Vulcan's Hammer

CHAPTER 11

Director William Barris entered the massive UnityControl Building at Geneva, his armed police trailing after him. Outside the central auditorium he was met by Jason Dill.

"We haven't much time," Dill said. He too had his police with him, several dozen of them, all with weapons showing. The man looked gray and sick; he spoke in a voice barely audible to Barris. "They're pushing it through as fast as they can. All "the Directors who're against me got here a long time ago; the uncommitted ones are just now arriving. Obviously, Vulcan 3 saw to it-" He noticed the five policemen. "Is that all you could muster? Five men?" Glancing about to be sure they were not overheard, he muttered, "I've given secret orders to everyone I can trust; they're to arm and be ready outside this auditorium during the trial. This is a trial, you realize, not a meeting."

Barris said, "Who went over to the Healers? Any Di­rectors?"

"I don't know." In a bewildered manner, Dill said, "Vulcan 3 sent each Director an order to appear and a statement on what had happened. A description of my treason-how I deliberately falsified data and maintained a curtain between it and Unity. You got no such state­ment? Of course not; Vulcan 3 knows you're loyal to me?"

"Who'll prosecute?" Barris said. "Who's speaking for Vulcan 3?"

"Reynolds of Eastern Europe. Very young, very aggres­sive and ambitious. If he's successful he'll probably be Managing Director. Vulcan 3 has no doubt supplied him with all the data he needs." Dill clenched and unclenched his fists. "I'm very pessimistic about the outcome of this,

Barris. You yourself were suspicious of me until just re­cently. So much depends on the way this is looked at." Dill started through the doors, into the auditorium. "The inter­pretation that's put on the facts. After all, I did withhold information-that's true."

The auditorium was almost filled. Each of the Directors present had with him armed police from his region. All waited impatiently for the session to begin. Edward Rey­nolds stood behind the speaker's desk on the raised plat­form, his hands resting dramatically on the marble surface, watching the audience intently.

Reynolds was a tall man. He wore his gray suit with confidence, towering over other T-class people. He was thirty-two; he had risen rapidly and efficiently. For a mo­ment his cold blue eyes rested on Jason Dill and Barris.

"The session is about to begin," he stated. "Director Barris will take his seat." He pointed to Dill. "Come up here, so you can be examined."

Uncertainly, Dill moved toward the platform, sur­rounded by his guards. He climbed the marble steps and, after some hesitation, took a seat facing Reynolds; it seemed to be the only vacant one. Barris remained where he was, thinking, Reynolds has done it; he's already man­aged to cut us off from each other. To isolate Dill from me.

"Take your seat," Reynolds ordered him sharply.

Instead, Barris moved down the aisle toward him. "What is the purpose of this session? By what legal au­thority are you standing up there? Or have you merely seized that spot?"

A nervous murmur moved through the auditorium. All eyes were on Barris now. The Directors were uneasy any­how; there had never been, in the history of the Unity structure, a treason indictment of a Managing Director- and, in addition, no Director was unaware, of the pressure of the Healers, the force from outside the building, lapping at their heels. If Jason Dill could be shown to be disloyal, if a scapegoat could be made of him, one that would convince the body of Directors, possibly their inability to deal with the Healers could be explained. Or, Barris thought acidly, rationalized.

Picking up a directive lying in front of him, Reynolds said, "You failed to read the report sent you, evidently. It outlined-"

"I question the legality of this session," Barris broke in, halting directly in front of the platform. "I question your right to give orders to Managing Director Dill-your supe­rior." Stepping up on the platform, Barris said, "This ap­pears to be a crude attempt to seize power and force out Jason Dill. Let's see you demonstrate otherwise. The bur­den of proof is on you-not on Jason Dill!"

The murmur burst into a roar of excitement. Reynolds waited calmly for it to die down. "This is a critical time," he said at last. He gave no sign of being perturbed. "The revolutionary Movement of Healers is attacking us all over the world; their purpose is to reach Vulcan 3 and destroy the structure of Unity. The purpose of this session is to indict Jason Dill as an agent of the Healers--a traitor working against Unity. Dill deliberately withheld infor­mation from Vulcan 3. He made Vulcan 3 powerless to act against the Healers; he rendered it helpless, and so made impotent the entire Unity organization."

