The Hate Disease
Page 11
We can't take it any otherway--except by dying!"
He stood up. He reached for the blaster Calhoun had put aside when hechanged from the clothes he'd worn in the city.
"...And I'll take it that way!"
Calhoun whirled. His fist snapped out. The grid operator reeled out.The blaster dropped from his hand. Murgatroyd cried out shrilly, fromhis cubbyhole. He hated violence, did Murgatroyd.
Calhoun stood over the operator, raging:
"It's not that bad yet! You haven't yawned once! You can stand theneed for monstrousness for a long while yet! And I need you!"
He turned away. The President's voice boomed. It cut off abruptly.Another voice took its place. And this was the bland and unctuousvoice of Dr. Lett.
"_My friends! I am Dr. Lett! I have been entrusted with all the powersof the government because I, and I alone, have all the power over thecause of the para condition. From this moment I am the government! Toparas--you need not be cured unless you choose. There will be placesand free supplies for you to enjoy the deep satisfactions known onlyto you! To nonparas--you will be protected from becoming paras exceptby your own choice. In return, you will obey! The price of protectionis obedience. The penalty for disobedience will be loss of protection.But those from whom protection is withdrawn will not be supplied withtheir necessities! Paras, you will remember this! Nonparas, do notforget it_!" His voice changed. "_Now I give an order! To the policeand to nonparas: You will no longer resist paras! To paras: You willenter Government Center quietly and peacefully. You will not molestthe nonparas you come upon. I begin at once the organization of a newsocial system in which paras and nonparas must co-operate. There mustbe obedience to the utmost--_"
* * * * *
The grid operator cursed as he rose from the floor. Calhoun did notnotice. The computer had finally delivered a strip of paper on whichwas the answer he had demanded. And it was of no use. Calhoun saidtonelessly:
"Turn that off, will you?"
While the grid operator obeyed, Calhoun read and reread the strip oftape. He had lacked something of good color before, but as he reread,he grew paler and paler. Murgatroyd got down restlessly from hiscubbyhole. He sniffed. He went toward the small locked chest in whichCalhoun had put away the plastic container of living scavengers. Heput his nose to the crack of that chest's cover.
"_Chee!_" he said confidently. He looked at Calhoun. Calhoun did notnotice.
"This," said Calhoun, completely white, "This is bad! It's ... it's ananswer, but it would take time to work it out, and we haven't got thetime! And to make it and to distribute it--"
The grid operator growled. Dr. Lett's broadcast had verifiedeverything Calhoun said. Dr. Lett was now the government of TallienThree. There was nobody who could dare oppose him. He could makeanybody into a para, and then deny that para his unspeakablenecessities. He could turn anybody on the planet into a madman withferocious and intolerable appetites, and then deny them theirsatisfaction. The people of Tallien Three were the slaves of Dr. Lett.The grid operator said in a deadly voice:
"Maybe I can get to him and kill him before--"
Calhoun shook his head. Then he saw Murgatroyd sniffing at the chestnow holding the container of live scavengers. Open, it had had a faintbut utterly disgusting odor. Locked up, Calhoun could not smell it.But Murgatroyd could. He sniffed. He said impatiently to Calhoun:
"_Chee! Chee-chee!_"
Calhoun stared. His lips tightened. It was the function of the_tormal_ members of the Med Service to react to any infection moreswiftly than humans could do, and to develop antibodies whichdestroyed that infection and could be synthesized to cure it inhumans. But Murgatroyd was immune only to infections. To toxins. Hewas not immune to an appetite-causing molecule demanding more ofitself on penalty of madness. Murgatroyd had no more inherentresistance than a man.
"_Chee-chee!_" he chattered urgently. "_Chee-chee-chee!_"
"It's got him," said Calhoun. He felt sickened. "It'll have me.Because I can't synthesize anything as complex as the computer says isneeded to control the molecular population that makes paras!"
Murgatroyd chattered again. He was indignant. He wanted something andCalhoun didn't give it to him. He could not understand so preposterousa happening. He reached up and tugged at Calhoun's trouser-leg.Calhoun picked him up and tossed him the width of the control room.He'd done it often, in play, but this was somehow different.Murgatroyd stared incredulously at Calhoun.
