He looked patient, smilingly patient. "It's rather obvious, you know.
You wouldn't have acted as you did purely on your own impulses. I know
that, because I cybed for your master file after I saw the report
of arrest. Up until two days ago, your actions have always been
satisfactorily conformal. A man doesn't change overnight like that
without some sort of external influence."
"But there wasn't any," I protested. "I mean, nobody told me to do
anything. Nobody real."
He chuckled. "Come now, you don't expect me to believe that, do you?
After all, I deal with cases like this quite often. You're not the
only one who has tried to upset the efficiency of the State. There's
a pattern in these things, my friend. Almost invariably we find that
a deliberate influence has gone to work on our infractor. There's a
dangerous, organized underground movement that spends its time bringing
these things about. One of its members unquestionably contacted you,
suggested that you take the steps you have taken. Now, then, who was
it?"
"Nobody." I looked blank because I felt blank.
The Chief sighed. "You've changed more than I thought. Probably you're
emotionally angry with the State now, after that little interview
with the Deacons. That's understandable. But you'll have to come back
to your senses. Let's put it this way, old man. _If I don't get this
information from you right now, the Deacons will._"
"Listen," I said, "what I'm telling you is the truth. There was nobody
who told me to do anything. There was--well, there was a kind of voice
that used to come into my dreams. A woman's voice. It suggested, in my
dreams, that I go ahead and try to get my name changed. That's all."