<p>He flared, "You let them <i>assume</i>, Weels? You let them assume that -Zorchi was as helpless a side of pork as those other dead ones—you let -them guess that you stuck me with a needle, so that it would seem how -brave you were? Is it not true that I had revived by myself, Weels?"</p> - -<p>I felt myself growing angry. "Of course! But I just didn't see any -reason to—"</p> - -<p>"To divide the credit, is that it, Weels? No, say no more; I have -closed the subject. However, I point out that there is a difference -between the rescue of a helpless hulk and the mere casual assistance -one may be invited to give to a Zorchi."</p> - -<p>I let it go at that. There was no point in arguing with that man, ever.</p> - -<p>So I left the room—ostensibly to look in on Benedetto, actually to -cool off a little. Benedetto seemed fine—that is, the dressings were -still in place, he had not moved, his breath and pulse were slow and -regular. I took my time before I went back to the room where Zorchi -still sat waiting.</p> - -<p>He had taken advantage of the time to improve his mind. The man's -curiosity was insatiable; the more he denied it, the more it stuck out -all over him. He had thrown the Handbook on the floor when I gave it to -him, but as soon as I was out of sight he was leafing through it. He -had it open on his lap, face down, as he faced me.</p> - -<p>"Weels." There was, for once, no sardonic rasp to his voice. And his -face, I saw, was bone-white. "Weels, permit me to be sure I understand -you. It is your belief that this intelligent plan of seeding the world -with poison to make it well will succeed, because you believe that a -Signore Carmody will evict Defoe from power?"</p> - -<p>I said, "Well, not exactly—"</p> - -<p>"But almost exactly? That is, you require this Millen Carmody for your -plan?"</p> - -<p>"It wasn't <i>my</i> plan. But you're right about the other."</p> - -<p>"Very good." He extended the Handbook to me. "There is here a picture -which calls itself Millen Carmody. Is that the man?"</p> - -<p>I glanced at the familiar warm eyes on the frontispiece. "That's right. -Have you seen him?"</p> - -<p>"I have, indeed." The shaggy beard was twitching—I did not know -whether with laughter or the coming of tears. "I saw him not long ago, -Weels. It was in what they call Bay 100—you remember? He was in a -little bag like the pasta one carries home from a store. He was quite -sound asleep, Weels, in the shelf just below the one I woke up in."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">XV</p> - -<p>So now at last I knew why Millen Carmody had permitted Defoe to turn -the Company into a prison cell for the world. He couldn't forbid it, -because the dead can forbid nothing, and Carmody was sleeping with the -dead. No wonder Defoe was so concerned with the Naples sector!</p> - -<p>How long? How long had Carmody been quietly out of the way, while -Defoe made his plans and took his steps, and someone in a little room -somewhere confected "statements" with Millen Carmody's signature on -them and "interviews" that involved only one man?</p> - -<p>It could not have been less than five or six years, I thought, counting -back to the time when Defoe's name first began to register with me as -an ordinary citizen, before I had married his cousin. Six years. That -was the date of the Prague-Vienna war. And the year following, Hanoi -clashed with Cebu. And the year after that, Auckland and Adelaide.</p> - -<p>What in God's name was Defoe's plan? Nothing as simple as putting -Carmody out of the way so that he could loot the Company. No man could -wish to be that rich! It was meaningless....</p> - -<p>Defoe could be playing for only one thing—power.</p> - -<p>But it didn't matter; all that mattered was that now I knew that -Carmody was an enemy to Defoe. He was therefore an ally to Rena and to -me, and we needed allies. But how might we get Carmody out of Bay 100?</p> - -<p>There weren't any good answers, though Rena and I, with the help of -grumbling comments from Zorchi, debated it until the morning light -began to shine. Frontal assault on the clinic was ridiculous. Even -a diversionary raid such as Rena had staged to try to rescue her -father—only ten days before!—would hardly get us in through the -triple-locked door of Bay 100. Even if Slovetski's movement had still -been able to muster the strength to do it, which was not likely.</p> - -<p>It was maddening. I had hidden the hypodermic Rena had brought in Bay -100 to get it out of the way. Undoubtedly it was there still—perhaps -only a few yards from Millen Carmody. If fifty cubic centimeters of a -watery purplish liquid could have been plucked from the little glass -bottle and moved the mere inches to the veins of his arms, the problem -would be solved—for he could open the door from inside as easily as -Zorchi had, and certainly once he was that far we could manage to get -him out.</p> - -<p>But the thing was impossible, no matter how we looked at it.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I suppose I fell asleep sitting in that chair, because I woke up in it. -It was in the middle of a crazy nightmare about an avenging angel with -cobalt-blue eyes burning at me out of heaven; and I wanted to run from -him, but I was frozen by a little man with a hypodermic of ice. I woke -up, and I was facing the television set. Someone—Rena, I suppose—had -covered me with a light spread. The set was blaring a strident tenor -voice. Zorchi was hunched over, watching some opera; I might as well -have been a thousand miles away.</p> - -<p>I lay blearily watching the tiny figures flickering around the screen, -not so much forgetting all the things that were on my mind as knowing -what they were and that they existed, but lacking the strength to pick -them up and look at them. The opera seemed to concern an Egyptian queen -and a priest of some sort; I was not very interested in it, though it -seemed odd that Zorchi should watch it so eagerly.</p> - -<p>Perhaps, after all, there was something to his maudlin -self-pity—perhaps I really did think of him as a monster or a dog, for -I was as uneasy to see him watching an opera as I would have been to -see an ape play the flute.</p> - -<p>I heard trucks going by on the highway. By and by it began to penetrate -through the haze that I was hearing a <i>lot</i> of trucks going by on the -highway. I had no idea how heavily traveled the Naples-Caserta road -might be, but from the sound, they seemed nearly bumper to bumper, -whizzing along at seventy or eighty miles an hour.</p> - -<p>I got up stiffly and walked over to the window.</p> - -<p>I had not been far wrong. There was a steady stream of traffic in both -directions—not only trucks but buses and private cars, everything from -late-model gyromaxions to ancient piston-driven farm trucks.</p> - -<p>Zorchi heard me move, and turned toward me with a hooded expression. I -pointed to the window.</p> - -<p>"What's up?" I asked.</p> - -<p>He said levelly, "The end of the world. It is now official; it has been -on the television. Oh, they do not say it in just so many words, but it -is there."</p> - -<p>I turned to the television set and flicked off the tape-relay -switch—apparently the opera had been recorded. Zorchi glared, but -didn't try to stop me as I hunted on the broadcast bands for a news -announcer.</p> - -<p>I didn't have far to hunt. Every channel was the same: The Company was -issuing orders and instructions. Every man, woman and child was to be -ready within ten days for commitment to the clinic....</p> - -<p>I tried to imagine the scenes of panic and turmoil that would be going -on in downtown Naples at that moment.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The newscaster was saying: "Remember, if your Basic Blue Bolt policy -number begins with the letters A, B or C—if it begins with the letters -A, B or C—you are to report to the local first aid or emergency post -at six hundred hours tomorrow. There is no danger. I repeat, there is -no danger. This is merely a precaution taken by the Company for your -protection." He didn't really look as though there were no danger, -however. He looked like a man confronted by a ghost.</p> - -<p>I switched to another channel. An equally harried-looking announcer: -"—reported by a team of four physicists from the Royal University to -have produced a serious concentration of radioactive byproducts in the -upper atmosphere. It is hoped that the cloud of dangerous gases will -veer southward and pass harmlessly through the Eastern Mediterranean; -however, strictly as a precautionary measure, it is essential that -every person in this area be placed in a safety zone during the danger -period, the peak of which is estimated to come within the next fourteen -days. If there is any damage, it will be only local and confined to -livestock—for which you will be reimbursed under your Blue Bolt -coverage."