CHAPTER FIVE

"I myself am but indifferent honest"

HAMILTON turned away from the door purposefully. There were things to be done, urgent things. He stepped to his phone and called Monroe-Alpha. "Cliff? In your office, I see. Stay there." He clicked off without offering explanation.

"Good morning, Felix," Monroe-Alpha said with his usual formality as he ushered him in. "You seemed perturbed. Anything wrong?"

"Not exactly. I want you to do me a favor. Say-what's gotten into you?"

"Me? What do you mean?"

"Yesterday you looked like a six-day corpse. Today you sparkle, you glow. There's a song on your lips and a hey, nonny, nonny. How come?"

"I didn't know that it showed in my face, but it is true that I am feeling somewhat elated."

"Why? Did the money machine declare another dividend?"

"Didn't you see the news this morning?"

"As a matter of fact, no. Why?"

"They opened the Adirondack Stasis!"

"Well?"

"It had a man in it, a live man."

Hamilton's eyebrows crawled up. "That's interesting, if true. But do you mean to tell me that the discovery of this human fossil is the cause of your childlike glee?"

"But don't you see it, Felix? Don't you feel the significance of it? He's an actual representative out of the golden days when the race was young-back when life was simple and good, before we messed up with a lot of meaningless complications. Think what he can tell us!"

"Maybe. What year is he from?"

"Uh... 1926, on the old scale."

"1926... let's see... I'm no historian but I didn't know that that period was such glowing Utopia. I had a notion it was pretty primitive."

"That's just what I mean-simple and beautiful. I'm not a historian either, but I met a chap last night who told me a lot about it. He's made quite a study of it. " He launched into an enthusiastic description of Frisby Gerald's concept of life in the early XXth century.

Hamilton waited for him to run out of breath, then said, "I don't know. I wouldn't know, but it seems to me your gears don't mesh."

"Why?"

"Well, I don't think this present day is everything it might be, but I will say I think it is probably the best set-up the human race has ever managed. No, Cliff, this 'Back-to-the-Good-Old-Days' stuff is the bunk. We get more for less, with less trouble, nowadays, than ever before in history."

"Well, of course, " Monroe-Alpha answered tartly, "if you have to have an automaton to rock you to sleep at night-"

"Save it. I can sleep on a pile of rock, if necessary, but I think it foolish to go out of your way to seek discomforts."

Monroe-Alpha did not answer. Hamilton saw that his words had rankled and added, "That was strictly a personal opinion. Maybe you're right. Let's forget it."

"What was the favor you wanted?"

"Oh, yes! Cliff, you know Mordan?"

"The district moderator?"

"The same. I want you to call him up and make a date for him to meet me-I mean, to meet you."

"Why should I want to see him?"

"You don't. I'll keep the date."

"Why all the fancy business?"

"Cliff, don't ask me questions. Do it for me."

Monroe-Alpha still hesitated. "You ask me to do this blind. Is it... everything it should be?"

"Cliff!"

Monroe-Alpha flushed. "Sorry, Felix. I know it's all right if you want it. How shall I get him to agree?"

"Make it insistent enough and he'll be there."

"Where, by the way?"

"At my-no, that won't do. Let me use your flat."

"Certainly. What time?"

"Noon."

Mordan came into the flat looking slightly puzzled. He looked still more puzzled and surprised when he saw Hamilton. "Felix! What brings you here?"

"To see you, uh, Claude."

"So? Where is our host?"

"He won't be here. Claude, I arranged this. I had to see you and I couldn't do it openly."

"Really? Why not?"

"Because, " Hamilton said, "there is a spy in your office."

Mordan simply waited.

"Before we go into that, " Hamilton went on, "I want to ask you one question: Did you sic Longcourt Phyllis on me?"

Mordan looked apprehensive. "Decidedly not. Have you seen her?"

"Decidedly yes. A sweet little hell cat you picked for me."

"Don't be too hasty in your judgment, Felix. I admit she is a bit startling, but she is absolutely sound. Her chart is admirable."

"Okay, okay. To tell the truth, I rather enjoyed the encounter. But I wanted to make sure you had not been trying to maneuver me."

"Not at all, Felix."

"Fine. I didn't get you up here just to ask you that. I said there was a spy in your office. I know that because our private conversation the other day leaked and leaked badly." He plunged into an account of his encounter with McFee Norbert, and his subsequent visit to the Hall of the Wolf. "They call themselves the 'Survivors Club,'" he went on. "Superficially it's a drinking club within the lodge. As a matter of fact, it's the front for a revolutionary clique."

"Go on."

"They picked me as likely material, and I played along with them, more out of curiosity, at first. Presently I found myself in too deep to back out." He paused.

"Yes?"

"I joined up. It seemed healthy to do so. I don't know for sure, but I suspect that I wouldn't have lived very long if I hadn't taken their oath. They are playing for keeps, Claude." He paused for a moment, then continued, "You know that little shooting scrape I got into the other night?"

"Yes, surely."

"I can't prove this, but it's the only explanation that makes sense. They weren't gunning for me; they were gunning for you. You are the one of the persons they have to rub out in order to put over their plans."

"What are their plans?"

"I don't know in detail... yet. But the sense of it is this: they've got no use at all for the present genetic policy. Nor for democratic freedom. They want to set up what they call a 'scientific' state, with the 'natural' leaders running things. They are the 'natural' leaders, self appointed. They have a great contempt for guys like you-synthesists-who help to maintain this present 'backward' state. When they are in control they intend to go all out for biological experimentation. They say that a culture should be an organic whole, with the parts specialized according to function. True men-supermen-sitting on top (that's themselves) and the rest of the population bred to fit requirements."

