Machines in the Head
Page 18
‘Well, you can keep your mouth shut, at any rate.’ I was not at all sure that this was meant to be complimentary but hoped for the best since he now poured two small glasses of brandy from a decanter which stood on a gilded table and pushed one towards me, saying, ‘Let’s drink to our better acquaintance.’ Directly afterwards, he leaned forward and added in a low tone no one else could have heard, ‘And may the association prove profitable to us both.’
Wondering what on earth that could mean, I regarded him surreptitiously over my glass as I drank his health but learned nothing from his impassive countenance.
‘I need not keep you gentlemen any longer,’ he told the officers, who were still standing around in a stiff circle. As they filed out, he detained the young man I’d already noticed, catching hold of his sleeve and pulling him down to whisper into his ear. Astonished by the familiarity of this action, so out of keeping with his formal, remote appearance, I felt bewildered, out of my depth altogether. What was going on? Why was I here? The whole situation was quite beyond me. I wanted to interrupt the whispering by demanding to be told why I’d been summoned. Then, all at once, I saw the good-looking fellow on his way to the door, where he glanced around, caught my eye and winked deliberately, thus completing my total confusion.
However, Lord Legion’s next words sounded encouraging. ‘I hear the President finds you most useful.’ It seemed safe to say, ‘All I want is to be of service to him.’ But this merely elicited the dry, disapproving retort, ‘A limited and emotional point of view.’ I decided that I knew nothing. He was staring at me again. ‘Well, haven’t you got anything to tell me?’ The question was put sharply and still more disapprovingly. I got the impression some specific reply was expected but had no idea what it was. Frowning and drumming his fingers on the table, he said in an ominous tone, ‘I’m beginning to think we’re just wasting time.’ I knew nothing about anything. The mixture of impatience, anger and disappointment in his voice made me stammer something apologetic about my own youth and inexperience, reminding him that I’d only lately left college.
Gazing fixedly at me, he remarked, ‘The professors report that you learn very quickly and have an exceptionally good memory. It seems a pity to restrict your talents to one limited sphere.’ A wild notion entered my head. I suppressed it as too fantastic to contemplate. Although it seemed less crazy when he continued, ‘Has it never occurred to you that talent should be pooled for the common good?’ Was it possible . . . ? Surely it couldn’t be . . . and yet . . . With growing excitement I heard, ‘I believe all information should be made available for the maximum benefit of the state.’ There was a slight pause, then, ‘You have access to certain information and are in a position to pass it on. Useful items, of course, have their market value.’
So my idea had been right, incredible as it seemed. At last the reason why I’d been sent for was clear – at last I had grasped it. Astounding vistas began to open before me. But, next moment, I was uncertain again. This couldn’t be happening to me; it was too wildly improbable. I must be dreaming. I was afraid to speak in case I’d been mistaken; until it suddenly struck me that my silence might be misconstrued. Hurriedly, I swallowed a mouthful of brandy, kept my fingers crossed and said cautiously, ‘Thank you for speaking plainly. Of course, I understand now.’
‘And what do you say? Are you prepared to cooperate with me?’ His amused sidelong look was undoubtedly real. This was no dream – it was actually happening. What amazing luck! What a marvellous chance to increase my income! Suddenly I could hardly control my excitement. It was a great effort to say calmly, ‘Certainly. Provided the market value makes it worth my while.’ I couldn’t think why I had been so stupid as not to realize that my intelligence had a value over and above my salary. It was all I could do to remain outwardly cool and collected while he replied, surprising me with a grin, ‘As long as you supply the goods you can count on a generous remuneration.’ At the same time he unlocked a hidden drawer in the gilded table, extracted a fat envelope and handed it to me. ‘This advance should remove your doubts.’
I thanked him. We both stood up. My head was spinning, my heart beating faster than usual. I knew I had reached an important crossroads in my existence. How differently the interview had turned out from what I had feared. Instead of ruining my career, it had opened the way to one far more thrilling and lucrative.
‘The captain will be your contact in future,’ Lord Legion was saying. The handsome young man had reappeared as promptly as if he’d been waiting outside the door. ‘Do as he tells you, and you’ll be making a significant contribution to the welfare of the country.’
But it was my own welfare I was thinking about as, pushing the envelope into my pocket, I saluted and left the room beside the man in the white uniform. He was obviously alert and high-spirited; I thought we should get on well. But I was glad he only came with me as far as the outer gate, which we reached by a much shorter route than the one I had come by. I needed to be alone now, to reflect on all that had taken place, to organize my whirling thoughts and adjust myself to my new role and the wonderful potentialities ahead.
In the darkness, big white flakes were still falling thickly out of the unseen sky. It seemed right and appropriate that snow had hidden the familiar town, revealing another, mysterious, muffled, as different from the place I had always known as my present expanding ideas differed from the small preoccupations of boyhood and adolescence. I hardly recognized my surroundings but followed the empty, snow-bound streets by instinct, oblivious of the cold; delirious visions of future exploits were keeping me warm.
Touching the envelope in my pocket, I thought of tremendous balances accumulating, safe and secret, in various banks around the world, ready to confer on me the supreme power only money can give. Why shouldn’t I work for the secret services of two, three, four, five, six – any number of countries? I felt drunk, exhilarated, carried away, imagining meetings with foreign intelligence chiefs in secret cells under the Alps or the Andes, on satellites in space or bathyspheres on the ocean floor, with tough, beautiful girls who seduced men with their burning languorous eyes or vaporized them with electronic blasters.
Already I saw myself becoming a legend, an insoluble mystery. No one, knowing me as an inconspicuous cog in the Presidential machine, my personality predictably conventional, normal, would ever dream of connecting me with the most fabulous multi-spy of all time; a spectacular hero figure, fearless, ruthless, dashing. While, on the perilous margins of society, I was participating in the desperate intrigues and adventures of the international sub-world, juggling identities with superb psychological skill, I would simultaneously present my consistently mediocre façade without a scrap of evidence that I’d ever possessed another.
I was about to become the world’s best-kept secret; one that would never be told. What a thrilling enigma for posterity I should be!