</p> - -<p>I switched to another channel. <i>Local</i> damage! Local to the face of the -Earth!</p> - -<p>I tried all the channels; they were all the same.</p> - -<p>The Company had evidently decided to lie to the human race. Keep -them in the dark—make each little section believe that only it was -affected—persuade them that they would be under for, at most, a few -weeks or months.</p> - -<p>Was that, I wondered, Defoe's scheme? Was he planning to try somehow to -convince four billion people that fifty years were only a few weeks? -It would never work—the first astronomer to look at a star, the first -seaman to discover impossible errors in his tide table, would spot the -lie.</p> - -<p>More likely he was simply proceeding along what must always have been -his basic assumption: The truth is wasted on the people.</p> - -<p>Zorchi said with heavy irony, "If my guest is quite finished with the -instrument, perhaps he will be gracious enough to permit me to resume -Aïda."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I woke Rena and told her about the evacuation. She said, yawning, "But -of course, Tom. What else could they do?" And she began discussing -breakfast.</p> - -<p>I went with her, but not to eat; in the dining hall was a small -television set, and on it I could listen to the same repeat broadcasts -over and over to my heart's content. It was—in a way—a thrilling -sight. It is always impressive to see a giant machine in operation, and -there was no machine bigger than the Company.</p> - -<p>The idea of suspending a whole world, even piecemeal, was staggering. -But if there had been panic at first in the offices of the Company, -none of it showed. The announcers were harried and there was bustle and -strain, but order presided.</p> - -<p>Those long lines of vehicles outside the window; they were going -somewhere; they were each one, I could see by the medallion slung -across each radiator front, on the payroll of the Company.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the trick of pretending to each section that only it would be -affected was wise—I don't know. It was working, and I suppose that -is the touchstone of wisdom. Naples knew that something was going on -in Rome, of course, but was doubtful about the Milanese Republic. The -Romans were in no doubt at all about Milan, but weren't sure about the -Duchy of Monaco, down the Riviera shore. And the man on the street, if -he gave it a thought at all, must have been sure that such faraway -places as America and China were escaping entirely.</p> - -<p>I suppose it was clever—there was no apparent panic. The trick took -away the psychological horror of world catastrophe and replaced it -with only a local terror, no different in kind than an earthquake or -a flood. And there was always the sack of gold at the end of every -catastrophe: Blue Bolt would pay for damage, with a free and uncounting -hand.</p> - -<p>Except that this time, of course, Blue Bolt would not, could not, pay -at all.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>By noon, Benedetto was out of bed.</p> - -<p>He shouldn't have been, but he was conscious and we could not make him -stay put—short of chains.</p> - -<p>He watched the television and then listened as Rena and I brought him -up to date. Like me, he was shocked and then encouraged to find that -Millen Carmody was in the vaults—encouraged because it was at least a -handle for us to grasp the problem with; if we could get at Carmody, -perhaps we could break Defoe's usurped power. Without him, Defoe -would simply use the years while the world slept to forge a permanent -dictatorship.</p> - -<p>We got the old man to lie down, and left him. But not for long. Within -the hour he came tottering to where we were sitting, staring at the -television. He waved aside Rena's quick protest.</p> - -<p>"There is no time for rest, my daughter," he said. "Do not scold me. I -have a task."</p> - -<p>Rena said worriedly, "Dear, you <i>must</i> stay in bed. The doctor said—"</p> - -<p>"The doctor," Benedetto said formally, "is a fool. Shall I allow us to -die here? Am I an ancient idiot, or am I Benedetto dell'Angela who with -Slovetski led twenty thousand men?"</p> - -<p>Rena said, "Please! You're sick!"</p> - -<p>"Enough." Benedetto wavered, but stood erect. "I have telephoned. I -have learned a great deal. The movement—" he leaned against the wall -for support—"was not planned by fools. We knew there might be bad -days; we do not collapse because a few of us are put out of service by -the Company. I have certain emergency numbers to call; I call them. And -I find—" he paused dramatically—"that there is news. Slovetski has -escaped!"</p> - -<p>I said, "That's impossible! Defoe wouldn't let him go!"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps Slovetski did not consult him," Benedetto said with dignity. -"At any rate, he is free and not far from here. And he is the answer -we have sought, you understand."</p> - -<p>"How?" I demanded. "What can he do that we can't?"</p> - -<p>Benedetto smiled indulgently, though the smile was strained. His wound -must have been giving him hell; it had had just enough time to stiffen -up. He said, "Leave that to Slovetski, Thomas. It is his métier, not -yours. I shall go to him now."</p> - -<p>Well, I did what I could; but Benedetto was an iron-necked old man. I -forbade him to leave and he laughed at me. I begged him to stay and he -thanked me—and refused. Finally I abandoned him to Rena and Zorchi.</p> - -<p>Zorchi gave up almost at once. "A majestic man!" he said admiringly, as -he rolled into the room where I was waiting, on his little power cart. -"One cannot reason with him."</p> - -<p>And Rena, in time, gave up, too. But not easily. She was weeping when -she rejoined me.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She had been unable even to get him to let her join him, or to consider -taking someone else with him; he said it was his job alone. She didn't -even know where he was going. He had said it was not permissible, in so -critical a situation, for him to tell where Slovetski was.</p> - -<p>Zorchi coughed. "As to that," he said, "I have already taken the -liberty of instructing one of my associates to be ready. If the Signore -has gone to meet Slovetski, my man is following him...."</p> - -<p>So we waited, while the television announcers grew more and more -grim-lipped and imperative.</p> - -<p>I listened with only half my mind. Part of my thoughts were with -Benedetto, who should have been in a hospital instead of wandering -around on some dangerous mission. And partly I was still filled with -the spectacle that was unfolding before us.</p> - -<p>It was not merely a matter of preserving human lives. It was almost as -important to provide the newly awakened men and women, fifty years from -now, with food to eat and the homes and tools and other things that -would be needed.</p> - -<p>Factories and transportation gear—according to the telecasts—were -being shut down and sealed to stand up under the time that would -pass—"weeks," according to the telecast, but who needed to seal a -tool in oil for a few weeks? Instructions were coming hourly over -the air on what should be protected in each home, and how it was to -be done. Probably even fifty years would not seriously damage most -of the world's equipment—if the plans we heard on the air could be -efficiently carried out.</p> - -<p>But the farms were another matter. The preserving of seeds was -routine, but I couldn't help wondering what these flat Italian fields -would look like in fifty untended years. Would the radiocobalt -sterilize even the weeds? I didn't think so, but I didn't know. If not, -would the Italian peninsula once again find itself covered with the -dense forests that Caesar had marched through, where Spartacus and his -runaway slaves had lurked and struck out against the Senators?</p> - -<p>And how many millions would die while the forests were being cleared -off the face of the Earth again to make way for grain? Synthetic foods -and food from the sea might solve that—the Company could find a way. -But what about the mines—three, four and five thousand feet down—when -the pumps were shut off and the underground water seeped in? What about -the rails that the trains rode on? You could cosmoline the engines, -perhaps, but how could you protect a million miles of track from the -rains of fifty years?</p> - -<p>So I sat there, watching the television and waiting. Rena was too -nervous to stay in one place. Zorchi had mysterious occupations of his -own. I sat and stared at the cathode screen.</p> - -<p>Until the door opened behind me, and I turned to look.</p> - -<p>Rena was standing there. Her face was an ivory mask. She clutched the -door as her father had a few hours before; I think she looked weaker -and sicker than he.