‘I’ll be there,’ said Marie. She spoke eagerly, aware that something was wrong, but held completely helpless from within. The breakfast seemed a way out, a suitable substitute.
They had their breakfast together shortly after dawn in a cafe across from the hotel (the hotel coffee room, it turned out, did not open until 7:30 a.m.) From the moment that they sat down, Marie noticed that Nicer had a faraway look in his eyes, and that he kept glancing at his watch. He seemed to find it difficult to put his attention on her.
From this she drew the conclusion, correctly or incorrectly, that he had never been interested in her as a person but only as a woman … So I was right, she thought, right, right to do what I did.
She didn’t notice that it was her first admission that she had done anything.
Despite these side issues, her attention moved quickly to the important matter. ‘What happened?’
His response was to hand her a letter. In giving it to her, he said, ‘This will explain my connection with events at the Hazzard Laboratories.’
The letter was addressed to Military Liaison in Washington, D.C. It stated:
‘We have on hand your cautionary reminder. Since I have been temporarily attached to this office for nearly six weeks now, I am with Major Porter’s concurrence herewith answering on his behalf.
‘The major and I have taken note of your statement that it is now more than two decades since the secret information, which became known as The Pentagon Papers, was leaked to The New York Times. We are determined not to be lulled by the fact that no comparable raid has been made on confidential material since that time. We welcome your admonishment to be careful. It is Major Porter’s estimate that here in the west coast office there are thousands of documents relating to large and small industrial complexes, which manufacture equipment for the military and for the space program under heavy security regulations.
‘It is my belief,’ the letter continued, ‘that if the personal details that we have in our files were ever leaked to the media, the public would become highly critical of the moral rectitude of the top people in industry and science. Since I came here directly from a long tour abroad, particularly in the European theatre, I am in a position to report how startling some of this information has been to me. I am particularly surprised at the profound influence of the man-woman relationship on security matters. In Europe, the mixing of sex and war and espionage is a commonplace. To find it here in virtually equal intensity makes me wonder if perhaps America is not being Europeanized rather than the reverse.
‘I feel that this first reaction I have is worth holding onto. It is so easy to become anaesthetized, so to speak, to human misbehavior. And so, while I continue to have a keen awareness, I would like to send you some of the background aspects of the case I was brought over to solve. I propose in several letters, along with the appropriate tape transcriptions, to deal with one aspect at a time, and make comments on implications which seem important to me in my heightened reaction state. (Since this case is still unresolved, perhaps your experts might give us some suggestions.)
‘As you know, when we move in on a company, large or small, we send in teams of technicians. These individuals not only check the organization’s alarm and security system but they also bug the place thoroughly. The information from dozens of hidden microphones comes here to our computer, and is organized and cross-indexed. It is then available for study by authorized personnel.
‘The aspect of the case which I am enclosing may be of particular interest to you because of the considerable publicity that attended the death (by a hit-run driver) of Dr. Carl Hazzard a year ago—if indeed he can be said to have died.
‘You will observe, though the fact has not yet been reported to the public, that the disembodied brain of Dr. Hazzard is now mobile. At the request of the Brain Study Foundation, a special agent of the Motor Vehicle Department gave him a drivers’ test. He passed the test, and received his license. If for any reason he is challenged by a traffic officer, he is to show a special card which, apparently, he is physically able to extend through the car window.
‘At the moment, I have no comment about the so-called alienoids, but will have trusted (whatever that means these days) agents listen to the tapes, which minute-by-minute record the events taking place at the Hazzard Laboratories.
‘Presumably, since leading members of the alienoid gang were briefly under arrest, there will be further developments. But it should be noted that
That was as far as her copy of the letter went. Marie looked up. ‘Is there more?’ she asked.
A strong, lean, tanned hand reached across the table, took hold of the sheets, and tugged them out of her fingers. Marie watched silently as Nicer folded the letter, and pushed it into an inside breast pocket.
