The Martridrama had been horrible. Ti played horrible games.
A throbbing set in at her temples. Linden was working late. This time, it lasted only about twenty minutes.
She slept.
She came awake again. Gaziel was sitting up in bed on the other side of the room. They looked at each other silently and without moving in the shadowed dimness.
A faint music had begun somewhere. It might be coming out of the walls of the room, or from beyond the window. They couldn’t tell. But it was music they’d heard earlier that night, in the final part of the Martridrama. It swelled gradually, and the view outside the window began to blur, dimmed out by slow pulsing waves of cold drama light which spilled into the room and washed over the floor. A cluster of vague images flickered over the walls, then another.
They edged out of bed, met in the center of the room. For an instant, the floor trembled beneath them.
Telzey whispered unsteadily, “I guess Ti’s putting us on stage!”
Gaziel gave her a look which said, We’ll hope it’s just Ti! “Let’s see if we can get out of this.”
They backed off toward the door. Telzey caught the knob, twisted, tugged. The knob seemed suddenly to melt in her hand.
“Over there!” Gaziel whispered.
There was blackness beyond the window now. A blackness which shifted and stirred. The outlines of the room were moving, began to flow giddily about them. Then it was no longer the room.
They stood on the path of a twisting ravine, lit fitfully by reddish flames lifting out of the rocks here and there, leaping over the ground and vanishing again. The upper part of the ravine was lost in shadows which seemed to press down closely on it. On either side of the path, drawn back from it only a little, was unquiet motion, a suggestion of shapes, outlines, which appeared to be never quite the same, or in the same place, from moment to moment.
They looked back. Something squat and black was walking up the path toward them, its outlines wavering here and there as if it were composed of dense smoke. They turned away from it, started along the path. It was wide enough to let them walk side by side, but not much wider.
Gaziel breathed, “I wish Ti hadn’t picked this one!”
Telzey was wishing it, too. Perhaps they were in no real danger. Ti certainly shouldn’t be willing to waste them if they made a mistake. But they’d seen Martridrama puppets die puppet deaths in this ravine tonight; and if the minds of which Challis had spoken existed and were watching, and if Ti was not watching closely enough, opportunities for their destruction could be provided too readily here.
“We’d better act exactly as if it’s real!” Telzey murmured.
“I know.”
To get safely out of the ravine, it was required to keep walking and not leave the path. The black death which followed wouldn’t overtake them unless they stopped. Whatever moved along the sides of the ravine couldn’t reach them on the path. There were sounds and nearsounds about them, whispers and a hungry whining, wisps of not quite audible laughter, and once a sharp snarl that seemed inches from Telzey’s ear. They kept their eyes on the path, which mightn’t be too stable, ignoring what could be noticed along the periphery of their vision.
It shouldn’t go on much longer, Telzey told herself presently—and then a cowled faceless figure, the shape of a man but twice the height of a man, rose out of the path ahead and blocked their way.
They came to a startled stop. That figure hadn’t appeared in the ravine scene they’d watched. They glanced back. The smoky black thing was less than twenty feet away, striding steadily closer. On either side, there was an abrupt eager clustering of flickering images. The cowled figure remained motionless. They went on toward it. As they seemed about to touch it, it vanished. But the other shapes continued to seethe about now in a growing fury of activity.
The ravine vanished.
They halted again—in a quiet, dim-lit passage, a familiar one. There was an open door twelve feet away. They went through it, drew it shut, were back in the room assigned to them. It looked ordinary enough. Outside the window, tree branches rustled in a sea wind under the starblaze. There were no unusual sounds in the air.
Telzey drew a long breath, murmured, “Looks like the show is over!”
Gaziel nodded. “Ti must have used his override to cut it short.”
Their eyes met uneasily for a moment. There wasn’t much question that somebody hadn’t intended to let them get out of that scene alive! It hadn’t been Ti; and it didn’t seem very likely that it could have been Linden . . .
Telzey sighed. “Well,” she said, “everyone’s probably had enough entertainment for tonight! We’d better get some sleep while we can.”
VI
Ti had a brooding look about him at the breakfast table. He studied their faces for some moments after they sat down, then inquired how they felt.
“Fine,” said Telzey. She smiled at him. “Are just the three of us having breakfast here this morning?”
“Linden’s at work,” said Ti.
“We thought your wife might be eating with us,” Gaziel told him.
Ti made a sound between a grunt and a laugh.
“She died during the night,” he said. “I expected it. She never lasts long.”
“Eh?” said Telzey.
“She was a defective puppet,” Ti explained. “An early model, made in the image of my wife Challis, who suffered a fatal accident some years ago. A computer error, which I’ve been unable to eradicate, causes a copy of the puppet to be produced in the growth vats from time to time. It regards itself as Challis, and because of its physical similarity to her, I don’t like to disillusion it, or dispose of it.” He shrugged. “I have a profound aversion to the thing, but its defects always destroy it again within a limited number of hours.”
He gnawed his lip, observed dourly, “Your appetites seem undiminished! You slept well?”
They nodded. “Except for the Martri stuff, of course,” said Gaziel.