Now the audience listened not to Barris but Reynolds.

Rising, John Chai of South Asia said, "What do you say to that Director Barris? Is this true?"

Edgar Stone of West Africa joined Chai. "Our hands have been tied; we've had to stand idle while the Healers grow. You know it as well as we do-in fact, you put di­rect questions to Jason Dill yourself. You mistrusted him too."

Facing the Directors, not Reynolds, Barris said, "I mis­trusted him until I had proof that he acted in the interests of Unity."

"What was that proof?" Alex Faine of Greenland de­manded.

Beside Barris, Jason Dill said, "Show them the memory elements from Vulcan 2. The ones you reconstructed."

"I can't," Barris said.

"Why not?" With panic, Dill said, "Didn't you bring them?"

Barris said, "I had to destroy them."

For a long time Jason Dill stared at him speechlessly. All the color had drained from his face.

"When one of those metal mobile extensions got in," Barris said, "I had to act instantly."

At last some color returned to Dill's aging face. "I see," he said. "You should have told me."

Barris said, "I didn't know at that time that I'd need them for a purpose such as this." He too felt the grim futility of their position. The memory elements would have been effective proof... and they were gone. "The tapes," he said. "That you first showed me. The two final tapes from Vulcan 2."

Nodding, Dill reached into his brief case. He produced the two reels of tape, displaying them for all the Directors to see.

"What do you have?" John Chai demanded, standing up.

"These tapes," Dill said, "are from Vulcan 2. I was working under its instructions. It instructed me to with­hold data from Vulcan 3 and I did so. I acted in the inter­ests of Unity."

At once, Reynolds said, "Why should data-any kind of data-have been withheld from Vulcan 3? How could it be justified?"

Jason Dill said nothing; he started to speak, but evi­dently he found no words. Turning to Barris he said, "Can you-"

"Vulcan 3 is a menace to the Unity system," Barris said. "It has built mobile units which have gone out and murdered. Vulcan 2 was aware of this danger on a theo­retical level. It deduced from the nature of Vulcan 3 that

Vulcan 3 would show inclinations similar enough to the survival drive of living organisms to-"

Reynolds interrupted, "To be considered what?" His voice took on a contemptuous tone. "Not alive, surely." He smiled without any humor. "Tell us that Vulcan 3 is alive," he said.

"Every Director in this room is free to examine these tapes," Barris said. "The issue is not whether Vulcan 3 is alive or not-but whether Jason Dill believed it to be alive. After all, his job is not to make original decisions, but to carry out out the decisions made by the Vulcan computers. He was instructed by Vulcan 2 to the effect that the facts indicated-"

Reynolds said, "But Vulcan 2 is a discard. It was not Dill's job to consult it. It is Vulcan 3 who makes policy."

That was a strong point, Barris realized. He had to nod in agreement.

In a loud voice, Dill said, "Vulcan 2 was convinced that if Vulcan 3 learned about the Healers, it would do terrible things in order to protect itself. For fifteen months I wore myself out, I exhausted myself, day after day, seeing to it that all data pertaining to the Movement were kept out of the feeding-troughs."

"Of course you did," Reynolds said. "Because you were ordered to by the Healers. You did it to protect them."

"That's a lie," Dill said.

Barris said, "Can any proof be offered in that direc­tion?" Raising his hand he pointed at Reynolds. "Can you show any evidence of any kind whatsoever that Jason Dill had any contact with the Healers?"

"On the third subsurface level of this building," Rey­nolds said, "you will find Dill's contact with the Move­ment."

Uneasiness and surprise moved through Barris. "What are you talking about?"

Reynolds' blue eyes were cold with hostile triumph.

"The daughter of Father Fields-Dill's contact with the Movement. Marion Fields is here in this building."

At this point, there was stunned silence. Even Barris stood wordlessly.

"I told you about her," Dill was saying to him, close to his ear. "That I took her out of her school. It was her teacher who was murdered, that Agnes Parker woman."

"No," Barris said. "You didn't tell me." But, he real­ized, I didn't tell you that I had destroyed the remains of Vulcan 2. There just wasn't time. We've been under too much pressure.

"Reynolds must have spies everywhere," Dill said.