</p> - -<p>I said, for the first time, "Darling!" She stood silent, staring at me. -I asked apprehensively, "What is it?"</p> - -<p>The pale lips opened, but it was a moment before she could frame the -words. Then her voice was hard to hear. "My father," she said. "He -reached the place where he was meeting Slovetski, but the expediters -were there before him. They shot him down in the street. And they are -on their way here."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">XVI</p> - -<p>It was quick and brutal. Somehow Benedetto had been betrayed; the -expediters had known where he had come from. And that was the end of -that.</p> - -<p>They came swarming down on us in waves, at least a hundred of them, to -capture a man, a girl and a cripple—Zorchi's servants had deserted us, -melting into the hemp fields like roaches into a garbage dump. Zorchi -had a little gun, a Beretta; he fired it once and wounded a man.</p> - -<p>The rest was short and unpleasant.</p> - -<p>They bound us and gagged us and flew us, trussed like game for the -spit, to the clinic. I caught a glimpse of milling mobs outside the -long, low walls as we came down. Then all I could see was the roof of -the copter garage.</p> - -<p>We were brought to a tiny room where Defoe sat at a desk. The -Underwriter was smiling. "Hello, Thomas," he said, his eyes studying -the bruise on my cheek. He turned toward Rena consideringly. "So this -is your choice, eh, Thomas?" He studied Rena coolly. "Hardly my type. -Still, by sticking with me, you could have had a harem."</p> - -<p>Bound as I was, I started forward. Something hit me in the back at -my first step, driving a hot rush of agony up from my kidneys. Defoe -watched me catch my breath without a change of expression.</p> - -<p>"My men are quite alert, Thomas. Please do not try that again. Once is -amusing, but twice would annoy me." He sighed. "I seem to have been -wrong about you, Thomas. Perhaps because I needed someone's help, I -overestimated you. I thought long ago that beneath your conditioning -you had brains. Manning is a machine, good for taking orders. Dr. -Lawton is loyal, but not intelligent. And between loyalty and -intelligence, I'll take brains. Loyalty I can provide for myself." He -nodded gravely at the armed expediters.</p> - -<p>Zorchi spat. "Kill us, butcher," he ordered. "It is enough I die -without listening to your foolish babbling."</p> - -<p>Defoe considered him. "You interest me, Signore. A surprise, finding -you revived and with Wills. Before we're finished, you must tell me -about that."</p> - -<p>I saw Zorchi bristle and open his mouth, but a cold, suddenly -calculating idea made me interrupt. "To get dell'Angela out as an -attendant, I needed a patient for him to wheel. Zorchi had money, and I -<i>expected</i> gratitude when I revived him later. It wasn't hard getting -Lawton's assistant to stack his cocoon near Benedetto's."</p> - -<p>"Lawton!" Defoe grimaced, but seemed to accept the story. He smiled -at me suddenly. "I had hopes for you, then. That escape was well -done—simple, direct. A little crude, but a good beginning. You could -have been my number one assistant, Thomas. I thought of that when I -heard of the things you were saying after Marianna died—I thought you -might be awaking."</p> - -<p>I licked my lips. "And when you picked me up after Marianna's death, -and bailed me out of jail, you made sure the expediter corps had -information that I was possibly not reliable. You made sure the -information reached the underground, so they would approach me and I -could spy for you. You wanted a patsy!"</p> - -<p>The smile was gleaming this time. "Naturally, until you could prove -yourself. And of course, I had you jailed for the things you said -because I wanted it that way. A pity all my efforts were wasted on you, -Thomas. I'm afraid you're not equipped to be a spy."</p> - -<p>It took everything I had, but this time I managed to smile back. "On -which side, Defoe? How many spies know you've got Millen Carmody down -in Bay—"</p> - -<p>That hit him. But I didn't have time to enjoy it. He made a sudden -gesture, and the expediters moved. This time, when they dragged me -down, it was very bad.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>When I came to, I was in another room. Zorchi and Rena were with me, -but not Defoe. It was a preparation chamber, racked with instruments, -furnished with surgical benches.</p> - -<p>A telescreen was flickering and blaring unheeded at one end of the -room. I caught a glimpse of scenes of men, women and children standing -in line, going in orderly queues through the medical inspections, -filing into the clinic and its local branch stations for the sleep -drug. The scenes were all in Naples; but they must have been, with -local variations, on every telescreen on the globe.</p> - -<p>Dr. Lawton appeared. He commanded coldly: "Take your clothes off."</p> - -<p>I think that was the most humiliating moment of all.</p> - -<p>It was, of course, only a medical formality. I knew that the suspendees -had to be nude in their racks. But the very impersonality of the -proceeding made it ugly. Reluctantly I began to undress, as did Rena, -silent and withdrawn, and Zorchi, sputtering anger and threats. My -whole body was a mass of redness; in a few hours the red would turn to -purple and black, where the hoses of the expediters had caressed me.</p> - -<p>Or did a suspendee bruise? Probably not. But it was small satisfaction.</p> - -<p>Lawton was looking smug; no doubt he had insisted on the privilege of -putting us under himself after I'd blamed him for Zorchi's escape. I -couldn't blame him; I would have returned the favor with great joy.</p> - -<p>Well, I had wanted to reach Millen Carmody, and Defoe was granting my -wish. We might even lie on adjacent racks in Bay 100. After what I'd -told Defoe, we should rate such reserved space!</p> - -<p>Lawton approached with the hypospray, and a pair of expediters grabbed -my arms. He said: "I want to leave one thought with you, Wills. Maybe -it will give you some comfort." His smirk told me that it certainly -would not. "Only Defoe and I can open Bay 100," he reminded me. "I -don't think either of us will; and I expect you will stay there a long, -long time."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus13.jpg" width="600" height="407" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>He experimentally squirted a faint mist from the tip of the hypospray -and nodded satisfaction. He went on: "The suspension is effective for -a long time—several hundred years, perhaps. But not forever. In time -the enzymes of the body begin to digest the body itself." He pursed his -lips thoughtfully. "I don't know if the sleeping brain knows it is pain -or not. If it does, you'll know what it feels like to dissolve in your -own gutwash...."</p> - -<p>He smiled. "Good night," he crooned, and bent over my arm.</p> - -<p>The spray from the end of the hypo felt chilly, but not at all painful. -It was as though I had been touched with ice; the cold clung, and -spread.</p> - -<p>I was vaguely conscious of being dumped on one of the surgical tables, -even more vaguely aware of seeing Rena slumping across another.</p> - -<p>The light in the room yellowed, flickered and went out.</p> - -<p>I thought I heard Rena's voice....</p> - -<p>Then I heard nothing. And I saw nothing. And I felt nothing, except -the penetrating cold, and then even the cold was gone.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">XVII</p> - -<p>My nerves throbbed with the prickling of an infinity of needles. I was -cold—colder than I had ever been. And over everything else came the -insistent, blurred voice of Luigi Zorchi.</p> - -<p>"Weels! Weels!"</p> - -<p>At first it was an annoyance. Then, abruptly, full consciousness came -rushing back, bringing some measure of triumph with it. It had worked! -My needling of Defoe and my concealing of Zorchi's ability to revive -himself had succeeded in getting us all put into Bay 100, where the -precious hypodermic and fluid were hidden. After being pushed from -pillar to post and back, even that much success was enough to shock me -into awareness.</p> - -<p>My heart was thumping like a rusty cargo steamer in a high sea. My -lungs ached for air and burned when they got it. But I managed to -open my eyes to see Zorchi bending over me. Beyond him, I saw the -blue-lighted sterilizing lamps, the door that opened from inside, and -the racked suspendees of Bay 100.</p> - -<p>"It is time! But now finally you awake, you move!" Zorchi grumbled. -"The body of Zorchi does not surrender to poisons; it throws them -off. But then because of these small weak legs, I must wait for you! -Come, Weels, no more dallying! We have still work to do to escape this -abomination!"