Dayworld Breakup

by Philip José Farmer

  “…too lenient and permissive. The government policy of using a long leash on the citizens and only pulling back when the principles and procedures of the New Era are in grave danger must be changed. The people must be made to realize that a stricter control of their actions is for the general good.

  “…surprised. Even I, a field marshal for twenty subyears, did not suspect that the world population was two billion, not the ten billion figure which is to be found in all educational tapes and in subannual government reports. I accept, of course, the wisdom of the World Councillors in keeping these figures from everybody except themselves and, of course, the small but elite body of government statisticians. This manipulation of data had been for the general good, obviously done to forestall any demand for the breakup of the New Era and return to day-by-day living.”

  “But now the higher officials have been informed that Caird-Duncan’s accusation of lying by the government re this matter is true. The higher officials have obviously been told the truth so that they will not feel betrayed when the truth finally comes out. It will eventually come out because there is a growing tide of demand among the populace that Caird-Duncan’s accusation be validated or invalidated. I myself do not know how the data manipulation can be continued if a body of disinterested scientists and common citizens are allowed to track down the data re population size. This seems inevitable.”

  “…as you know, the citizens of every day in the aforesaid apartment have been questioned. All were revealed to be members of the subversive organization except the couple in Friday. It was evident during interrogation of the other days residing in this apartment that they had an ability to lie under TM. This ability was much like that of Caird-Duncan in kind though not in degree. Certain measures the exact description of which is not necessary forced the suspects to confess that they had been injected with a newly invented anti-TM. (See Report No. OD-HS 7392-C for the details. Erasure ordered.) This revelation has greatly concerned the organic departments of all days. In fact, it has greatly troubled the department. It makes investigation and interrogation much less certain and conclusive. It also brings up the question of how widespread the dissemination of the anti-TM has been, or, as it is now officially initialed, A-TM.”

  “…do not know if the Los Angeles and Manhattan subversives are part of a worldwide organization, loosely allied to others, or completely independent. This question is being intensely investigated on a global and everyday basis.”

  20

  Duncan sat up, his mind-fuzziness gone, his body throbbing with readiness for action. He started to reach toward his holstered gun but stopped. He would be shot before he could touch the weapon.

  Snick’s voice said, “What happened?” She sounded as if desert dust had been poured into her throat. His own mouth was also very dry, and he had a mild headache.

  The same voice said, “Your guns were removed while you were unconscious. You don’t need them, anyway.”

  Squinting into the dazzle, Duncan turned his head to his left and to the right. He counted five beams, and there might be other people in the darkness.

  A man moved into the circle of light. He was of medium height, not over six feet, very broad-shouldered, and he was in an organic officer’s uniform. The gold-colored falcon on his left chest shone dully. Duncan, recognizing the broad, high-cheekboned face and the prominent epicanthic folds, said, “Colonel Kieth Alan Simmons!”

  “The same,” Simmons said. “I’m your friend. We’re taking you elsewhere. Keep quiet. Obey orders. Here are your guns. The powerpaks have been removed.”

  Duncan was handed his weapon by a woman who stepped out into the arena of light. He saw Snick, close by, take her gun from a man.

  “Just how did you catch up with us?” Duncan said.

  “You wouldn’t have gotten this far if I hadn’t been bypassing the monitor screens when you two left your apartment,” Simmons said. “But no talking now. Explanations later.”

  Snick looked at Duncan. He shrugged, indicating that, for now, they could only do what the colonel demanded. Not that he needed to tell her that.

  They left the apartment a minute later. Duncan had expected that they would use the door to the corridor. But they went through the suite to the hangar room. The hatchway cover was fully open, and an airboat was hovering a few inches from the floor of the hangar. It was a twelve-seater, so large that its sides must have scraped the edges of the opening as it descended into the hangar. Duncan and Snick got into it. Four ganks were seated behind them, and Simmons and two others, including the pilot, were in front of them.

  The craft rose slowly until it cleared the hatchway. It poised near the edge while two ganks got out and closed the cover. The rooftop was jammed with refugees and bright here and there with large emergency lamps. There were many ganks there keeping order. The nearest looked at the boat, but they would consider it just part of the exodus.

  The boat lifted and turned toward the north.

  Nobody spoke during the entire trip. The pilot took the boat at an altitude of a thousand feet northward through the heavy traffic. When the craft had left the L.A. basin behind, it ascended to two thousand feet. The pilot turned on the automatic then, and the boat proceeded according to the Valley traffic control. It picked up velocity, going four hundred miles an hour, the limit of its Gernhardt motors. Before it got to Santa Barbara, it began lowering. The pilot cut off automatic and steered downward toward the heavy woods east of the Santa Barbara Tower area. He went over several hills at almost treetop level, then dropped the boat into a small valley. It alighted before a very large log cabin at the base of the hill. The cabin and the surrounding area were well lit. Two barns and a corral were near the cabin. A wide brook ran near the front door.

