He was late for his date with Ciel, of course. He glanced at his chrono
as he entered the Stardust Cafe by the front door and saw that he was
twenty minutes late. However, this time he was certain Ciel wouldn't
complain too vigorously.
Again the askarins were playing, and once more the green-skinned
Venusian girls were doing their writhing, spasmodic, aphrodisiacal
dance. It was remarkable how they could achieve such an effect of utter
abandon and yet keep their faces blank and frozen. He looked around the
rest of the room swiftly. Not so crowded tonight, and people were
generally quieter. There were no oversexed spacemen clawing after the
dancers on the floor.
Ciel was again in a rear booth, in the same corner of the room she had
chosen before. She had spotted him now; she was looking his way. She
lifted a white-gloved hand and waved.
He smiled and headed for her. He forced his smile, and made himself
forget the prickling of his wrists and the feeling of bristling fur
along his spine. And he held his smile all the way across the room.
_Why, hello, darling, fancy seeing you here; no, nothing's wrong,
nothing at all, why on earth would you think anything was wrong?_
"Hi, baby," was all he actually said.
"I'm--I'm glad you're here, Dick." Her eyes didn't show much. They roved
over his face a little too much perhaps, but otherwise they seemed
simply as large and dark as ever. He noticed that the meth glass in
front of her was empty.
Grinning, he sat down. "This is a big moment. This is almost too much
for me to handle. Maybe that's what I need--a good slug of meth."
"No."
"No?"
"Let's not waste time. Let's go out on the terrace. I want you to kiss
me."
"Best offer I've had all evening." He rose again. "Where's the terrace?"
"Through that door. There's a dining room there that's closed at night.
You go through the dining room and out to the terrace."
"Okay."
He took her arm and led her in and out of tables, across the room. They
moved swiftly through the quiet, nearly dark dining room, and after that
through a pair of window-doors. They were on the terrace then, a
flagstoned space with a low wall. It overlooked the scattered lights of
World City's topside area and some distance beyond they could see the
river, a blue-silver ribbon in the moonlight.
They stopped at the wall. She turned toward him. He looked down at her,
at her pale face and deep, dark eyes. He smelled her perfume and he felt
her live warmth near him and coming nearer. He saw her eyes close, her
lips part just slightly, and each lip glistening, faintly moist....
He was wondering when it would happen. He was wondering when he would be
struck.
As he wondered that he suddenly discovered he wasn't on the terrace any
more.
* * * * *
He looked about him in some surprise. It was nearly dark. He was in a
room; he could sense the walls about him. He heard a curious,
high-pitched metallic voice--and recognized it.
"_Pell? Are you awake now?_"
It had happened then, just as he had expected. Someone had thrown a
freezer on him there in the patio, and during his complete
unconsciousness he'd been taken here, wherever this was. He sighed. The
least they could have done would have been to let him finish kissing
Ciel.
As calmly as he could he said to the four blank walls, "I'm awake."
Soft glowlights came on gradually and he saw that the room about him was
fairly small--twenty by fifteen, roughly--and very plain. It contained a
bed and a few odd pieces of furniture, all apparently of good quality.
There was a door in one wall. He tried the door. Locked. He went back to
the middle of the room.
"Chief," he said to the blank walls, "what's this all about? Is it some
kind of a joke?"
The metallic voice chuckled. It belonged to Eustace J. Larkin, Chief,
Central Investigation Bureau, and even filtered like this it was
somewhat prim and precise. "No, Dick, it's not a joke, I'm afraid. I'm
surprised you haven't guessed what it's all about. Or at least had one
of your brilliant hunches." There was sarcasm in this last.
"Where's Ciel?" Pell asked.
"Right here with me. In the next room. Here--listen."
Ciel's voice said, "Don't worry, darling, we'll explain everything. And
when it's all over it will be for the best. You'll see that it will."
"All right, everybody," said Pell, half-belligerently, "what's the big
idea?"
"Big idea is right," Larkin's voice came back. "The biggest that ever
hit the human race. And as Ciel says we'll explain it all in a moment.
But first I'd like your word that you won't be foolish and make any kind
of a struggle. If you'll promise that you can come in the other room
here and we can all talk face to face."
Pell frowned. "I don't know--I'm not so sure I can honestly promise
that."
"Suit yourself, then. A few minutes from now it won't make any
difference anyway."
"Will you stop being so damned mysterious and tell me what it's all
about?"