</p> - -<p>I sat up clumsily, but the drugs seemed to have been neutralized. I was -on the bottom tier, and I managed to locate the floor with my legs and -stand up. "Thanks, Zorchi," I told him, trying to avoid looking at his -ugly, naked body and the things that were almost his legs.</p> - -<p>"Thanks are due," he admitted. "I am a modest man who expects no -praise, but I have done much. I cannot deny it. It took greatness to -crawl through this bay to find you. On my hands and these baby knees, -Weels, I crawled. Almost. I am overcome with wonder at so heroic—But -I digress. Weels, waste no more time in talking. We must revive the -others who are above my reach. Then let us, for God, go and find food."</p> - -<p>Somehow, though I was still weak, I managed to follow Zorchi and drag -down the sacks containing Rena and Carmody. And while waiting for them -to revive, I began to realize how little chance we would have to escape -this time, naked and uncertain of what state affairs were in. I also -realized what might happen if Lawton or Defoe decided to check up on -Bay 100 now!</p> - -<p>For the few minutes while Rena revived and recognized me, and while I -explained how I'd figured it out, it was worth any risk. Then finally, -Carmody stirred and sat up. Maybe we looked enough like devils in a -blue hell to justify his first expression.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He wasn't much like my mental image of the great Millen Carmody. His -face was like his picture, but it was an older face and haggard under -the ugly light. Age was heavy on him, and he couldn't have been a noble -figure at any time. Now he was a pot-bellied little man with scrawny -legs and a faint tremble to his hands.</p> - -<p>But there was no fat in his mind as he tried to absorb our explanations -while he answered our questions in turn. He'd come to Naples, bringing -his personal physician, Dr. Lawton. His last memory was of Lawton -giving him a shot to relieve his indigestion.</p> - -<p>It must have been rough to wake up here after that and find what a -mess had been made of the world. But he took it, and his questions -became sharper as he groped for the truth. Finally he sat back, nodding -sickly. "Defoe!" he said bitterly. "Well, what do we do now, Mr. -Wills?"</p> - -<p>It shook me. I'd unconsciously expected him to take over at once. But -the eyes of Rena and Zorchi also turned to me. Well, there wasn't much -choice. We couldn't stay here and risk discovery. Nor could we hide -anywhere in the clinic; when Defoe found us gone, no place would be -safe.</p> - -<p>"We pray," I decided. "And if prayers help, maybe we'll find some way -out."</p> - -<p>"I can help," Carmody offered. He grimaced. "I know this place and -the combination to the private doors. Would it help if we reached the -garage?"</p> - -<p>I didn't know, but the garage was half a mile beyond the main entrance. -If we could steal a car, we might make it. We had to try.</p> - -<p>There were sounds of activity when we opened the door, but the section -we were in seemed to be filled, and the storing of suspendees had moved -elsewhere.</p> - -<p>We shut and relocked the door and followed Carmody through the -seemingly endless corridors, with Zorchi hobbling along, leaning on -Rena and me and sweating in agony. We offered to carry him, but he -would have none of that. We moved further and further back, while the -sight of Carmody's round, bare bottom ahead ripped my feeling of awe -for him into smaller and smaller shreds.</p> - -<p>He stopped at a door I had almost missed and his fingers tapped out -something on what looked like an ornamental pattern. The door opened -to reveal stairs that led down two flights, winding around a small -elevator shaft. At the bottom was a long corridor that must be the one -leading underground to the garage. Opposite the elevator was another -door, and Carmody worked its combination to reveal a storeroom, loaded -with supplies the expediters might need.</p> - -<p>He ripped a suit of the heavy gray coveralls off the wall and began -donning them. "Radiation suits," he explained. They were ugly things, -but better than nothing. Anyone seeing us in them might think we were -on official business. Zorchi shook off our help and somehow got into -a pair. Then he grunted and began pulling hard-pellet rifles and -bandoliers of ammunition off the wall.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Now, Weels, we are prepared. Let them come against us. Zorchi is -ready!"</p> - -<p>"Ready to kill yourself!" I said roughly. "Those things take practice!"</p> - -<p>"And again I am the freak—the case who can do nothing that humans can -do, eh, Weels?" He swore thickly, and there was something in his voice -that abruptly roughened it. "Never Zorchi the man! There are Sicilians -who would tell you different, could they open dead mouths to speak of -their downed planes!"</p> - -<p>"He was the best jet pilot Naples had," Rena said quietly.</p> - -<p>It was my turn to curse. He was right; I hadn't thought of him as -a man, or considered that he could do anything but regrow damaged -tissues. "I'm sorry, Luigi!"</p> - -<p>"No matter." He sighed, and then shrugged. "Come, take arms and -ammunition and let us be out of this place. Even the nose of Zorchi can -stand only so much of the smell of assassins!"</p> - -<p>We moved down the passage, staggering along for what seemed to be -hours, expecting every second to run into some official or expediter -force. But apparently the passage wasn't being used much during the -emergency. We finally reached stairs at the other end and headed up, -afraid to attract attention by taking the waiting elevator.</p> - -<p>At the top, Carmody frowned as he studied the side passages and doors. -"Here, I guess," he decided. "This may still be a less used part of the -garage." He reached for the door.</p> - -<p>I stopped him. "Wait a minute. Is there any way back in, once we leave?"</p> - -<p>"The combination will work—the master combination used by the Company -heads. Otherwise, these doors are practically bomb-proof!" He pressed -the combination and opened the door a crack.</p> - -<p>Outside, I could see what seemed to be a small section of the Company -car pool. There were sounds of trucks, but none were moving nearby. I -saw a few men working on trucks a distance from us. Maybe luck was on -our side.</p> - -<p>I pointed to the nearest expediter patrol wagon—a small truck, really, -enclosed except for the driver's seat. "That one, if there's fuel. -We'll have to act as if we had a right to it, and hope for the best. -Zorchi, can you manage it that far?"</p> - -<p>"I shall walk like a born assassin," he assured me, but sweat began -popping onto his forehead at what he was offering. Yet there was no -sign of the agony he must have felt as he followed and managed to climb -into the back with Rena and Carmody.</p> - -<p>The fuel gauge was at the half mark and, as yet, there was no cry of -alarm. I gunned the motor into life, watching the nearest workmen. They -looked up casually, and then went back to their business. Ahead, I -could see a clear lane toward the exit, with a few other trucks moving -in and out. I headed for it, my hair prickling at the back of my neck.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We reached the entrance, passed through it, and were soon blending into -the stream of cars that were passing the clinic on their way out for -more suspension cases.</p> - -<p>The glass doors of the entrance were gone now, and workmen were putting -up huge steel ones in their place, even while a steady stream of cases -were hobbling or being carried into the clinic. Most of them were old -or shabby, I noticed. The class-D type. The last ones to be admitted. -We must have spent more time in the vault than I'd thought, and zero -hour was drawing near.</p> - -<p>Beyond the clinic, the whole of Anzio was a mass of abandoned cars that -seemed to stretch for miles, and the few buildings not boarded up were -obviously class-D dwellings, too poor to worry about. I cursed my way -through a jam-up of trucks, and managed to find one of the side roads.</p> - -<p>Then I pressed down on the throttle as far as I dared without -attracting attention, until I could find a safe place to turn off with -no other cars near to see me.</p> - -<p>"Where to?" I asked. We couldn't go back to Zorchi's, since any -expediter investigation would start there. Maybe we'd never be missed, -but I couldn't risk it. If we had to, we could use some abandoned -villa and hide out, but I was hoping for a better suggestion.</p> - -<p>Zorchi looked blank, and Rena shrugged. "If we could only find -Nikolas—" she suggested doubtfully.</p> - -<p>I shook my head. I'd had a chance to think about that a little while -the expediters took us to see Defoe, and I didn't like it. The leader -of the revolution had apparently been captured by Defoe. According to -Benedetto dell'Angela, he'd escaped. Yet Defoe hadn't tried to pump us -about him. And when Benedetto set out to meet him, the expediters had -descended at once.