  Still silent, all entered the cabin. The front room was large and had a stone fireplace with a blazing wood fire at one end. Two of the walls were TV screens, blank at the moment. A stairway ran up to an open second floor. The couple who greeted them were in their seventies and were, it became obvious, servants. They brought in drinks and sandwiches while Duncan and Snick were in the bathroom. When Duncan came out, he was told to sit on a sofa near the fireplace. Snick joined him. Both asked for iced tea and were served. Having downed one glass quickly, each asked for another and were given it.

  Standing, a glass of bourbon in his hand, Colonel Simmons said, “Now, we may talk. But I’ll do most of it.”

  Three of the ganks had gone elsewhere, but the others sat in chairs not very far away. Having been told by the colonel that they should go into their stoners, the two elderly servants had also left.

  Simmons said, “You two may be the wiliest people this Earth has ever known. Certainly, you’re among the slipperiest and, God knows, the most personally destructive. But I figured out you just might come back to the very place nobody would think you’d have the chutzpah to go to. Who else would have the balls to do that? So, I set up mass-capacitance battery-operated detectors there, disguised them as furniture items. When you two did come here after that incredible feat…”

  He paused, smiled, and broke into loud laughter. When he had recovered from the fit, he said, “The detectors transmitted a radio alarm. They also released gas from containers I’d set up, disguised, too. The rest you know.”

  “What I don’t know is a lot,” Duncan said. “Just what are you up to? Why are we here? Something happened to force your hand, didn’t it?”

  “You two, especially you, Duncan, are to play a larger role in coming events, events we’ll cause, than you ever envisioned. You’re through running away. That’s all behind you. I’ve decided it’s time to take the initiative. Not by attacking and destroying pieces of equipment and inconveniencing people, though you did do far more than that. I’ll start by telling you that I’ve been the real chief of all the undergrounds in L.A. and elsewhere, too. Diszno outranked me in the organics department, but I was his OMC commander. When Diszno was killed, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I’d be trac
ked down. So, I decided to take action. You’re my main weapon.”

  He glanced at the wallscreen. “It’s 1:02 a.m. The devil is having a ball in L.A. just now. But we’ll take advantage of all that confusion. Now…would you two like to get some sleep?”

  Duncan said, “Can’t we at least get some idea of what you have in mind for us?”

  Simmons was smiling, but his voice was a trifle harder.

  “You two are my honored guests. But I’d like you to do what I say. You’ll see the reason for that later. My people and I have a lot of work to do, and I’d feel better if you were taking it easy just now, recovering from your ordeal, let’s say. This is an R & R place for high organic officials. But there won’t be anybody coming here for a week, at least. All vacations have been cancelled. The other days will get that message, you can bet on that. You’ll have to trust me.”

  “We can’t do anything else anyway,” Duncan said. “But…how about the servants for the rest of the week? How about our guards?”

  “Quit worrying about details. They’re all taken care of.”

  Simmons beckoned with his finger, and three ganks stood up and approached Duncan and Snick.

  “Court, Chang and Ashwin,” Simmons said. “They’re your humble servants. Anything you want, ask them for it. Ashwin will also answer any questions, that is, except those which might threaten security. You understand that, of course?”

  He left the cabin with three other ganks. Ashwin, a rather thin dark man with a toothbrush moustache and an overdeveloped jaw and chin, led them to a room on the second story. This had twin beds and an adjoining bathroom. Before bidding them goodnight, Ashwin produced two proton guns and several powerpaks from an over-the-shoulder bag.

  “The chief said you were to have these. One, to show his trust in you. Two, in case there should be a raid. That’s extremely improbable, but you never know.”

  He bowed and was out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  “The room’s probably monitored,” Snick said.

  “It makes no difference. Say whatever you want to say.”

  “I don’t feel like talking, though I’ve got a lot of questions troubling me,” she said. “It can wait until tomorrow…when we get out of bed.”

  Ten minutes later, they were asleep.

  Sunday’s sky was sunny. Duncan, awake shortly before noon, went downstairs. Snick was already eating breakfast, or lunch, at a table with Ashwin and two women. The latter, who had been among the ganks that picked him up the day before, were introduced as Rani and Jiang. Duncan did not talk while eating. Snick, as usual, seldom said anything. The others, however, talked animatedly about a new miniseries.

  While sipping his coffee, Duncan said, “I’d like to get the setup here. And I’d like to see the news and get any information you might have which hasn’t been released to the public.”

  “The chief said you were to be given all the data you want except for certain security items,” Ashwin said.

  Through an open window came the snorting and whinnying of horses and some male and female voices. A crow cawed from somewhere. The beautiful song of a cardinal came from nearby. A mental image of a house in a city flashed through his mind. The house had a grassy front yard and a garden in the backyard. Birds of all kinds, robins, cardinals, bluejays, finches, hummingbirds, were in the yards. A hawk soared far away looking for pigeons or rabbits. The sky and the sun were real, not the sterile world of the tower with its artificial sky and sun and where the only birds were caged in the plazas and the only vegetation were the dwarf trees in the plazas.

  That house? Where was it?