‘That’s all you need to know, isn’t it?’ He spoke in a light tone.
‘I’m breathless,’ said Marie.
But she realized she was also relieved. She recognized special consideration when she saw it. And this that he was doing was a very intimate thing. Under other circumstances, it would have been extremely wrong of him to reveal to any top person of the Hazzard Laboratories that the place was under close surveillance.
He must know everything, she thought.
As she considered the implications, the color started up her cheeks. And yet, once again, the sense of relief came, stronger than before.
Philip Nicer said, ‘I’m taking it for granted that you will not reveal the contents of that letter to anyone.’
‘Of course,’ said Marie. ‘But now, quick tell me. Who attacked us, and what were they after?’
‘They removed something in a truck,’ he said cautiously. ‘We don’t know what yet.’
Marie stared at him across the table, momentarily blank. Then she put her fork down. Then: ‘You can’t be serious. You stopped them, didn’t you? You arrested them all, surely?’
Even as she spoke the words, the realization was in her that he had done nothing of the kind.
‘But why not?’ Her voice was high-pitched. ‘Why not?’
The man shook his head, with a faint smile. ‘You’ve got us confused with the police.’ He explained matter-of-factly, ‘They’re not our kind of business.’
‘B-but they’re a gang of conspirators.’
Even as she uttered the protest, the truth was sinking in. ‘You can’t be serious,’ she said. ‘You let them all go.’
‘They left—’ he shrugged—‘and we didn’t stop them.’
‘B-but—’
The lean face was visibly amused now at her bewilderment. ‘This country swarms with special interest groups that operate outside the law,’ said Nicer, ‘or at its precarious edge. We have now got this group recorded in our files, and we may gradually accumulate further information about the people in it.’ He spread his hands in a dismissing gesture.
Marie was recovering, and beginning to have a glimmer of the limitations by which government agencies operated. She thought:—The left eye of the law does not pay attention to what the right eye is looking at …
It was a momentary glimpse of the espionage universe of Colonel Philip Nicer. For that moment, she was fascinated. The next instant, suspicion surged.
Then it isn’t over,’ she said.
‘I hope it is.’
Marie hesitated. She was reluctant to make an accusation; but the doubting thoughts had come. Abruptly, she couldn’t stop herself. ‘How,’ she asked—the first question—‘did the alienoids find out where Carl was?’
Nicer chuckled softly. ‘We had a woman call up police headquarters, and tip them off. We figured the information would be passed on. And it was.’
‘B-but—’ Marie began.
She couldn’t go on. The large thought that was suddenly in her mind was that, not ‘we’, but he had done this. And that he had done it in order to put the pressure on a woman.
On her.
Her memory raced over the letter she had just read; recalled
Nicer’s suave reference to the mixing of sex, business, and espionage in Europe—implying that such things were done by other people. And that the behavior involved was new in America.
For God’s sake, Marie thought, he’s the worst of them all.
But she knew better. Not worst; merely the same. Men were like this. They moved in on a woman without mercy. And, presently, after she was captured she forgot exactly how it had been done. And, besides, there was also the ego satisfaction in being wanted.
Sitting there, she coined a Dr. Marie Hazzard aphorism about the man-woman thing: ‘All human males are rats, but some of them are charming rats because they like you and not someone else.’
Even as she made up the pleasant little bit of wit—not an aphorism at all, not basic—her body, and the way she moved her head, reflected (if only the language could be read) that there were but a few types of males that she had ever even noticed: the Dr. MacKerries, the Dr. Hazzards, and the Colonel Philip Nicers. Other men—the kind who make good husbands—she had never noticed, as men. She looked through them as if they were neuter objects in space-time.
Unobservant of her tunnel vision in relation to males, slightly amused for a moment by her pleasant thought, Marie grew aware that Nicer was continuing his argument:
‘My dear Marie,’ he said, ‘we absolutely have to find out what these alienoids are up to. So, last night we forced a confrontation.’