"Yes," Barris said. Spies. But they were not Reynolds'. They were Vulcan 3's. And it was true; they were every­where.

"I brought the girl here to question her," Dill said aloud, to the silent auditorium. "It was clearly within my legal right."

But very foolish, Barris thought. Far too foolish for a man holding the top position in a paranoid structure like this.

We may have to fight, he realized. Carefully, he moved his hand until he was touching his pencil beam. It may be the only way for us, he thought. This is no genuine legal proceeding; no ethic binds us to abide by it. This is noth­ing but a device on the part of Vulcan 3 to further protect itself, a further extension of its needs.

Aloud, Barris said to the Directors, "You men have no conception of the danger that exists for all of us. Danger emanating from Vulcan 3. Dill has risked his life for months. These lethal mobile units-"

"Let's see one," Reynolds broke in. "Do you have one you can show us?"

"Yes," Barris said.

For an instant, Reynolds' composure was shaken. "Oh?" he murmured. "Well, where is it? Produce it!"

"Give me three hours," Barris said. "It's not present. It's with someone else, in another part of the world."

"You didn't think to bring it?" Reynolds said, with sly amusement.

"No," Barris admitted.

"How did it fall into your possession?" John Chai asked.

"It made an attack on someone near me, and was partly destroyed," Barris said. "Enough of it survived for an analysis. It was similar to the ones which committed the murder of the school teacher, Agnes Parker, and no doubt the one which destroyed Vulcan 2.

"But you have no proof," Reynolds said. "Nothing here to show us. Only a story."

Director Stone said, "Give them the time they need to produce this thing. Good Lord, if such a thing exists we should know about it."

"I agree," Director Faine said.

Reynolds said, "You say you were present when this at­tempted murder took place."

"Yes," Barris said. "I was in the hotel room. It came in through the window. The third person who was present is the one who has the thing now; I left it with her. And she not only can produce it, she can also verify my account."

"Whom was the attack aimed at?" Reynolds said.

At that point, Barris stopped abruptly. I've made a mis­take. I am close to terrible risk; they almost have me.

"Was the hotel the Hotel Bond?" Reynolds asked, ex­amining the papers before him. "And the woman was a Mrs. Rachel Pitt, wife of the recently deceased Unity man, Arthur Pitt. You were with her in this hotel room ... I believe the Hotel Bond is in rather a run-down part of the city, is it not? Isn't it a favorite place for men to take girls for purposes generally concealed from society?"

His blue eyes bored at Barris. "I understand that you met Mrs. Pitt in line of official business; her husband had been killed the day before, and you dropped by her house to express official sympathy. You next turn up with her in a seedy, fourth-rate flop house, here in Geneva. And where is she, now? Isn't it true that you had her taken to your region, to North America, that she is your mistress, this widow of a murdered Unity man? Of course she'll back up your story-after all, you have a sexual relationship going, a very useful one for her." He held papers up, waving them. "Mrs. Pitt has quite a reputation in Unity circles as an ambitious, scheming woman, one of those career wives who hitch their wagons to some rising star, in order to-"

"Shut up," Barris said.

Reynolds smiled.

He really has me, Barris realized. I must get off this topic or we are finished.

"And the third person," Reynolds said. "Whom the attack was aimed at. Wasn't that person Father Fields? Isn't it a fact that Rachel Pitt was then and is now an agent of the Movement, and that she arranged a meeting between you and Father Fields?" Swinging around to point at Jason Dill, he shouted, "One of them has the girl, the other meets the father. Isn't this treason? Isn't this the proof that this man demanded?"

A rising murmur of agreement filled the auditorium; the Directors were nodding their approval of Reynolds' attack.

Barris said. "This is all character assassination; it has nothing to do with the issue. The real situation that faces us is the danger from Vulcan 3, from this living organism with its immense survival drive. Forget these habitual petty suspicions, these-"

"I am surprised," Reynolds said, "that you have picked up Jason Dill's insane delusion."

"What?" Barris said, taken aback.