Mordan smiled slowly. "I seem to have seen all this before."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. The Empire of the Great Khans. They've got an answer for that one. The Khans were fools and did not know what they were up to. These boys know how. This is strictly 100% homegrown and any resemblance between it and the policies of the Khans is purely due to your lack of appreciation."

"So..." Mordan said nothing more for a long time. Hamilton became impatient.

"Well?"

"Felix, why do you tell me this?"

"Why? So you can do something about it!"

"But why should you want anything done about it? Wait a moment... please. You told me the other day that life is not worth living, as it is. If you go along with these people, you could make of life anything you want it to be. You could redesign the world to a pattern of your own choosing."

"Hm! I'd have some opposition. They have their own plans."

"You could change them. I know you, Felix. In any group, it's a foregone conclusion that you will dominate if you choose to. Not in the first ten minutes, but in the course of time. You must have known that. Why didn't you seize the opportunity?"

"What makes you think I could do anything of the sort?"

"Now, Felix!"

"All right! All right! Suppose I could. But I didn't. Call it patriotism. Call it anything you like."

"As a matter of fact it's because you approve of our culture as it is. Isn't that true?"

"Maybe. In a way. I never did say that I disliked the way things were being run. I just said that I couldn't see any sense to any manner of life, in any final absolute terms." Hamilton was feeling slightly bewildered. He had approached this interview feeling romantically heroic and expecting to be patted on the back for having unmasked the villains. But Mordan failed to get excited at the proper places, and insisted on discussing purely philosophical matters. It threw him off stride. "In any case, I don't want to see those conceited young punks running things. I can't see them building a Utopia."

"I see. Have you any more to tell me? Very well, then-" Mordan began to stir in the fashion of one about to leave.

"Hey, wait a minute!"

"Yes?"

"Look, I- The fact is, since I am already on the inside, I thought I might do a little amateur sleuthing. We could arrange some way for me to report to you, or to someone."

"Oh, so that's it. No, Felix, I could not approve that."

"Why not?"

"Too dangerous for you."

"I don't mind."

"I do. Your life is very valuable, from my professional point of view."

"That? Hell's delight-I thought I made it clear that there is no chance, simply none at all, of me co-operating in the genetic program."

"You did. But so long as you are alive and fertile, I am bound to take into account the possibility that you might change your mind. I can't let you risk your life, therefore."

"Well! How are you going to stop me? You can't coerce me-I know the law."

"No... no, it's true that I can't prevent you from risking your valuable life, but I can remove the danger, and shall. The members of the Survivors Club will be picked up at once."

"But, but-look, Claude. If you do that today, you haven't a full case against them. The proper thing to do is to wait until we know all about them. Arresting this one group might mean that a hundred or a thousand others would simply take cover more thoroughly."

"I know that. It's the chance the government will have to take. But we won't risk your germ plasm."

Hamilton threw out his hands. "Damn it, Claude. This is blackmail. That's what it is-blackmail! It's sheer coercion."

"Not at all. I do not plan to do a thing... to you."

"But it is, just the same."

"Suppose we compromise."

"How?"

"Your life is your own. If you want to lose it, playing Fearless Frank, you may. My interest is in your potentialities as an ancestor. My professional interest, that is. Personally, I like you and prefer that you live a long and happy life. But that's beside the point. If you would deposit in the plasm bank a few million of your gametes, I would be willing not to interfere."

"But that's just what I was saying! You are trying to blackmail me into co-operating."

"Not so hasty. The life cells you leave with me would not be stirred into being without your consent. They would remain in escrow and you could break the escrow at will-unless you are killed in this adventure. In that case, I will use them to continue the genetic policy."

Hamilton sat down again. "Let's get this straight. You wouldn't touch them, if I don't get knocked over. No tricks?"

"No tricks."

"When it's over, I can withdraw them. Still no tricks?"

"Still no tricks."

"You wouldn't frame me into a position where I would

be darned near certain to be killed, I suppose? No, you wouldn't do that. All right, I agree! I'll bet my ability to stay

alive when the shooting starts against your chance to use my deposit."

When Mordan returned to his office, he sent for his chief technician. He caused her to leave the building with him, found a suitable bit of neutral ground where there was no chance of being overheard-a bench in a deserted corner of North roofpark-and told her of his talk with Hamilton.

"I suppose you told him that all this about the Survivors Club was no news to us."

"No, " Mordan said judiciously, "no, I can't say that I did. He didn't ask me."

"Mmmm... You know, chief, you are as crooked as a random incidence curve. A sophist."

"Why, Martha!" Nevertheless his eyes twinkled.

"Oh, I'm not criticizing. You've talked him into a position whereby we stand a much better chance of getting on with the work. Just the same, you did it by letting him think that we didn't already know all about this pipsqueak conspiracy."

"We don't know 'all about it,' Martha. He'll be useful. He has already dug up one significant fact. There is a leak in our own office."

"Um, yes. That's why you dragged me away from the clinic. Well, there'll be some changes made."

"Not too hastily. We'll assume that you can trust any of the women. This scheme, by its nature, is masculine. Women are not a part of it and their interests aren't considered. But be wary of the men on the staff. I think you had better handle the deposit of Hamilton's plasm yourself-today. Better keep an eye on the women, though."

"I shall. Honest, chief, don't you think you should have told him what he was getting into?"

"You forget that it's not my secret."

"No, I suppose not. Just the same, he's much too good stock to risk in such games. Why do you think they recruited him?"

"He thinks it's because he's a handy man with a gun and rich as well. But I think you have answered your own question-he's starline stock. He's good breeding material. The 'Survivors' aren't entirely fools."

"Oh ho! I hadn't thought of that. Well, I still say it's a damn shame to risk him in such business."

"Public custodians must not permit themselves the luxury of personal sentimentality, Martha. They have to take the long view."

"Hmmm... There is something a little terrifying about a man with too long a view."

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