Larkin's voice laughed. "Very well. I haven't had much chance to tell
about it, frankly. And I think you'll agree we've rather neatly kept our
parts under cover--until you got dangerously close to the answer,
anyway."
"Until I got close?"
"Certainly. Doc Wilcox's office on the moon was perhaps our one weakness
in the whole set-up. How you managed to stumble on to that, I'll never
know--your luck must have been with you."
"It wasn't luck, Larkin, it was a hunch."
"Still believe in hunches, eh? Well, we won't argue the point. At any
rate you wouldn't have found the enzyme any place else but there."
"Oh, so the enzyme does have something to do with it."
"Everything. Here--suppose I let Doctor Nebel explain it to you. He
developed it, after all."
Pell lifted his eyebrows in surprise and Dr. Walter Nebel's sibilant
voice came through the hidden speakers. "I think you should know how it
works, Mr. Pell. You may know that a certain part of the brain called
Rossi's area is, to put it figuratively, the hypnotic center. The
cut-off of the adrenal cortex, so to speak. In ordinary hypnosis the
function of that area is dulled by overexercising the motor senses. By
that method the intensity of hypnosis is widely variable and never
really one hundred per cent effective. My compound, however, brings
about complete and absolute cut-off. Any post-hypnotic suggestion given
under those circumstances takes permanently and deeply. It can only be
removed by further post-hypnosis under the same treatment, negating the
original command."
Pell stared at the blank walls. "Go on," he said in a soft, tense voice.
"What's the rest?"
Larkin spoke again. "Suppose we briefly examine a little history as a
kind of introduction to this matter. The human race, since the beginning
of recorded time, has failed to achieve real peace and stability, right?
Every time there has been a chance for cooperative effort--for total
agreement--certain selfish interests have spoiled it. There have been
times, however, when certain groups--states or combinations of
states--came close to permanent peace and prosperity. The Napoleonic era
was one. Hitler two hundred years ago almost brought it about. The only
reason they failed was that they didn't achieve their goal--_complete_
conquest."
_Did Pell hear correctly? Was there a faint simmering of madness in that
metallic voice now?_ In the words there was madness, surely....
* * * * *
It went on: "The fact is, Pell, people simply don't know what's good for
them. Look at the blunderers and even downright crooks who are elected
to World Government. Never the best brains, never the best talents. When
a really able man gets into a position of leadership it's an accident--a
fluke."
"I still don't see what all this has got to do with it," said Pell.
There was a shrug in the metallic voice. "For once the ablest men are
going to take over. There are a number of us. You know already about
myself and Doctor Nebel. Rysland will be with us, too, as soon as we can
get him conditioned."
"By conditioned, you mean this enzyme of yours?"
"Exactly. We started out in a small way, using force or trickery where
necessary, and managed to condition a number of doctors and nurses.
Conditioning simply means injecting Nebel's compound and then giving the
post-hypnotic command to be unquestioningly loyal to the Supremists. We
created the Supremists, of course. In order for us to take over it will
be necessary to have another war, and to conquer Venus. That can be done
if Earth strikes quickly. Within the next few days I think there'll be
enough Supremist influence to get this war started."
Pell stared back, open-mouthed. To hear it coldly and calmly like this
was shock, cold-water shock. "Let me get this straight now. Your group
made Supremists of doctors and nurses and they in turn made new members
by installing this hypnosis stuff whenever anybody came for a hypodermic
injection of any kind, is that it?"
"That's it."
"But how does this stuff work? Does it knock you out, or what?"
"You'll be finding that out at first hand very shortly."
Pell stiffened, made fists and unconsciously lifted them and looked
around him, warily.
Larkin laughed. "It won't do you much good to put up a fight. I'm
sending a couple of my assistants in there. They specialize in people
who want to make a struggle. And there's no reason to feel unhappy about
it, Pell: once you're conditioned you'll simply be unable to do anything
against the Supremist cause. You'll be happier, in fact, having such a
cause. Ask your wife if that isn't so."
Pell trembled with anger. "How did you get to her? How did you make her
do what she did?"
"You mean luring you into our little trap on the terrace, so to speak?
You mustn't blame Ciel for that. She couldn't help herself; she had to
obey, after all. You see she was conditioned in Augea on the moon by Dr.
Wilcox, one of our very loyal men. He simply dropped in when you were at
the Post Office, pretended that Ciel needed a routine injection and she,
not at all suspicious, allowed him to do it. He gave her the command of
loyalty, and also cautioned her not to say anything about it. So you
see, Ciel's been one of us for several days. It was just a little
precaution of mine, in case you should become troublesome. I had to
assign somebody to the investigation, of course, because Rysland and his
crowd would have been too suspicious if I hadn't complied with their
request."