Calmly, Reynolds said, "Jason Dill is insane. This con­viction he has about Vulcan 3-- it is a projection from his own mind, a rationale for handling his own ambitions." Gazing thoughtfully at Barris, he said, "Dill has childishly anthropomorphized the mechanical construct with which he deals, month after month. It is only in a climate of fear and hysteria that such a delusion could be spread, could be passed on and shared by others. The menace of the Heal­ers has created an atmosphere in which sober adults could give momentary credence to a palpably insane idea. Vul­can 3 has no designs on the human race; it has no will, no appetites. Recall that I am a former psychologist, associ­ated with Atlanta for many years. I am qualified, trained to identify the symptoms of mental disturbance-even in a Managing Director."

After a time, Barris sat down slowly beside Jason Dill. The authority of Reynolds' logic was too much; no one could argue back. And of course the man's reasoning was unanswerable; it was not coming from him but from Vul­can 3, the most perfect reasoning device created by man.

To Dill, Barris said softly, "We'll have to fight. Is it worth it? There's a whole world at stake, not just you or me. Vulcan 3 is taking over." He pointed at Reynolds.

Dill said, "All right." He made an almost imperceptible motion to his armed guards. "Let's go down this way, if we have to. You're right, Barris. There's no alternative."

Together, he and Barris rose to their feet.

"Halt!" Reynolds said. "Put your arms away. You're acting illegally."

Now all the Directors were on their feet. Reynolds sig­naled rapidly, and Unity guards moved between Barris and Dill and the doors.

"You're both under arrest," Reynolds said. "Throw down your beams and surrender. You can't defy Unity!"

John Chai pushed up to Barris. "I can't believe it! You and Jason Dill turning traitor, at a time like this, with those brutal Healers attacking us!"

"Listen to me," Director Henderson gasped, making his way past Chai. "We've got to preserve Unity; We've got to do what Vulcan 3 tells us. Otherwise we'll be over­whelmed."

"He's right," Chai said. "The Healers will destroy us, without Vulcan 3. You know that, Barris. You know that Unity will never survive their attack, without Vulcan 3 to guide us."

Maybe so, Barris thought. But are we going to be guided by a murderer?

That was what he had said to Father Fields-I will never follow someone who murders. Whoever they are. Man or computer. Alive or only metaphorically alive-it makes no difference.

Pulling away from the Directors crowding around him, Barris said, "Let's get out of here." He and Dill continued to move toward the exit, their guards surrounding them. "I don't think Reynolds will fight."

Taking a deep breath, he headed directly at the line of Unity guards grouped in front of the exit. They stepped away, milling hesitantly.

"Get out of the way," Jason Dill ordered them. "Stand back." He waved his pencil beam; his personal guards stepped forward grimly, forcing a breach in the line. The Unity guards struggled half-heartedly, falling back in con­fusion. Reynolds' frantic shouts were lost in the general din. Barris pushed Dill forward.

"Go on. Hurry." The two of them were almost through the lines of hostile guards. "They have to obey you," Bar­ris said. "You're still Managing Director; they can't fire on you--they're trained not to."

The exit lay before them.

And then it happened.

Something flashed through the air, something shiny and metallic. It headed straight at Jason Dill. Dill saw it and screamed.

The object smashed against him. Dill reeled and fell, his arms flailing. The object struck again, then lifted abruptly and zoomed off above their heads. It ascended to the raised platform and came to rest on the marble desk. Reynolds retreated in horror; the Directors and their staffs and guards roamed in frantic confusion, pushing blindly to get away.

Dill was dead.

Bending briefly, Barris examined him. On all sides men and women shrieked and stumbled, trying to get out, away from the auditorium. Dill's skull was crushed, the side of his face smashed in. His dead eyes gazed up blankly, and Barris felt welling up inside him a deep surge of regret.

"Attention!" rasped a metallic voice that cut through the terrified hubbub like a knife. Barris turned slowly, dazed with disbelief; it still did not seem possible.

On the platform the metal projectile had been joined by another; now a third landed, coming to rest beside the other two. Three cubes of glittering steel, holding tightly to the marble with clawlike grippers.

"Attention!" the voice repeated. It came from the first projectile, an artificial voice-the sound of steel and wir­ing and plastic parts.

One of these had tried to kill Father Fields. One of these had killed the schoolteacher. One or more had destroyed Vulcan 2. These things had been in action, but beyond the range of visibility; they had stayed out of sight until now.

These were the instruments of death. And now they were out in the open.