</p> - -<p>It made an ugly picture. I had no wish to go looking for the man.</p> - -<p>"There's my place," Carmody said finally. "I had places all over the -world, kept ready for me and stocked. If Defoe let it be thought that I -had retired, he must have kept them all up as I'd have done. Wait, let -me orient myself. Up that road."</p> - -<p>Places all over the world, with food that was wasted, and with servants -who might never see their master! And I'd been brought up believing -that the Underwriters were men of quiet, simple tastes! Carmody's clay -feet were beginning to crumble up to the navel!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The villa was surrounded by trees, on a low hill that overlooked an -artificial lake. It had been sealed off, but the combination lock -yielded to Carmody's touch. There were beds made up and waiting, -freezers stocked with food that sent Zorchi into ecstasy, and even a -complete file of back issues of the Company paper. Carmody headed for -those, with the look of a man hunting his lost past. He had a lot of -catching up to do.</p> - -<p>But it was the television set that interested me. It was still working, -with taped material being broadcast. The appeal had been stepped up, -asking for order and cooperation; I recognized the language as being -pitched toward the lower classes now, though. And the clicking of a -radiation-counter sounded as a constant background, with occasional -shots of its meter, the needle well into the danger area.</p> - -<p>Zorchi joined me and Rena, dribbling crumbs of meat down his beard. He -snorted as he caught sight of the counter. "There is a real one in the -other room, and it registers higher," he said. "It is interesting. For -me, of no import. Doctors whom I trust have said Defoe is wrong; my -body can resist damage from radiation—and perhaps even from old age. -But for you and the young lady...."</p> - -<p>He shut up at my expression, but the tape cut off and a live announcer -came on before I could say anything. "A bulletin just in," he said, -"shows that the government of Naples has unanimously passed a -moritorium on all contracts, obligations and indebtedness for the -duration of the emergency. The Company has just followed this with -a declaration that it will extend the moritorium to include all -crimes against the Company. During the emergency, the clinics will be -available to all without prejudice, Director Defoe said today."</p> - -<p>"A trap," Rena guessed. "We wouldn't have a chance, anyhow. But, Tom, -does the other mean that—"</p> - -<p>"It means your father was wrong," I answered. "As of right now—and -probably in every government at the same time—the Company has been -freed from any responsibility."</p> - -<p>It didn't make any difference, of course. Benedetto had expected that -everyone must secretly hate the Company as he did; he hadn't realized -that men who have just been saved from the horrible danger of radiation -death aren't going to turn against the agency that saved them. And -damn it, the Company <i>was</i> saving them, after its opponents had -risked annihilation of the race. Defoe would probably make sure the -suspendees were awakened at a rate where he could keep absolute power, -but not from any danger of bankruptcy.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Carmody had come out and listened, attracted by the broadcast radiation -clicking, apparently. Now he asked enough questions to discover -Benedetto's idea, and shook his head.</p> - -<p>"It wouldn't work," he agreed with me. "Even if I still had control, -I couldn't permit such a thing. What good would it do? Could money -payments make food for a revived world, Miss dell'Angela? Would -bankrupting the only agency capable of rebuilding the Earth be a thing -of honor? Besides, even with what I've read, I can see no hope. There's -nothing we can do."</p> - -<p>"But if you can arouse the other Underwriters against Defoe," she -insisted, "at least you can prevent <i>his</i> type of world!"</p> - -<p>He shook his head. "How? All communications are in his hands. Even if -I could fly to the Home Office, most of the ones I could trust—and -there apparently are a few Defoe hasn't been able to retire—would be -scattered, out of my reach. A week ago, there might have been a chance. -Now, it's impossible. Impossible."</p> - -<p>He shook his head sadly and wandered back toward the library. I could -see that in his secret thoughts, he was wishing we'd left him safely -in the vault. Maybe it would have been just as well.</p> - -<p>"Cheer up," I told Rena. "Carmody's an old man—too old to think in -terms of direct action, even when it's necessary. Defoe doesn't own the -world yet!"</p> - -<p>But later, when I located the books I wanted in the library and went -out into the vine-covered bower in the formal garden, I wasn't as -confident as I'd pretended.</p> - -<p>Thinking wasn't a pleasant job, after all the years when I'd let others -do my thinking for me. But now I had to do it for myself. Otherwise, -the only alternative was to plan some means of quick death for us all -before the radiation got too intense. And I couldn't accept that.</p> - -<p>Rena had managed something Marianna couldn't have conceived—she'd -quietly relinquished her fate into my hands, gambling on me with -everything she had. Whether I wanted to or not, I'd taken the -responsibility. Carmody was an old man; one who hadn't been able to -keep Defoe from taking over in the first place. And Zorchi—well, he -was Zorchi.</p> - -<p>That night, the radiation detector suddenly took a sharp lift, its -needle crossing over into the red. It was probably only a local rise. -But it didn't make my thinking any more comfortable.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was at breakfast that next morning when I finally took it up with -Carmody. "Just what will the situation be at the clinic after they -close down? How many will be kept awake? And what about their defenses?"</p> - -<p>He frowned, trying to see my idea. Then he shrugged. "Too many, Tom. -We had plotted out a course for such things as this a number of times -in Planning. And our mob psychologists warned that there'd inevitably -be a few who for one reason or another wouldn't come in in time, but -who would then grow desperate and try to break in. Outlaws, looters, -procrastinators, fanatics. That sort. So for some time, there should -be at least twenty guards kept alert. And that's enough to defend a -clinic. Atomic cannon at every entrance, of course, and the clinics are -bomb-proof."</p> - -<p>"Twenty, eh? And how about Defoe and Lawton? Will they sleep?" It -seemed logical that they couldn't stay out of suspension for the whole -fifty years or so. There'd be no profit to gaining a world after they -were too old to use it.</p> - -<p>"Not at first. There's a great deal of final administrative work to be -done. There's a chamber equipped to keep a hundred or so men awake -with radiation washed from the air, and containing adequate supplies, -in cable contact with other clinics. They'll be there. Later, they'll -take shifts, with only a couple of men awake at a time, I suppose. They -may age a little that way, but not much."</p> - -<p>He frowned again, and then slowly nodded. "It could be done, if we had -some way to wait safely for six months. Getting back in is no problem -for me."</p> - -<p>"It's going to be done," I told him. "And a lot sooner. Are you willing -to take the chance?"</p> - -<p>"Have I any choice?" He shrugged again. "Do you think I haven't been -sick at the idea of a man like Defoe in command of the Company for -as long as he lives? Tom, my family started the Company. I've got an -obligation to restore it to its right course. If there's any chance of -keeping Defoe from being emperor of the world, I've got to take it. If -you can put me in a position where I can get the honest Underwriters -together again, where we can set up the Company as it was—"</p> - -<p>"Why? So this will happen all over again?"</p> - -<p>He looked shocked at Rena's question. "I don't blame you for being -bitter, Miss dell'Angela. But with Defoe gone—"</p> - -<p>"The Company made Defoe possible. In fact, it made him and Slovetski -inevitable," I told him flatly. "That's its one great crime. Whenever -you take power completely out of the hands of the many, it winds up in -fewer and fewer hands. Those histories I was reading last night prove -that. Carmody, what do you know about your own Company? Or the world? -Leave the consolidation of power in Company hands out of it, and what -has happened to progress?"