The Salem flue exploded at six that morning. The great fire chimney
shattered into ten thousand parts and flung itself into the earth and
into the sky and into the houses of the sleeping people. There was fire
and sound, more fire than autumn made burning in the hills.
William Lantry was five miles away at the time of the explosion. He
saw the town ignited by the great spreading cremation of it. And he
shook his head and laughed a little bit and clapped his hands smartly
together.
Relatively simple. You walked around killing people who didn't believe
in murder, had only heard of it indirectly as some dim gone custom
of the old barbarian races. You walked into the control room of the
Incinerator and said, "How do you work this Incinerator?" and the
control man told you, because everybody told the truth in this world
of the future, nobody lied, there was no reason to lie, there was no
danger to lie _against_. There was only one criminal in the world, and
nobody knew HE existed yet.
Oh, it was an incredibly beautiful set-up. The Control Man had told
him just how the Incinerator worked, what pressure gauges controlled
the flood of fire gasses going up the flue, what levers were adjusted
or readjusted. He and Lantry had had quite a talk. It was an easy free
world. People trusted people. A moment later Lantry had shoved a knife
in the Control Man also and set the pressure gauges for an overload
to occur half an hour later, and walked out of the Incinerator halls,
whistling.
Now even the sky was palled with the vast black cloud of the explosion.
"This is only the first," said Lantry, looking at the sky. "I'll tear
all the others down before they even suspect there's an unethical man
loose in their society. They can't account for a variable like me.
I'm beyond their understanding. I'm incomprehensible, impossible,
therefore I do not exist. My God, I can kill hundreds of thousands of
them before they even realize murder is out in the world again. I can
make it look like an accident each time. Why, the idea is so huge, it's
unbelievable!"
The fire burned the town. He sat under a tree for a long time, until
morning. Then, he found a cave in the hills, and went in, to sleep.
* * * * *
He awoke at sunset with a sudden dream of fire. He saw himself pushed
into the flue, cut into sections by flame, burned away to nothing. He
sat up on the cave floor, laughing at himself. He had an idea.
He walked down into the town and stepped into an audio booth. He dialed
OPERATOR. "Give me the Police Department," he said.
"I beg your pardon?" said the operator.
He tried again. "The Law Force," he said.
"I will connect you with the Peace Control," she said, at last.
A little fear began ticking inside him like a tiny watch. Suppose the
operator recognized the term Police Department as an anachronism, took
his audio number, and sent someone out to investigate? No, she wouldn't
do that. Why should she suspect? Paranoids were non-existent in this
civilization.
"Yes, the Peace Control," he said.