"You're stark crazy, Larkin! You ought to be in a mental hospital!"
"You'll be over that idea in a minute or so. Meanwhile, we're wasting
time. I'm sending the boys in now. You'll make it easier for yourself if
you submit without giving them any trouble."
The door opened, then. Pell caught a quick glimpse of the other room and
saw that it was a tastefully furnished living room. He recognized it,
and knew where he was. This was a country house of Larkin's, topside,
not far from the outskirts of World City. Whoever turned the freezer on
him must have set the control at high intensity because it would take at
least an hour to get to this place from the Stardust Cafe and he had
been unconscious at least that long.
He had the momentary impulse to rush that partly opened door--and then
the boys, as Larkin had called them, appeared.
* * * * *
They were specialists, little doubt of that. They regarded Pell with
flat, almost disinterested looks as the door closed behind them. One
held a hypodermic needle. He was the shorter of the two, but he had
shoulders like ox-yokes. His face had been kneaded in the prize ring,
and his bare arms were muscular and hairy but the top of his head was
bald. The other had red hair, close-cropped. He was big and
well-proportioned; Pell might have taken him for a professional football
player.
Red did the talking. He spoke quietly, almost pleasantly. "Gonna
cooperate?" he asked Pell.
Pell said, "You touch me, brother, and I'll make your face look like
Baldy's."
Red glanced at Baldy and seemed to sigh. Abruptly he whirled, jumped at
Pell and brought a sizzling right hand punch through the air. Pell
ducked it. He saw Baldy move in as he did so, and a painful blow struck
the back of his neck. His teeth rattled when it struck. Something caught
him under the chin, straightened him. When he was straight a pile driver
struck him in the midsection.
It was all over within a matter of seconds. Under different
circumstances Pell might have found time to admire their technique.
As it was, he was now face down on the floor and Red was straddling him,
holding him there. The pain in his stomach made him gasp. His face and
the back of his neck ached terribly.
Red had his arm in the small of his back. Pell tried to struggle.
"I can break the arm if you move," said Red cheerfully.
And then Pell felt the bite of the needle just below his shoulder.
A misty feeling came. He felt as though he were in a red whirlpool,
spinning, going down--down.... He fought to rise. He could still hear.
He could hear footsteps and the slam of the door when somebody else came
into the room. And then he seemed abruptly to be detached from his own
body and floating in a huge gray void....
Words hammered at his brain. Larkin's voice, at his ear now and no
longer metallic. "_You will be loyal to the Supremist cause. You will do
nothing against the Supremist doctrine. You will believe that Earthmen
are meant to rule the Universe--_"
He felt an overpowering impulse to nod, to agree, to believe that it was
right to do this. He fought this impulse, straining his mind and his
very being until it seemed that something might burst with the effort.
"_You will work for the cause; you will give your life for it if
necessary._"
Yes, perhaps it was better to succumb. The words were too strong. He
couldn't fight them. Larkin was right, Earthmen were supreme, and they
were destined to rule....
Somewhere in the depths a tiny spot of resistance still glowed. He tried
desperately to evoke it. It seemed then that it became brighter. He
_could_ resist--he _would_.... He kept thinking over and over again:
"_No, no, no!_"
Larkin's voice said, "Carry him in the other room. He'll come to in a
moment."
* * * * *
He came to slowly, and he saw that he was lying on a couch and that
several people were gathered around him smiling down at him. Something
detached itself from the group, knelt by his side. He blinked. It was
Ciel. Her golden hair shone and her dark eyes searched his face and she
was smiling. "Hello, darling," she said.
"Hello, Ciel." He kissed her, and then sat up on the couch and looked
around.
Larkin and Dr. Nebel were standing together, and Red and Baldy were a
few steps behind them, still looking indifferent.
"Now you're one of us, Dick," said Larkin, flashing his professional
smile, dimples and everything. Pell rose. Nebel held his hands behind
his back and beamed, blinking his heavy reptilian eyelids and Larkin
stepped forward and held out his hand.
"Yes," said Pell, shaking the hand, "I guess we're all working for the
same thing now. What do you want me to do?"
Larkin laughed. "Nothing right away. We'll give you instructions when
the time comes. I think you might as well go home with Ciel now; I have
a copter and a chauffeur outside that'll take you to the station near
your apartment."