</p> - -<p>He frowned. "Well, we've leveled off a bit. We had to. We couldn't -risk—"</p> - -<p>"Exactly. You couldn't risk research that would lead to increased -longevity—too many pensioners. You couldn't risk going to -Mars—unpredictable dangers. You had to make the world fit actuarial -charts. I remember seeing one of the first suspendees awakened. He -expected things we could have done fifty years ago—and never will do. -How many men today work their way out of their class? And why have -classes so rigidly stratified? I've been reading your own speeches of -nearly fifty years ago. I've got them here, together with some tables. -Like to see them?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He took the papers silently and began going through them, his shock -giving way to a grudging realization. Maybe without the jolt of his -awakening, he'd have laughed them off, but nothing was easy to dismiss -with the hell brewing outside. At last he looked up.</p> - -<p>"Tom, I'll admit the many times when I've been worried. I've considered -starting research again countless times. I've been aware that -dependence was growing too heavy on the Company. But we can't just toss -it aside. It did bring an end to major war, when such a war would have -ruined the Earth completely. It showed that nobody had to starve—that -hardly anyone had to lack for any necessity, or die for lack of care. -You can't throw that away."</p> - -<p>"You can throw away its unrelated power." I knew I didn't have the -answers. All this had been growing slowly in my mind since I'd first -found Benedetto a political prisoner, but a lifetime wasn't enough to -think it out, even with the books I'd found.</p> - -<p>But I had to try. "In the middle ages, they had morality and politics -tied into one bundle, Carmody. The church ruled. It wasn't good and -they finally had to divorce church and state. Maybe the same applies -to administrative politics and economics. The Company has shown what -can be done economically. The church has survived as a great moral -force outside material power. Now let's see if we can't put things in -perspective.</p> - -<p>"There's a precedent. The United States—the old government—was set -up on the idea of balance of power: an elected Congress for the people -to handle legislative tasks, a selected President to handle executive -affairs, and a Judiciary mostly independent. On a world scale, as it -can be done today—since the Company has really made it one world—the -same can be done, with something like the Company to insure economics."</p> - -<p>"I suppose every man who had any idealism has thought the same," -Carmody said slowly. He sighed softly. "I remember trying to preach it -to my father when I was just out of college. You're right. But can you -set up such a perfect government? Can I? Tell me how, Tom, and I'll -give you your chance, if I can."</p> - -<p>Zorchi laughed cynically, but that was what I'd hoped Carmody might say.</p> - -<p>"All right," I told him. "We can't do it. No one man is fit to rule, -ever, or to establish rule. Oh, I had wish-dreams, a few days ago, I -suppose, about what I'd do, <i>if</i>! But men have set out to establish -new systems before, and done good jobs of it. Read the Constitution—a -system put together artificially by expert political thinkers, -and good for two hundred years, at least! And they didn't have our -opportunities. For the first time, the world has to wait. Get the best -minds you can, Carmody. Give them twenty-five years to work it out. -They can come up with an answer. And then, when the world is awakened, -you can start with it, fresh, without upsetting any old order. Is that -your answer?"</p> - -<p>"Most of it." There was a sudden light in his old eyes. "Yes, the sleep -does make the chance possible. But how are you going to get the experts -and assemble them?"</p> - -<p>I pointed to Zorchi. "Hermes, the messenger of the gods. He's a jet -pilot who can get all over the world. And he can move outside, without -needing to worry about radiation."</p> - -<p>"So?" Zorchi snorted again. "So, I am now your messenger, Weels! Do you -think I would trouble myself so much for all of you, Weels?"</p> - -<p>I grinned at him. "You defiantly speak of being a man. That makes you -part of the human race. I'm simply taking you at your word."</p> - -<p>"So?" he repeated, his face wooden. "Such a messenger would have much -power, Weels. Suppose I choose to be Zorchi the ruler?"</p> - -<p>"Not while Zorchi the man is also Zorchi the freak," I said with -deliberate cruelty. "Go look at yourself."</p> - -<p>And suddenly he smiled, his lips drawing back from his teeth. "Weels, -for the first time you are honest. And for that as well as that I <i>am</i> -a man, I will be Zorchi the messenger. But first, should we not decide -on a plan of action? Or do we first rule and then conquer?"</p> - -<p>"We wait first," I told him.</p> - -<p>On the wall, the radiation indicator clicked steadily, its needle -moving further into the red.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">XVIII</p> - -<p>The second day, the television went off the air with the final curt -announcement that anyone not inside the clinics at noon would be left -outside permanently. Then the set went dead, leaving only the clucking -and beeping of our own radiation indicator. I'd thrown it out twice and -brought it back both times.</p> - -<p>Civilization had ended on the third day, though all the conveniences -in the villa went on smoothly, except for the meter reading that told -us nothing could be smooth. It was higher than the predictions I had -heard, though I still hoped that was only a sporadic local phenomenon -that would level out later. In the face of that, it was hard to -believe that even a few men would remain outside the clinics, though I -was counting on it.</p> - -<p>We waited another twenty-four hours, forcing ourselves to sit in the -villa, discussing plans, when our nerves were yelling for action. We -had only an estimate to go on. If we got there too soon, there would be -more awake than we could handle. Too late and we'd be radiation cases, -good for nothing but the vaults.</p> - -<p>It was a relief to leave at last, taking our weapons in the truck. -We were wearing the radiation suits, hoping they'd protect us, and -Zorchi spent the last two days devising pads and straps to cushion and -strengthen his developing legs.</p> - -<p>The world was dead. Cars had been abandoned in the middle of the road, -making driving difficult.</p> - -<p>The towns and villas were deserted, boarded up or simply abandoned. We -might have been the last men on Earth, and we felt that we were as we -headed for Anzio. This wasn't just a road, or Naples—or all of Italy. -It was the world.</p> - -<p>Then Rena pointed. Ahead, a boy was walking beside a dog, the animal's -left rear leg bound and split as if it had been broken. I started to -slow, then forced myself to drive on. As we passed, I saw that the boy -was about fourteen, and his face was dirty and tear-streaked. He shook -one fist at us, and came trudging on.</p> - -<p>"If we win, we'll have the door open when he gets there," Rena said. -"For him and his dog! If not, it won't matter how long it takes him. -You couldn't stop, Tom."</p> - -<p>It didn't make me feel any better. But now dusk was falling, and we -slowed, waiting until it was dark to park quietly near the garage. In -front of the entrance, I could see a small ring of fires, and by their -light a few figures moving about. They were madmen, of course—and yet, -probably less mad than others who must be prowling through the towns, -looting for things they could never use.</p> - -<p>It seemed incredible that any one could be outside, but the -psychologists had apparently been right. These were determined men, -willing to wait for the forlorn chance that some miracle might give -them a futile, even more forlorn chance to try battering down the great -doors. Maybe somewhere in the world, such a group might succeed. But -not here. As I watched, there was a crackle of automatic gunfire from -the entrance. The guards were awake, all right, and not taking chances -on any poor devil getting too close.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There were no guards in the vault garage. We were prepared in case -someone might be stationed inside the private entrance, as much -prepared as we could be; since Carmody had been listed as still living, -an ordinary guard who recognized him would probably let us in first and -then try to report—giving us time to handle him. But we were lucky. -The door opened to Carmody's top-secret combination.</p> - -<p>"We designed such combinations into a few doors in case of internal -revolution locally while no Underwriters were around. We never -considered having an Underwriter lead a revolution from outside," he -whispered to us.</p> - -<p>The underground passage was deserted, and this time Carmody led through -another corridor, to a stairs that seemed to wind up forever. Zorchi -groaned, then caught himself.