Marie remembered her second question. ‘And who,’ she asked, ‘made the decision not to take these people into custody?’
There seemed to be no pause. Nicer said, ‘I did.’ His voice was steady, disarming.
On one level, that confirmed her swift suspicion. But on another, her own life experience reminded her that there were numberless problems that had no black or white solutions. It was possible that this particular group of criminals—the alienoids—should simply be taken note of by military intelligence agents.
Unfortunately, the practical result was that nothing was settled for sure. Nicer could guarantee only his implied belief that the alienoids were not a threat to national security. Meanwhile, his microphones and his men would continue to monitor Hazzard Laboratories, and she would be under his protection if anything developed.
That is, she would be if he accepted that a woman like her didn’t have to pay the price, because—well—
Vague thoughts.
Which ended as, with a start, she remembered Carl. ‘What about and there she paused, and then she used a word that had not crossed her lips in relation to Carl for nearly fourteen years—‘about my husband? Have you talked to him?’
And he did something instantly, also. ‘Marie, think! This man Carl Hazzard—’ Yes, this man was what he said—‘has shown an innate impulse to be a man of action. He has already of his own free will gone into extremely dangerous situations, and apparently handled himself skillfully in them. We must trust that he did the same last night.’
He glanced at his watch. ‘We assumed the place might be mined, and of course we don’t wish to be openly associated with what happened, so your watchman a few minutes from now—at 7:15—will advise the F.B.I. of what happened. Now that it is light enough, they will go inside, and, conduct an investigation. We may assume that they will see to it that the phones are reconnected, and at that time you will have an opportunity to talk to Carl.’
Nicer concluded his formal summary: ‘So far as Carl is concerned, our bugging system can only go by sounds and voices. All we heard from the Brain Room was the door open and men come in. No one said anything. No shot was fired. So our analysis is that Carl unlocked his door, and simply sat there pretending to be part of the equipment. Our guess is that he got away with it, because the men presently left.’
He glanced at her. ‘Any comment?’ he asked.
Marie said simply, ‘Thank you. That’s what I wanted to know.’
With that, the interflow between them warmed suddenly.
‘What I would like,’ said Nicer, ‘is for this threat to continue—in view of the kind of woman you are—until … until …’
He stopped; and Marie finished for him: ‘Until you’re assigned to another theatre of action.’
It was, in fact, what he had started to say. But the truth was, this was his last assignment. He had put in for a release from duty by the end of the year. That was not a piece of information that he wanted known, as yet.
Nothing to do but attempt to recover. ‘That’s it,’ he agreed. ‘However—’ more firmly—‘next time I phone you and ask if I can come up to visit you, that will be your moment of final decision. You can see that in my situation I cannot spend time in pursuit of a woman. What you decide next time will be yes or no forever.’
By that devious route, they were back on the kind of direct communication line that is possible between a man and a woman.
Marie flashed, ‘Will you be faithful to me? I’d hate to be one of a harem.’
Nicer protested, ‘I’ve only got twenty-four hours a day. I sleep about six. I’ll call you four nights a week, and we’ll meet here at this hotel. That room up there is a permanent room I maintain—’
‘When? What hour?’
He told her, and she was startled. ‘Are you serious? That late every time?’
‘Every time,’ Nicer echoed, with a faint smile.
The dialogue sounded intensely real to both of them; and they both showed slightly stronger color in their faces. Under other circumstances, with someone other than Marie, the breakfast might have ended in a wild dash for the hotel room.
But the truth was he had already conveyed the wrong thought. She was to be a temporary girl friend, casually discardable on the day of his departure. On the surface, Marie ignored that reality. In many ways, she was sophisticated. Her observations of life told her that people did things like that. And so she talked glibly, as if next time—whenever that might be, now or later—she would not be a barrier.
