“And I have loyalty and love for my three cryos. I want everyone to become them.”
“By killing off humanity? I’m biomorphic.”
“It’s that damned Extro,” he growled. “It’s the killer.”
“Why can’t you dump it?”
“Guig, you know about multiple personality?”
“Y.”
“I’m suffering from multimultiple personality. I’ve got the entire electronic network in my head. That’s why I’m hiding down here. It’s another remarkable phenomenon which must be investigated, but not until I’ve finished with my cryos. I have time.”
“So the Extro is running you.”
“Y. N.”
“You’re running it.”
“Y. N.”
“Make up your mind.”
“Which mind? I have thousands.”
“Brother, I love you.”
“I love you, brother.”
“And I’m going to kill you.”
“Cain and Abel?”
“Goe and catche a falling starre.”
“Get with child a mandrake roote,” he picked it up.
“Tell me, where all past yeares are,” I went on.
“Or who cleft the Divel’s foot.”
“If thou beest borne to strange sights.”
“You’ve skipped, Guig.”
“I know. Go ahead anyway. I want to get to the point.”
“Things invisible to see.”
“Ride ten thousand daies and nights.”
“Till age snow white haires on thee.”
“Thou, when thou retorn’st, wilt tell mee.”
“All strange wonders that befell thee… .”
That was enough for my argument, so I made it.
“The point, Chief. Strange wonders have befallen thee, brother. I envy you. I want to be part of it. I’m sure the entire Group will. But you start a massacre. W? Are you still fighting the ancient Indian wars?”
“No. No. No. That’s gone with the past years. Is there a war? Yes. Yes. Yes. Now listen carefully, Guig. Ten thousand years ago we lived within our environment. We took only what we needed. We returned what we couldn’t use. We were all one organism. We did not destroy the balance. Now what? We’ve destroyed, destroyed, destroyed. Where is the fossil fuel? All going. The fish and animals? All going. The woods and jungles? Going. The soil? Going? Everything? Going, going, gone.
“You’re quoting verse, are you? Do you know this? ‘You have brought down the firmament and yet no heaven is more near. You shape huge deeds without event, and half-made men believe and fear.’ By God, Guig, we are all half-made men, a failed species, believing and fearing and destroying, and I’ll replace us. You said I was astromorphic. D’you think I want the plague of man to pollute the stars? We poison the cosmos at her roots.”
“When you say replace you mean kill.”
“No, we’ll merely crowd the failed breed out with the new. The killing is the Extro. It’s monstrous.”
“And you can’t dump it?”
“How? It’s moved in on me forever.”
“You don’t want to anyway.”
“No, I don’t. It’s too valuable a tool to throw away. The trouble is, I can’t control it yet.”
“Y. It’s like a Battle of Giants, but you’re outnumbered, brother, two-to-one.”
“How do you mean?”
“There’s another giant joined up with the Extro, and you’re being used by them, you damned dizzard switchboard. You’ll never control them.”
“Maybe you’d better kill me, brother,” he said wearily.
Now what answer could an angry man make to that? Thank God, at the moment a hover whispered up from the GM end, stopped, and the Hebe eased out. (Hilly doesn’t hop.) He came up to us and said, “So we’ve got you surrounded. Dr. Guess, I presume. I’m Hillel, the Jew, and were there ever any British Guiana one-cents or was it all a paper chase? V clumsy. My dear Guess, you must learn to consult the Group when you want to swing a swindle. You can’t depend on a computer.”
Either Hilly’s unexpected appearance or his aplomb left the redskin speechless.
“Supplies, I see,” Hilly chatted. “Suppose you take them to wherever it is and Guig and I will help you off-load. I must have a look at your cryonauts.”