</p> - -<p>"It leads to the main reception room," Carmody said.</p> - -<p>With the men outside, most of the guards who still remained awake might -be there. But we had to chance it. We stopped when we reached the top, -catching our breath while Zorchi sank to the floor, writhing silently.</p> - -<p>Then Rena threw back the door, Zorchi's rifle poked through, and I -was leaping for the main door controls, hoping the memory I had was -accurate. I was nearly to them when the two guards standing beside -them turned.</p> - -<p>They yelled, just as my rifle spat. At that range, I couldn't miss. And -behind, I heard Zorchi's gun spit. The second guard slumped sickly to -the floor, holding his stomach. I grabbed for the controls, while other -yells sounded, and feet began pounding toward me.</p> - -<p>There was no time to look back. The doors were slowly moving apart and -Carmody was beside me, smashing a maul from the storeroom onto the -electronic controls of the atomic cannon. I twisted between the opening -doors.</p> - -<p>"We've seized the vaults," I shouted. "We need help. Any man who joins -us will be saved!"</p> - -<p>I couldn't wait to watch, but I heard a hoarse, answering shout, and -the sound of feet.</p> - -<p>Carmody's maul had ruined the door controls. But the other guards were -nearly on us. I saw two more sprawled on the floor. Zorchi hadn't -missed. Then Carmody's fingers had found another of the private doors -that looked like simple panels here. Rena and Carmody were through, and -I yanked Zorchi after me, just as a bullet whined over his head. Behind -us, I heard uncontrolled yelling as men from outside began pouring in.</p> - -<p>It was our only hope. They had to take care of the guards, who were -still probably shocked at finding us <i>inside</i>. We headed for the -private quarters where Defoe would be, praying that there would be only -a few there.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>This passage was useless to us, though. It led from office to office -for the doctors who superintended here. We came out into an office, -watching our chance for the hall we had to take. I could see the men -who had been outside in action now. A few had guns of some kind, but -the clubs in the hands of the others were just as deadly in such a -desperation attack; men who had seen themselves already dead weren't -afraid of chances. About a score of the expediter guards were trying to -hold off at least twice their number.</p> - -<p>Then the hall seemed clear and we leaped into it. Suddenly gongs began -ringing everywhere. Some guard had finally reached or remembered the -alarm system. Carmody cursed, and tried to move faster.</p> - -<p>The small private vault for the executives lay through the -administration quarters and down several levels, before it was entered -through a short passageway. Carmody had mapped it for me often enough. -But he knew it by physical memory, which was better than my training. -He'd also taught me the combination, but I left the door to his -practiced fingers when we came to it.</p> - -<p>The elevator wasn't up. We couldn't wait. We raced down the stairs that -circled it. Here Carmody's age told against him, and he fell behind. -Rena and I were going down neck and neck with Zorchi throwing himself -along with us. He had dropped his rifle and picked up a sub-machine gun -from one of the fallen guards, and he clung to it now, using only one -hand on the rail.</p> - -<p>It was a reflection on a gun-barrel that saved us. The picked -expediters were hidden in the dark mouth of the passageway, waiting -for us to turn the stairs. But I caught a gleam of metal, and threw up -my gun. Instantly, Zorchi was beside me, the sub-machine spitting as -quickly as I could fire the first shot. "Aim for the wall. Ricochet!"</p> - -<p>The ambushers had counted too much on surprise. They weren't ready to -have the tables turned, nor for the trick Zorchi had suggested. Here we -couldn't fire directly, but the bouncing shots worked almost as well. -There were screams of men being hit, and the crazed pandemonium of -others suddenly afraid.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus16.jpg" width="350" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Shots came toward us, but the wall that protected them—or was supposed -to—ruined their shooting.</p> - -<p>Zorchi abruptly dropped, landing with a thud on his side. I grunted -sickly, thinking he was hit.</p> - -<p>Then I saw the sub-machine gun point squarely into the passageway. -It began spitting out death. By the time we could reach him, the -expediters were dead or dying. There had been seven of them.</p> - -<p>Zorchi staggered into the passage, through the bodies, crying -something. I jumped after him, blinking my eyes to make out what he had -seen. Then I caught sight of a door at the back being silently closed. -It was a thick, massive slab, like the door to a bank vault.</p> - -<p>Zorchi made a final leap that brought a sob of anguish as he landed on -his weak legs, but his gun barrel slapped into the slit of opening. The -door ground against it, strained and stopped. Zorchi pulled the trigger -briefly.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>For a second, then, there was silence. A second later, Defoe's voice -came out through the thin slit. "You win. Dr. Lawton and I are alone -and unarmed. We're coming out."</p> - -<p>The door began opening again, somewhat jerkily this time. I watched it, -expecting a trick, but there was none.</p> - -<p>Inside the vault, the first room was obviously for guards and for the -control of the equipment needed to wash all contamination out of the -air and to provide the place with security for a century, even if all -the rest of the Earth turned into a radioactive hell.</p> - -<p>Lawton was slumped beside the controls, his head cradled in his arms. -But at the sight of us, he stood up groggily, his mouth open, and shock -on his face.</p> - -<p>Defoe's eyes widened a trifle, but he stood quietly, and the bleak -smile never faltered. "Congratulations, Thomas," he said. "My one fault -again—I underrated the opposition. I wasn't expecting miracles. Hello, -Millen. Fancy meeting you here."</p> - -<p>"Search the place," I ordered.</p> - -<p>Carmody went past the two without looking at them, with Rena close -behind. A minute later, I heard a triumphant shout. They came back with -a cringing man who seemed totally unlike the genial Sam Gogarty who had -first introduced me to fine food and to Rena. His eyes were on Carmody, -and his skin was gray white. He started to babble incoherently.</p> - -<p>Carmody grinned at him. "You've got things twisted, Gogarty. Tom -Wills is in charge of this affair." He turned toward one of the -smaller offices. "As I remember it, there should be a transmitting -setup in here. I want to make sure it works. If it does, some of the -Underwriters are going to get a surprise, unless they're suspended."</p> - -<p>Gogarty watched him go, and then sank slowly to a chair, shaking his -head as he looked up at me. His lips twisted into bitter resignation. -"You wouldn't understand, Tom. All my life, worked for things. Class-C, -digging in a mine, eating Class-D, getting no fun, so I could buy -Class-B employment. Then Class-A. Not many can do it, but I sweated it -out. Thirty years living like a dog and killing myself with work and -study. Not even a real woman until I met Susan, and she went to Defoe. -But I wanted it easier for the young men. I wanted everybody to have -a good life. No harm to anyone. Pull together, and forget the tough -times. Then you had to come and blow the roof off...."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I felt sick. It was probably all true, and few men could make it. But -if that's what it took to advance under the Company rules, it was -justification enough for our fight. "You'll be all right, Sam," I told -him. "You'll go to sleep with the others. And when you wake up, you may -have to work like hell again, but it'll be to rebuild the Earth, not to -ruin it. Maybe there'll even be a chance with Susan again."</p> - -<p>Defoe laughed sardonically. "Very nice, Thomas. And I suppose you mean -it. What's in the future for me?"</p> - -<p>"Suspension until the new government gets organized and can decide your -case. I'd like to vote now for permanent suspension."</p> - -<p>His face lost some of his amusement. Then he shrugged. "All right, I -suppose I knew that. But now will you satisfy my curiosity? Just how -<i>did</i> you work the business with Bay 100?"</p> - -<p>"What happened to Slovetski?" I asked. I couldn't be sure about some of -my suspicions over Benedetto's death, but I couldn't take chances that -the man might still be loose somewhere, or else hiding out here until -we were off guard.