“What was the purpose of that?” Telzey asked.
“A reaction test,” said Ti. “It didn’t disturb you?”
“It was scary enough,” Telzey said. “We knew you didn’t intend to kill us, but at the end it looked like the computer might be getting carried away. Did you have to override it?”
Ti nodded. “Twice, as a matter of fact! It’s quite puzzling! That’s a well-established sequence—it’s been a long time since the computer, or a puppet, attempted a logic modification.”
“Perhaps it was because we weren’t programmed puppets,” Gaziel suggested. “Or because one of us wasn’t a puppet at all.”
Ti shook his head. “Under the circumstances, that should make no difference.” His gaze shifted from one to the other. For an instant, something unpleasant flickered in his eyes. “You may be almost too stable!” he remarked. “Well, we shall see—”
“What will we be doing today?” Telzey asked.
“I’m not certain,” Ti said. “There may be various developments. You’ll be on your own part of the time, at any rate, but don’t go roaming around the estate. Stay in the building area where I can have you paged if I want you.”
They nodded. Gaziel said, “There must be plenty of interesting things to see in the complex. We’ll look around.”
They had some quite definite plans for looking around. The longer Ti stayed busy with other matters during the following hours, the better . . .
It didn’t work out exactly as they’d hoped then. They’d finished breakfast and excused themselves. Gaziel had got out of her chair; Telzey was beginning to get out of hers.
There was something like a dazzling white flash inside her head.
And she was in darkness. Reclining in some kind of very comfortable chair—comfortable except for the fact that she was securely fastened to it. Cool stillness about her. Then a voice.
It wasn’t mind-talk, and it wasn’t sound picked up by her ears. Some stimulation was being applied to audio centers
of her brain.
“You must relax and not resist,” she heard. “You’ve been brought awake because you must try consciously not to resist.”
Cold fear welled through her. Ti had showed them the programming annex of the Martri computer yesterday. She was there now—they were trying to program her! Something was fastened about her skull. Feelings like worm-crawlings stirred in her head.
She tried to push the feelings away. They stopped.
“You must relax,” said the voice in her audio centers. “You must not resist. Think of relaxing and of not resisting.”
The worm-crawlings began again. She pushed at them.
“You are not thinking of relaxing and not resisting,” said the voice. “Try to think of that.”
So the programming annex knew what she was and was not thinking. She was linked into the computer. Ti had said that if a thought was specific enough . . .
“We’ve been trying for almost two hours to get you programmed,” Ti said. “What was your experience?”
“Well, I couldn’t have been awake for more than the last ten minutes,” Telzey said, her expression sullen. “I don’t know what happened the rest of the time.”
Linden said from a console across the room, “We want to know what happened while you were awake.”
“It felt like something was pushing around inside my head.”
“Nothing else?” said Ti.
“Oh, there was a kind of noise now and then.”
“Only a noise? Can you describe it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know how to describe it. It was just a noise. That was inside my head, too.” She shivered. “I didn’t like any of it! I don’t want to be programmed, Ti!”
“Oh, you’ll have to be programmed,” Ti said reasonably. “Let’s be sensible about this. Were you trying to resist the process?”
“I didn’t know how to resist it,” Telzey said. “But I certainly didn’t want it to happen!”
Ti rubbed his chin, looking at her, asked Linden, “How does the annex respond now?”
“Perfectly,” Linden said quietly.
“Well, see how the other subject reacts. Telzey, you wait outside—that door over there. Linden will conduct you out of the annex in a few minutes.”
Telzey found Gaziel standing in the adjoining room. Their eyes met. “Did you get programmed?” Gaziel asked.
Telzey shook her head.
“No. Some difficulty with the annex—almost like it didn’t want me to be programmed.”
Gaziel’s eyelids flickered; she nodded quickly, came over, watching the door, slipped something into Telzey’s dress pocket, stepped back. “I suppose it’s my turn now,” she said.
“Yes,” Telzey said. “They were talking about it. It’s like little worms pushing around inside your head, and there’s a noise. Not too bad really, but you won’t like it. You’ll wish there were a way you could override it.”
Gaziel nodded again.
“I hope it won’t take with me either,” she said. “The idea of walking around programmed is something I can’t stand!”
“If it doesn’t work on you, maybe Ti will give up.” Telzey said.
The door opened and Linden came out. He looked at Gaziel, jerked his thumb at the doorway. “Dr. Ti wants to see you now,” he told her.
“Good luck!” Telzey said to Gaziel. Gaziel nodded, walked into the other room. Linden closed the door on her.
“Come along,” he said to Telzey. “Dr. Ti’s letting you have the run of the building, but he doesn’t want you in the programming annex while he’s working on the other one.”
They started from the room. Telzey said, “Linden—”
“Dr. Linden,” Linden said coldly.
Telzey nodded. “Dr. Linden. I know you don’t like me . . .”
“Quite right,” Linden said. “I don’t like you. You’ve brought me nothing but trouble with Dr. Ti since you first showed up in Draise! In particular, I didn’t appreciate that psi trick you pulled on me.”