The Chief got back into his hover, still wordless, and turned up Capsulestrasse. Hillel and I followed. Long Lance came out of the stonework and hissed. I shook my head and he melted again. Hilly nodded in approval. Nothing escapes him. He surveyed the extraction chamber with one sweep, and X-rayed the cryonauts with another. “They only speak music,” I murmured. Hilly nodded and gave them “Hatikvah” while he helped the Chief unload. They loved it. The Chief was silent, probably trying to cope with the unexpected by thinking in bunches. I was silent, too, because I was in a damnable dilemma.
At one point Hilly whispered to me, “Look at this, Guig,” and opened a small box. It contained a dozen steel sewing needles.
“So he’s going to make clothes for them,” I said.
“Not my point. Watch.”
He put the box on the flagged floor. It swung around by itself and aimed at the power cables. Hilly turned it back, let go, and it swung around again.
“That answers the question,” he said.
“What question?”
“The question you haven’t asked yourself yet.”
He saw I wasn’t interested, dropped it, and turned to the Chief. “May we speak words without upsetting your most remarkable creatures?” he asked pleasantly.
“It depends on the music of your voice,” Sequoya answered. “Apparently yours pleases them.”
“Yes. A racial legacy. So does yours, evidently. So we can talk.”
“About what?”
“An appeal. You and your cryonauts are about to make history. You will be remembered forever. Don’t hide down here. Come out into the open and let us help and protect you. You know you can depend on us.”
“No. This mission belongs to me.”
“To be sure. And no one will be permitted to cut into any piece of your credit. It’s all yours.”
“No. I don’t need help.”
“All right, another appeal. Your astonishing symbiosis with the Extro and the electronic network. That must be researched. It’s a giant forward step in evolution. Won’t you let us help you?”
“No.”
“Dr. Guess, you’re making history and yet you seem to be aborting yourself. Why? According to Guig’s reports you’re no longer what you were. Why? Aren’t you in control?”
“N.”
“Are you governed by the Extro?”
“N.”
“Do you govern it?”
“N.”
“It’s like a bad marriage. Does it know you’re hiding down yere?”
“Y, but it can’t reach me down here.”
“Doesn’t your hover tattle when you’re up there?”
“A machine’s memory is only as long as the sophistication of its electronics. The hover has awareness of the moment, no more.”
“Existentialist. But the Extro remembers.”
“Y.”
“Is it alive?”
“Tell me what life is and I can answer.”
“I can answer, Dr. Guess. It’s alive through you. Tell me why you’re hiding from your partner down here.”
“Because I’m confused, damn you!” he shouted. The cryos recoiled. “Too much has happened to me and I’m trying to sort it out. I’m having difficulties with my cryos; they keep spooking and I don’t know why. There’s too much I don’t know. For God’s sake, leave me alone!”
“I understand and wilco, but in return you must leave us alone.”
“I told Guig. I have nothing to do with the killings.”
“Then you must stop giving life to the killers.”
“How?”
“Leave this planet. Go beyond transmission.”
“Never. I’ll take cover
but I’m damned if I’ll run.”
“Ah. You’re headstrong. It’s the recent elevation. Intoxicating. Guig was like that after Krakatoa, imperious and sulky. It will pass. It must. When it does, come to the Group. Ready, Guig?”
He turned and I followed him out. Sequoya watched us go, looking angry and bewildered and yet stubborn. The cryos chased after us, humming for more ragtime, but they stopped short at the entrance to the chamber. “That’s the question you didn’t ask,” Hillel said. “The energy field holds them here. You’re one rotten inductor, Guig.”
“I’m one rotten everything.”
“That’s a silly self-down. Don’t you know that the Group envies you?”
“For what?”
“Something too many of us have lost.”
“What?”
“Passion. When you lose that you lose your humanity. Where’s Long Lance?”
I hissed and Long Lance appeared.
“I want him to stay, watch, and report,” Hilly said.
I made Sign. “Stay. Watch. Report.”
He made Sign. “Report where?”
“Big canoe.”
He nodded and melted. We got into Hilly’s hover and took off.