</p> - -<p>He shook his head. "I can answer, but I'm waiting for a better offer."</p> - -<p>"Sam?" I asked.</p> - -<p>Gogarty nodded slowly. "All right, Tom. I guess you're the boss now. -And I think I'm even glad of it. I always liked you. I'll answer about -Slovetski."</p> - -<p>Defoe snarled and swung, then saw my rifle coming up, and straightened -again. "You win once more, Thomas. Your great international rebel -cooperated with us very nicely after we caught him. We arranged for -him to receive all calls to his most secret hideout right here in this -room. It netted us his fellow conspirators—including your father, -Miss dell'Angela!"</p> - -<p>She gasped faintly, but her head came up at once. "Nikolas was no -traitor. You're lying!"</p> - -<p>"Why should I lie?" he asked. "With the right use of certain drugs, any -man can become a traitor. And Dr. Lawton is an expert on drugs."</p> - -<p>"Where is he?" I asked.</p> - -<p>He shrugged. "How should I know? He wanted a radioactive world, so I -let him enjoy it. We put him outside just before we closed the doors -permanently."</p> - -<p>Gogarty nodded confirmation. I turned it over. He might even have -been one of the men waiting outside. But it wouldn't matter. Without -his organization and with a world where life outside was impossible, -Slovetski's power was finished.</p> - -<p>I turned to Zorchi. "The men who broke in will be going crazy soon," -I told him. "While Rena finds the paging system and reassures them -they'll all be treated in the reception room, how about getting Lawton -to locate and revive a couple of the doctors you know and trust?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Rena came back from the paging system, and Zorchi prodded Lawton with -the gun, heading him toward the files that would show the location of -the doctors. Gogarty stood up doubtfully, but I shook my head. Zorchi -was able to handle a man of Lawton's type, even without full use of his -legs, and I couldn't trust Gogarty yet.</p> - -<p>"You can give me a hand with Defoe, Sam," I suggested. "We'd better -strap him down first."</p> - -<p>Gogarty nodded, and then suddenly let out a shocked cry, and was -cringing back!</p> - -<p>In the split second when both Rena and I had looked away, Defoe had -whipped out an automatic and was now covering us, his teeth exposed in -a taut smile. "Never underestimate an opponent, Thomas," he said. "And -never believe what he says. You should have searched me, you know."</p> - -<p>The gun was centered on Rena and he waited, as if expecting me to make -some move. All I could do was stand there, cursing myself. I'd thought -of everything—except the obvious!</p> - -<p>Defoe backed toward the door and slipped around it, drawing its heavy -weight slowly shut until only a crack showed. Then he laughed. "Give my -love to Millen," he said, and laughed softly.</p> - -<p>I jumped for the door, but his feet were already moving out of the -passage. The door began opening again, but I knew it was too late. -Then, it was open. And amazingly, Defoe stood not ten feet away.</p> - -<p>At the other end of the passage, a ragged bloody figure was standing, -swaying slowly from side to side, holding a rifle. I took a second look -to recognize Nikolas Slovetski. He was moving slowly toward Defoe. And -now Defoe jerked back and began frantically digging for the automatic -he must have pocketed.</p> - -<p>Slovetski leaped, tossing the gun aside in a way that indicated it must -have been empty. A bullet from Defoe's automatic caught his shoulder -in mid-leap, but it couldn't stop him. He crashed squarely on Defoe, -swinging a knife as the other went down. It missed, ringing against the -hard floor.</p> - -<p>I'd come unfrozen by then. I kicked the knife aside and grabbed the gun -from Defoe's hands. Slovetski lay limp on him, and I rolled the smaller -man aside.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Defoe was out cold from the blow of his head hitting the floor. Gogarty -had come out behind me and now began binding him up. He opened his eyes -slowly, blinked, and tried to grin as he stared at the bonds. He swung -his head to the figure on the floor beside him. "Shall we go quietly, -Nikolas?" he asked, as Gogarty picked him up and carried him back to -the private vault.</p> - -<p>But his sarcasm was wasted on Slovetski. The man must have been dying -as he stumbled and groped his way toward the place where he knew Defoe -must be. And the bullet in the shoulder had finished him. Rena bent -over him, a faint sob on her lips.</p> - -<p>Surprisingly, he fought his way back to consciousness, staring up at -her. "Rena," he said weakly. "Benedetto! I loved him. I—" Then his -head rolled toward me. "At least, I lived to die in a revolution, -Thomas. Dirty business, revolution. When in the course of human events, -it becomes—"</p> - -<p>He died before he could finish. I went looking for Lawton, to make sure -Defoe was suspended at once. He'd be the last political suspendee, if -I had anything to do with it, but there would be a certain pleasure in -watching Lawton do the job.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">XIX</p> - -<p>The doors of the reception hall were closed again, but there was no -lock now. One of the two doctors whom Zorchi had trusted was there -now, waiting for the stragglers who came in slowly as a result of our -broadcast. We couldn't reach them all, of course, but some could be -saved. The men who had fought with us were treated and suspended. Even -the boy and his dog had finally reached us and been put away.</p> - -<p>In the main room of the executive vault, Carmody was waiting for -Rena and me as we came in, haggard from lack of sleep, but somehow -younger-looking than he had been since we had first revived him.</p> - -<p>He stood up, managing a tired smile. "The first work's done, Tom," he -said. "It wasn't too hard, once they learned Defoe was suspended; a lot -of the others were afraid of him, I guess. So far, I've only contacted -the ones I can trust, but it's a beginning. I've gotten tapes of their -delegation of authority to you as acting assistant Chief Underwriter. I -guess the factor that influenced them most was your willingness to give -up all hopes of suspension for the emergency. And having Zorchi was a -help, too—one man like him is worth an army now. I'll introduce you -tomorrow."</p> - -<p>He stumbled out, heading toward the sleeping quarters.</p> - -<p>Well, I had the chance I'd wanted. And I had his promise to put off -suspension until things were running properly. With time to develop a -small staff, and with a chance to begin the work of locating the men to -study the problems that had to be solved, I couldn't ask for much more.</p> - -<p>Zorchi grinned at me. "Emperor Weels!" he mocked.</p> - -<p>I grinned back. "If you ever say that seriously, Luigi, I want you to -say it with a bullet through my brain. I've seen enough cases of power -corrupting."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>For a second, he studied me. "If that day should come, then there shall -be the bullet. But now, even I must sleep," he said.</p> - -<p>Then he glanced at Rena. "I have left orders that a priest should be -wakened."</p> - -<p>She colored faintly.</p> - -<p>"You'll be best man, I suppose?" I asked.</p> - -<p>This time, even his beard couldn't conceal his amusement. "Is Zorchi -not always the best man?" he asked as he left us alone.</p> - -<p>I stared at the vault that would be my home for the next twenty-five -or fifty years—until I was an old man, and the rest of the world was -ready to be awakened. "It's a lousy place to spend a honeymoon," I told -Rena.</p> - -<p>She leaned against me. "But perhaps a good place to bring up children," -she said. "A place to teach them that their children will have a good -world, Tom. That's all a woman ever wants, I guess."</p> - -<p>I drew her to me. It was a good way to think of the future, whatever -happened. And it <i>would</i> be a better world, where the virtues of the -Company could be used.</p> - -<p>Probably it wouldn't be perfect.</p> - -<p>Even the best form of government all the experts could devise couldn't -offer a permanent solution. But it could give men a chance to fight -their way to a still better world.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">[Transcriber's Note: There are two section V headings as per the -orginal publication.]</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Preferred Risk, by Edson McCann - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PREFERRED RISK *** - -***** This file should be named 51814-h.htm or 51814-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/8/1/51814/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan 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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