This, alas, falsehood was not subjected to an immediate test. Nicer had been glancing at his watch again. ‘I really have to go,’ he said reluctantly. ‘I do have that 7:45 meeting.’
Outside in the street, as Nicer hailed a cab for her, Marie noticed the headline on a paper at the corner newsstand: ‘HUGE VESSEL SIGHTED IN STRATOSPHERE.’ She said, ‘I wonder what that could be.’ Nicer bought the paper, but said nothing; simply held it so that she could see it more clearly.
She had time to read the first few lines: ‘Astronaut Roger Dord, returning from a spacelab tour, reports sighting a large, cigar-shaped object in rapid motion—’
The cab door was open. Nicer guided her to it. As she stopped to climb in, she said, ‘That’s probably all we need: another flying saucer craze
Inside the cab, sitting, she thought:—Alienoids, flying saucers, ugh! …
Mrs. Gray let her in the front door. As she stepped across the threshold, the phone started to ring. ‘Oh,’ Marie was delighted, ‘they’ve got it reconnected. Good.’
She hurried into her office-study and picked up the receiver, and said, ‘This is Marie Hazzard.’
‘Dr. Marie,’ said a man’s voice, ‘this is Paul’ Gannott. Is my name familiar to you?’
‘N-no.’
‘Your husband didn’t think it would be. So I’m sorry to have to inform you that in two outings that he made as a mobile unit, he mixed in matters that were none of his business. So last night we went into your laboratories and captured him—’
Marie was silent; blank. Something inside her was sinking, down, down. A sense that she was listening to someone who spoke out of a position of total power.
‘Now, here is what you must do. Our big ship has arrived. It insists that it must take the disembodied brain of Dr. Carl back to Deea after the conquest of earth—’
Marie found her voice, but she really had nothing to say. ‘I’m sorry—’ she began, vaguely, ‘I don’t think I—’
Back to blankness.
The man’s voice said, firmly, ‘Dr. Marie,
here is the situation so far as you are concerned. On its two previous visits to earth, the ship was programmed to accept that earth wives accompanied their husbands wherever they went. We can deduce that a hundred years ago in the Victorian era when the first visit took place, the status of women was such that whoever did the programming took that for granted. What this means is that you must be completely ready to leave tomorrow night with all your baggage. Now, let’s be sure you understand what to do. Have you got a pen or pencil handy?’
Suddenly, her mind was flying … The important thing is to get that address—Belatedly, she remembered her phone recorder. Her fingers leaped and pressed the button. ‘Yes, yes,’ she murmured.
‘The truck will come for you at nine o’clock,’ said the baritone voice. ‘If you wish we’ll even take your furniture. We want you to be comfortable and happy. So be sure to take anything that you could possibly have any use for. Got that?’
‘Yes,’ mumbled Marie.
‘That’s all I have to say. Now, here’s your husband to confirm what I’ve just told you.’
There was a pause. As Marie hesitated, Carl’s unmistakable voice said in an eager tone, ‘Marie, isn’t this the greatest thing you’ve ever heard of?’
‘Uh,’ said Marie.
‘Think, darling,’ his voice went jubilantly, ‘what this means for me. I’ve had no hope, just an endless blankness ahead of me living here with things that I know—the same old stereotype earth. Suddenly, the whole universe opens up. A race that has already conquered space travel. They’re a little slow yet in their travelling, but they can put us both into periods of suspended animation six years at a time, and then six months of being conscious. Just you and me out there; and we fit together, Marie. Me, the sexual nothing, and you the forever good woman. Now, listen, dear, there’s certain things that I’ll need. Go into the Brain Room, and get—’
He named some of the recharge paraphernalia that was there, finished happily, ‘Marie, out there in space I’ll make up to you all my previous failures as a husband. We’ll be such pals as no one has ever been before. I’m being signaled. Goodbye, for now sweetheart.’
The Secret Galactics Page 7