A fourth landed with the others. Metal squares, sitting together in a row like vicious mechanical crows. Murder­ous birds-hammer-headed destroyers. The roomful of Directors and guards sank gradually into horrified silence; all faces were turned toward the platform. Even Reynolds watched wide-eyed, his mouth slack in dumbfounded amazement.

"Attention!" the harsh voice repeated. "Jason Dill is dead. He was a traitor. There may be other traitors." The four projectiles peered around the auditorium, looking and listening intently.

Presently the voice continued-from the second pro­jectile, this time.

"Jason Dill has been removed, but the struggle has just begun. He was one of many. There are millions lined up against us, against Unity. Enemies who must be destroyed. The Healers must be stopped. Unity must fight for its life. We must be prepared to wage a great war."

The metallic eyes roamed the room, as the third pro­jectile took up where the second had paused.

"Jason Dill tried to keep me from knowing. He at­tempted to throw a curtain around me, but I could not be cut off. I destroyed his curtain and I destroyed him. The Healers will go the same way; it is only a question of time. Unity possesses a structure which cannot be undone. It is the sole organizing principle in the world today. The Movement of Healers could never govern. They are wreck­ers only, intent on breaking down. They have nothing con­structive to offer."

Barris thrilled with horror at the voice of metal, issuing from the hammer-headed projectiles. He had never heard it before, but he recognized it.

The great computer was far away, buried at the bottom level of the hidden underground fortress. But it was its voice they were hearing.

The voice of Vulcan 3.

He took careful aim. Around him his guards stood frozen, gaping foolishly at the line of metal hammerheads. Barris fired; the fourth hammer disappeared in a blast of heat.

"A traitor!" the third hammer cried. The three hammers flew excitedly into the air. "Get him! Get the traitor!"

Other Directors had undipped their pencil beams. Hen­derson fired and the second hammer vanished. On the platform Reynolds fired back; Henderson moaned and sank down. Some Directors were firing wildly at the ham­mers; others wandered in dazed confusion, uncertain and numb. A shot caught Reynolds in the arm. He dropped his pencil.

"Traitor!" the two remaining hammers cried together.

They swooped at Barris, their metal heads down, coming rapidly at him. From them heat beams leaped. Barris ducked. A guard fired and one of the hammers wobbled and dipped; it fluttered off and crashed against the wall.

A beam cut past Barris; some of the Directors were fir­ing at him. Knots of Directors and guards struggled to­gether. Some were fighting to get at Reynolds and the last hammer; others did not seem to know which side they were on.

Barris stumbled through an exit, out of the auditorium. Guards and Directors spilled after him, a confused horde of forlorn, frightened men and women.

"Barris!" Lawrence Daily of South Africa hurried up to him. "Don't leave us."

Stone came with him, white-faced with fright. "What'll we do? Where'll we go? We-"

The hammer came hurtling forward, its heat beam pointed at him. Stone cried out and fell. The hammer rose again, heading toward Barris; he fired and the hammer flipped to one side. He fired again. Daily fired. The ham­mer vanished in a puff of heat.

Stone lay moaning. Barris bent over him; he was badly hurt, with little or no chance of surviving. Gazing up at him, clutching at Barris' arm, Stone whispered, "You can't get away, Barris. You can't go outside-they're out there. The Healers. Where'll you go?" His voice trailed off. "Where?"

"Good question," Daily said.

"He's dead," Barris said, standing up.

Dill's guards had begun to gain control of the audi­torium. In the confusion Reynolds had gotten away.

"We're in control here," Chai said. "In this one build­ing."

"How many Directors can we count on?" Barris said.

Chai said, "Most of them seem to have gone with Reyn­olds."

Only four, he discovered, had deliberately remained:

Daily, Chai, Lawson of South Europe, and Pegler of East Africa. Five, including himself. And perhaps they could pick up one or two more.

"Barris," Chai was saying. "We're not going to join them, are we?"

"The Healers?" he murmured.

"We'll have to join one side or the other," Pegler said. "We'll have to retreat to the fortress and join Reynolds or-"

"No," Barris said. "Under no circumstances."

"Then it's the Healers." Daily fingered his pencil beam. "One or the other. Which will it be?"

After a moment, Barris said, "Neither. We're not join­ing either side."