"To break it down," said Calhoun bitterly, "I need aromatic olefinesand some acetone, and acetic-acid radicals and methyl submoleculargroups. To destroy it absolutely I need available unsaturatedhydrocarbons--they'll be gases! And it has to be kept from reformingas it's broken up, and I may need twenty different organic radicalsavailable at the same time! It's a month's work for a dozen competentmen just to find out how to make it, and I'd have to make it inquantity for millions of people and persuade them of its necessityagainst all the authority of the government and the hatred of theparas, and then distribute it--"
* * * * *
Murgatroyd was upset. He wanted something that Calhoun wouldn't givehim. Calhoun had shown impatience--almost an unheard-of thing!Murgatroyd squirmed unhappily. He still wanted the thing in the chest.But if he did something ingratiating....
He saw the blaster, lying on the floor. Calhoun often petted him when,imitating, he picked up something that had been dropped. Murgatroydwent over to the blaster. He looked back at Calhoun. Calhoun pacedirritably up and down. The grid operator stood with clenched hands,contemplating the intolerable and the monstrous.
Murgatroyd picked up the blaster. He trotted over to Calhoun. Heplucked at the man's trouser-leg again. He held the blaster in theonly way his tiny paw could manage it. A dark, sharp-nailed fingerrested on the trigger.
"_Chee-chee!_" said Murgatroyd.
He offered the blaster. Calhoun jumped when he saw it in Murgatroyd'spaw. The blaster jerked, and Murgatroyd's paw tightened to hold it. Hepulled the trigger. A blaster-bolt crashed out of the barrel. It was aminiature bolt of ball-lightning. It went into the floor, vaporizingthe surface and carbonizing the multi-ply wood layer beneath it. TheMed Ship suddenly reeked of wood smoke and surfacer. Murgatroyd fledin panic to his cubbyhole and cowered in its farthest corner.
But there was a singular silence in the Med Ship. Calhoun's expressionwas startled; amazed. He was speechless for long seconds. Then he saidblankly:
"Damnation! How much of a fool can a man make of himself when he worksat it? Do you smell that?" He shot the question at the grid operator."Do you smell that? It's wood smoke! Did you know it?"
Murgatroyd listened fearfully, blinking.
"Wood smoke!" said Calhoun between his teeth. "And I didn't see it!Men have had fires for two million years and electricity for half athousand. For two million years there was no man or woman or child whowent a full day without breathing in some wood smoke! And I didn'trealize that it was so normal a part of human environment that it wasa necessary one!"
There was a crash. Calhoun had smashed a chair. It was an odditybecause it was make of wood. Calhoun had owned it because it was odd.Now he smashed it to splinters and piled them up and flungblaster-bolt after blaster-bolt into the heap. The air inside the MedShip grew pungent; stinging; strangling. Murgatroyd sneezed. Calhouncoughed. The grid operator seemed about to choke. But in the white fogCalhoun cried exultantly:
"Aromatic olefines! Acetone! Acetic acid radicals and methylsubmolecular groups! And smoke has unsaturated hydrocarbon gases. Thisis the stuff our ancestors have breathed in tiny quantities for ahundred thousand generations! Of course it was essential to them! Andto us! It was a part of their environment, so they had to have a usefor it! And it controlled the population of certain molecules...."
The air system gradually cleared away the smoke, but the Med Shipstill reeked of wood-smoke smells.
"Let's check on this thing!" snapped Calhoun. "Murgatroyd!"
* * * * *
Murgatroyd came timidly to the door of his cubbyhole. He blinkedimploringly at Calhoun. At a repeated command he came unhappily to hismaster. Calhoun petted him. Then he opened the chest in which acontainer held living scavengers which writhed and swam and seemed toseethe. He took out that container. He took off the lid.
Murgatroyd backed away. His expression was ludicrous. There was noquestion but that his nose was grievously offended. Calhoun turned tothe grid operator. He extended the sample of scavengers. The grid manclenched his teeth and took it. Then his face worked. He thrust itback into Calhoun's hand.
"It's--horrible!" he said thickly. "Horrible!" Then his jaw dropped."I'm not