"Okay, Chief, whatever you say." He smiled and took Ciel's arm. He
started toward the door. Then he stopped, patted his chest and said,
"Oh--my freezer. I guess the boys took it away...."
Larkin turned to Baldy. "Give him his weapon."
Baldy took the freezer from his pocket and casually tossed it to Pell.
A sudden change came over Pell, then. His smile disappeared. He stepped
quickly away from Ciel, whirled and faced all of them. He pointed the
freezer. "All right, everybody stay perfectly still--you, too, Ciel.
This is where we break up your little Supremist nightmare."
Larkin stared in utter amazement. Nebel's turtle lids opened wide. Ciel
brought her hand to her throat.
Red's hand blurred suddenly, going for his own weapon. Pell squeezed the
trigger, the violet sparks danced for an instant, and then Red stood
frozen with his hand almost to his chest.
"I'd advise nobody else to try that," said Pell, and then in an ironical
tone to Larkin: "C.I.B. agents are trained to be pretty quick with a
freezer, right, Chief?"
Larkin seemed to find his voice now. "But--how--what happened? You were
injected. How can you...."
"I just took a little precaution, that's all," said Pell. "There'll be
plenty of time to explain it all later. You'll probably hear the whole
thing in court, Larkin, when I testify at your trial for treason.
Meanwhile, all of you just stay nice and calm while I use the viewer."
He stepped to the viewer and dialed with his free hand. The plate
glowed, shimmered and a moment later the pale, grave face of Theodor
Rysland came into view. His eyebrows rose as he saw the weapon in Pell's
hand and glimpsed the people beyond Pell. "Hello--what's this all
about?"
"Haven't time to explain fully now," said Pell, "but I want you to get
to Larkin's country house as soon as you can. I'll call agent Kronski in
a moment and have him bring some others, and together we'll take Larkin
and Nebel into custody. They're behind the Supremist movement--a
deliberate attempt to take over the government. They did it with a drug;
that's how Supremist's are made."
"What's this? A drug?"
"Think about it later," said Pell. "Just grab the facts right now. The
drug makes a person subject to post-hypnotic commands--that's why your
Supremists are blindly, unthinkingly loyal. However, the command can be
erased by a second treatment. That'll be tough and take a lot of
ferreting out, but it won't be impossible." He glanced at Ciel, and saw
that she was staring at him with horror--with enmity. It sickened him,
but he steadied himself with the realization that Ciel would be one of
the first to be re-treated.
* * * * *
Several minutes later he had completed his calls. Rysland, Kronski and
the others were on the way. He kept the freezer pointed, and watched his
captives carefully. Ciel had gone over to the couch and was sitting
there, her face in her hands, weeping softly.
"I don't know how you did it," said Larkin. "I don't understand it. The
injection should have worked. It always did before."
"Well, it almost worked," said Pell. "I must admit I had quite a time
fighting off your commands. But, you see, I knew you'd gotten to Ciel
somehow when she called me up to make the date this evening. She spoke
of going out to the terrace at the Stardust Cafe. It was a little odd
that she should speak of the terrace like that, out of a clear sky--and
I wondered why it should be on her mind. Then it struck me that neither
of us had ever noticed a terrace there, and Ciel must have some special
reason for knowing about it.
"She did, of course--she'd been instructed to get me out there where
your boys could slap a freezer on me. So I started guessing with that
hunch to work on. Everything more or less fell into place after that. It
was pretty certain that they'd try to make a loyal Supremist out of me,
too, and that's when I took that little precaution I mentioned to you."
"What precaution?"
Pell smiled. "I had Marco the mentalist hypnotize me and give me a
rather special post-hypnotic command. He ordered me not to believe any
_subsequent_ post-hypnotic commands. That's why your conditioning didn't
work on me."
Larkin could find no words; he just stared.
"Think about it, Larkin," said Pell. "Think hard. Maybe you'd convinced
yourself you were doing good, but your purpose was still tyranny. And
like any tyranny it contained the means of its own destruction. It
always works out that way, Larkin--maybe it's a law, or something."
It had been a long speech for Pell, practically an oration. He was,
after all, a cop, not a philosopher. Just a guy trying to get along.
Just an ordinary citizen whose name was legion, looking at his wife now
and waiting with what patience he could find for the time when she would
be cleared of the poisonous doctrine that any one race or group or even
species was supreme.
He was thinking, too, that the trial would keep him busy as the very
devil and that they _still_ wouldn't get to that vacation and second
honeymoon for a long time....
That, considering everything, was not too much to put up with.