“Well, that was self-defense,” Telzey said reasonably. “What would you do if you found someone trying to pry around in your mind? That is, if you could do what I did . . .” She looked reflective. “I don’t suppose you can, though.”
Linden gave her an angry look.
“But even if you don’t like me, or us,” Telzey went on, “you really should prefer it if Ti can’t get us programmed. You’re important to him because you’re the only telepath he has. But, if it turns out we’re both psis, or even only the original one, and he can control us, you won’t be nearly so important any more.”
Linden’s expression was watchful now. “You’re suggesting that I interfere with the process?” he said sardonically.
Telzey shrugged. “Well, whatever you think you can do.”
Linden made a snorting sound.
“I’ll inform Dr. Ti of this conversation,” he told her. He opened another door. “Now get out of my sight!”
She got. Linden had been pushed as far as seemed judicious at present.
She took the first elevator she saw to the third floor above ground level, went quickly to their room. The item Gaziel had placed in her pocket was a plastic package the size of her thumb. She unsealed it, unfolded the piece of paper inside, which was covered with her private shorthand. She read:
Comm office on level seven, sect, eighteen. It’s there. Usable? Janitor-guard, Togelt, buttered up, won’t bother you. Comm man, Rodeen, blurs up like Remiol on stim. Can be hypnoed straight then! No one else around. Got paged before finished. Carry on. Luck.
Me
Telzey pulled open the wardrobe, got out a blouse and skirt combination close enough to what Gaziel had been wearing to pass inspection by Togelt and Rodeen, went to a mirror and began arranging her hair to match that of her double. Gaziel had made good use of the morning! Locating a communicator with which they might be able to get out a message had been high on their immediate priority list, second only to discovering where the island’s air vehicles were kept.
Telzey went still suddenly, eyes meeting those of her mirror image. Then she nodded gently to herself. The prod she’d given Linden had produced quick results! He was worried about the possibility that Ti might acquire one or two controlled psis who could outmatch him unless he established his own controls first.
Her head was aching again—
Preparations has been completed meanwhile. She got out a small map of the central complex she’d picked up in the office while Ti was conducting them around the day before. It was informative quite as much in what it didn’t show as in what it showed. Sizable sections of the upper levels obviously weren’t being shown. Neither was most of the area occupied by the Martri computer, including the Dramateer Room. Presumably these were all places barred to Ti’s general personnel. That narrowed down the search for aircars considerably. They should be in one of the non-indicated places which was also near the outer wall of the complex.
Rodeen was thin, sandy-haired, in his early twenties. He smiled happily at sight of Telzey. His was a lonely job; and Gaziel had left him with the impression that he’d been explaining the island’s communication system to her when Ti had her paged. Telzey let him retain the impression. A few minutes later, she inquired when he’d last been off Ti’s island. Rodeen’s eyes glazed over. He was already well under the influence.
She hadn’t worked much with ordinary hypnosis because there’d been no reason for it. Psi, when it could be used, was more effective, more dependable. But in her general study of the mind, she’d learned a good deal about the subject. Rodeen, of course, was programmed against thinking about the communicator which could reach other points on Orado; it took about twenty minutes to work through that. By then, he was no longer in the least aware of where he was or what he was doing. He opened a safe, brought out the communicator, set it on a table.
Telzey looked it over, asked Rodeen a few questions. Paused then. Quick footsteps came along the passage outside the off
ice. She went to the door.
“What did Togelt think when he saw you?” she asked.
“That I was your twin, of course,” Gaziel said. “Amazing similarity!”
“Ti sure gave up on you fast!”
Gaziel smiled briefly. “You sure got that programming annex paralyzed! Nothing would happen at all—that’s why he gave up. How did you override it?”
“It knew what I was thinking. So I thought the situation was an override emergency which should be referred to the computer director,” Telzey said. “There was a kind of whistling in my head then, which probably was the director. I referred to the message we got from Challis and indicated that letting us be programmed by Ti couldn’t be to the advantage of the Martri side. Apparently, they saw it. The annex went out of business almost at once. Did Ti call for Linden again?” Her headache had stopped some five minutes ago.
Gaziel nodded. “We’ll have some time to ourselves again—Ti’ll page us when he wants us.”
She’d come in through the door. Her gaze went to the table, and she glanced quickly at Telzey’s face. “So you found it. We can’t use it?”
“Not until we get the key that turns it on,” Telzey said, “and probably only Ti knows where it is. Nobody else ever uses the gadget, not even Linden.”
“No good to us at the moment then.” Gaziel looked at Rodeen who was smiling thoughtfully at nothing. “In case we get hold of the key,” she said, “let’s put in a little posthypnotic work on him so we can just snap him back into the trances another time . . .”
They left the office shortly, having restored Rodeen to a normal condition, with memories now only of a brief, but enjoyable, conversation he’d had with the twins.
Telzey glanced at her watch. “Past lunch time,” she remarked. “But Ti may stay busy a while today. Let’s line up the best spots to look for aircars.”
The complex map was consulted. They set off for another upper-level section.
Complete Short Fiction (Jerry eBooks) Page 221