  “There’s not much to tell about this place,” Ashwin said. “It’s a horse ranch for high organic officials’ rest and recreation. The servants and handlers aren’t going to be curious about us being here Sunday. Now and then, the organic high officials break day for reasons we don’t have to give the help. They know there’s an emergency right now, so they accept the fact we’re not Sunday people.”

  He rose, saying, “We’ll watch the news now. Not just that restricted to the area. News from all over the globe and from various days.”

  The local news was chiefly concerned with the blackout of Los Angeles State. The newshead stated that it was believed that the archcriminals, Duncan and Snick, were responsible. Details of the blackout would be available in the near future. The general of L.A.’s Saturday organics would undoubtedly be replaced, and an investigation into the competency of L.A.’s Saturday governor would be initiated.

  The rest of the news was about local events. Every ten minutes, though, a separate screen section displayed the images and biodata of the two criminals. The reward for their capture was now 120,000 credits.

  Ashwin then activated showings of various tapes from different days and different parts of the world. There had been demonstrations in a number of cities and a dozen riots in cities in the ministering organs of China, South Africa, West Europe, Russia, Brazil, and Australia.

  “Simmons must have quite an organization,” Duncan said. “It would take a lot of pull and personpower to get those tapes.”

  “You’re perceptive enough,” was all Ashwin would say. But he looked smug.

  Duncan was pleased. His messages were causing the storm he had hoped they would. How could that be kept raging? How to prevent the agitation from just dying out?

  There was only one answer. Not he but the people would have to do that. One man could not destroy the world or save it. The people would have to keep up the fury until it burned away the rotten foundations.

  The weakness in this semirevolt—that was all it was, so far, a half-assed revolution—was that it lacked a monolithic organization powerful enough to come out into the open. It also needed a single-minded leader who could coordinate the organization. Perhaps, that impulse that sometimes seized the mass-unconscious might bring victory. The great body of the people had, now and then in pre-New Era days, been possessed by a demon that made them act in unison. Driven to rage like a many-headed but one-souled entity, they had unpedestaled tyrants and ripped governments to rags.

  That afternoon, accompanied by Ashwin and another man, he and Snick took a long walk through the forest. Afterwards, Ashwin offered them horses to ride. Though neither had ever been on a horse and probably would never again, they mounted the gentle beasts and rode for an hour up and down a long winding path through the woods on the other side of the ranch. Ashwin gave them instructions while they rode.

  Shortly after they had finished dinner, Ashwin came down the big wooden staircase. He stopped before their table and said, “The colonel will see you now. Follow me, please.”

  He led them back up the steps and down the hall to a door before which stood two armed ganks. Ashwin knocked on the door; Simmons’s deep voice told them to enter. He was seated behind a large mahogany desk on which were baskets full of small differently colored spheres—“tapes”—and piles of printouts. He rose as they came in. His smile radiated glee and confidence, an immense satisfaction with something. His prominent deeply cleft chin seemed to be projecting light as if it were a transmitting antenna.

  “I’ve good news for you two,” he said. “I hope you’ll think it’s good news. If you agree to go, we leave tonight for Zurich.”

  21

  “Zurich?” Duncan said. “The world capital?”

  “Yes,” Simmons replied, smiling, his eyes fixed on Duncan’s face as if he were trying hard to drill through to his thoughts. “State of Switzerland. Where the World Council has just issued its list of nominees to replace Ananda.”

  “I didn’t see that on the news,” Snick said.

  “It hasn’t been announced yet.”

  Duncan was no longer surprised about Simmons’s access to non public information. He said, “Why? I mean, why do you want us to go there?”

  “Sit down, please.”

  Simmons leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head. “You’ve eluded the organics and gotten aw
ay with your attacks because of your audacity,” he said. “L’audace, toujours l’audace. You know what that means?”

  Duncan and Snick shook their heads.

  “Audacity, always audacity. It’s a great phrase from a great language, French, unfortunately now as dead as Latin. But the Gallic spirit lives on. Audacity, always audacity. You two embody that spirit. But you’ve been running too long, and it’s time that you…we…made an attack, a strategic move, that will have a greater effect than even your blacking-out of Los Angeles twice in a row, by God! After all, what you did there has only nuisance value, though I think the L.A. citizens regard it as much more than just a nuisance.”

  He put his hands on the desk and leaned forward.

  “Here’s what I propose.”

  Duncan and Snick listened without interrupting until Simmons was finished, though they had to restrain themselves.

  “There,” Simmons said. “What do you think of that? L’audace, right?”

  “Or suicidal recklessness,” Snick said. “Don’t get me wrong. I agree with you in principle. But it’s a make-or-break move. Does it really have any chance to work out successfully?”

  “We can’t know, of course, until we’ve done it,” Simmons said. “What do you think, Duncan?”

  “If the whole business is set up the way you’ve laid it out for us,” Duncan said, “it could end up a great victory for us. Could, I say. It’s disadvantage…well, I hate to deliver myself… Snick, too…into the hands of the enemy. There are so many things that could go wrong. On the other hand, you can say that about any venture.”