“Two things,” I said. “No, three. I must have it out with Nat. I want a conference with the Group. You know where they’re scattered. Collect them.”
“And the third?”
“There can’t be a hit. This brilliant son of a bitch has got to be saved.”
Hilly smiled. “Then there’s nothing to have out with Mrs. Curzon.” He began to hum “Hatikvah.”
13
I scraped up all I could on short notice,” Hillel said. “We’re meeting in Retchvic. We can’t be eavesdropped in Iceland.”
“D’you think the Extro network tailed you to them?”
“Barely an outside chance. I used cash only; no ID. Your cash, by the way.”
“Mine?”
“Capo Rip’s. Mrs. Curzon handed it over to me.”
“How much?”
“About a million and a half. I have the balance waiting for you.”
“Who’d you get from the Group?”
“M’bantu, Tosca, Domino, Ampersand, Queenie, Herb Wells, and No-Name.”
“Oh, God! Not that nothing.”
“Then you, of course, myself, and our host, Erik the Red.”
Y. Erik owns most of Greenland and Iceland. He has geyser power and probably owns half the hot springs in this heat-hungry world.
“No Poulos?”
“The Greek’s not coming.”
“More important business?”
“No.”
“You couldn’t get in touch with him?”
“No.”
“That’s not like you, Hilly.”
“No one will ever get in touch with him again.”
“What!”
“He’s dead.”
“What? No. Not Poulos… .”
“A Malay kris through the heart.”
I was speechless. At last I stammered, “I—No. Not the Syndicate. No. It couldn’t happen. He’s too brilliant—careful—aware… .”
“Not enough for the Rajah.”
“Where did it—”
“Calcutta. Last week.”
“Give me a moment, Hilly… .”
“All the time you need.”
When I came below from the deck I washed my mouth and face. I was in control again. “You said a Malay kris. How do you know?”
“Left in his heart.”
“But Malay?”
“A hired assassin. These kinks bind up their putz until they’re in agony and then carry out the holy mission. The local polizei say it was planned like a commando raid, with support, flankers, and backups. God knows how many firstclass jimps the Rajah has on his payroll. The Greek must have been closing in on him, and he didn’t stand a chance.”
“If the Rajah can hit the Greek—”
“We’re all as good as dead. How do you feel now? I know because it took me the same way in Calcutta. Have you got the strength to give me your news?”
“I can try,” I said heavily.
“Good man. Go ahead. Gescheft is gescheft. Business is business, and it’s our only salvation.”
“You are R, as usual. There was nothing to have out with Nat. She’s all for stopping our brother and saving him. She just didn’t want to go the hit route. I’ll bring her along to Retchvic.” It was painful, talking.
“Good. And?”
“Long Lance came back to the big canoe day before yesterday. Nothing to report. Sequoya is still down there educating his babies.”
“Even better. We can go on using transport safely while he’s separated from the Extro. The trouble is, we don’t know when he’ll come up again, so we’ll have to move fast. Where are the braves?” Hilly was v. brisk. It helped.
“Nat sent them back to Erie.”
“Gung. Let’s move it to Iceland.”
“What about this big canoe?”
“Gottenu! Who cares? We’ll leave it. Maybe it’ll start another Sargasso Sea in Lake Mitch. We’re for Retchvic.”
Erik’s pleasance in Iceland was a giant, steaming greenhouse festooned with exotic tropical plants. The guests from the Group were all there when we arrived and all in character; but as I’ve said, we’re all characters and always in character. A few touches: A drab little woman you wouldn’t look at twice was Tosca, the compelling actress who has been sweeping the media for generations with her electrifying performances. The flamboyant diva in eye-catching costume was Queenie in drag. We have never been able to persuade him to undergo a transsex transformation. He says he prefers remaining a faggot. Erik isn’t red and isn’t even a Scandy. He looks like a jolly Karl Marx.
There were greetings, of course, and the gallant M’bantu put Natoma on his arm and escorted her around, introducing her. He was particularly proud of the tremendous progress she’d made with her XX. I began to wonder whether I should shift my apprehensions from the Greek to the Zulu. Certainly both of them outclassed me, but when you get right down to it every member of the Group outclassed me with the exception of the nothing No-Name who now seemed on the verge of falling into a pitcher plant.
“This is Guig’s meeting,” Hilly said casually, “but I’d better brief you first. You’ll all recall that when I contacted you I handed you a slip of paper asking you to come to Erik’s immediately on an urgent matter. It warned you not to speak and to use cash transport without ID so that you couldn’t be traced. I didn’t use ear-beads or cassettes for a most interesting reason. The whole planet is enmeshed in the damndest electronic bugging network conceivable, the result of Guig’s recruitment of our newest and most splendid Group member. He’ll be our pride, but presently he’s created a crisis which you know about, more or less. Here’s the complete scene.” Hilly gave it to them, fast and acute. Then he turned the meeting over to me. I got to my feet and here is the conference, names withheld on the grounds of Group privilege.
“First, I must reenforce what the Jew has told you. The renegade is a savage, dangerous enemy. The murder of Poulos demonstrates that, and no one knows who will be next if we don’t stop him.”
“You don’t call him the Rajah?”
“No. I’m not so sure as Hilly because the Rajah doesn’t make sense to me as a vendettist. Why? There’s no reason I can think of. I hold that it might be anyone, including myself. Trust no one. Be on your guard.”
“D’you think it might be Guess?”
“Not likely. He’s merely the human switchboard that makes all this possible. The problem: How do you kill the switchboard? Shut up, Nat. You don’t know where I’m headed.”
“Poison is out. Just an hors d’oeuvre.”
“So is gas.”
“It’s got to be an external killing.”
“A stab through the heart, like Poulos.”
“Or a burn.”
“Blow him up, like the attempt on Guig.”
> “Simple beheading.”
“Ugh!”
“Yes, we know. You nearly accompanied Danton in the tumbril.”
“Whatever happened to Dr. Guillotine, by the way?”
“Died in bed, not regretted.”
“If you want a neat, tasteful death, shoot Guess into space.”
“How would that kill him?”
“Radiation exposure. Vacuum malnutrition. Or he might explode from internal air pressure.”
“Be realistic. How can you shoot a naked man into space? Tie him to the nose of a rocket vehicle?”
“Then put him in a capsule and shoot him into the sun. That would ionize the package into a fizz.”
“And how would we put him together again?”
“What?”
“That’s the point. We can’t lose him.”
“Then why the talk about killing him?”
“To bring us face to face with the problem. How do we kill the switchboard without killing Guess? That’s where I was headed, Nat.”
“I apologize, Guig.”
“It is a puzzle.”
“Almost a paradox. How do you kill a man without killing him?”
“What about a time-shoot back six months so I can abort this damned crisis before it started?”
“It won’t work.”
“Why not, Herb?”
“You’ll be a ghost.”
“There ain’t no such thing.”
“I’ve tried it. I can’t shoot a man into his own lifetime. The cosmos won’t tolerate two identicals. One of them has to be a phantasma.”
“Which?”
“The second.”
“So possession is nine points of space-time, and we’re back where we started. How do we abort the contact-catalyst without harming Guess?”
“You’re not on target, Guig.”
“N? W?”
“It isn’t a question of killing the switchboard. Kill the computer.”
“S! P! C! So obvious that it never occurred to me.”
“You’re too close to it. That’s why you needed us.”
“I’ll deal some demurrers. The Guess-Extro symbiosis is unique. It should be explored.”
“Too dangerous to delay. The situation is critical. Gottenu! I can feel the hot breath of the Rajah breathing down my neck.”
“If the symbiosis is destroyed, a similar one may never occur again.”
The Computer Connection Page 19