The Syndic
Page 22
XXII
"I didn't like his reaction," Charles told her in the anteroom of F. W.Taylor's office. "I didn't talk to him long on the phone, but I don'tlike his reaction at all. He seemed to think I was exaggerating. Or allwet. Or a punk kid."
"I can assure him you're not that," Lee Falcaro said warmly. "Call on meany time."
He gave her a worried smile. The door opened then and they went in.
Uncle Frank looked up. "We'd just about written you two off," he said."What's it like?"
"Bad," Charles said. "Worse than anything you've imagined. There's anunderground, all right, and they are practicing assassination."
"Too bad," the old man said. "We'll have to shake up the bodyguardorganization. Make 'em de rigeur at all hours, screen 'em and see thatthey really know how to shoot. I hate to meddle, but we can't have theGovernment knocking our people off."
"It's worse than that," Lee said. "There's a tie-up between theGovernment and the Mob. We got away from Ireland aboard a speed boat andwe were picked up by a Mob lakes ore ship. It had been running gasolineand ammunition to the Government. Jimmy Regan was in charge of the deal.We jumped into Lake Michigan and made our way back here. We were in MobTerritory--down among the small-timers--long enough to establish thatthe Mob and Government are hand in glove. One of these day's they'regoing to jump us."
"Ah," Taylor said softly. "I've thought so for a long time."
Charles burst out: "Then for God's sake, Uncle Frank, why haven't you_done_ anything? You don't know what it's like out there. TheGovernment's a nightmare. They have slaves. And the Mob's not muchbetter. Numbers! Restrictions! Permits! Passes! And they don't call itthat, but they have taxes!"
"They're mad," Lee said. "Quite mad. And I'm talking technically.Neurotics and psychotics swarm in the streets of Mob Territory. TheGovernment, naturally--but the Mob was a shock. We've got to get ready,Mr. Taylor. Every psychotic or severe neurotic in Syndic Territory is apotential agent of theirs."
"Don't just check off the Government, darling," Charles said tensely."They've got to be smashed. They're no good to themselves or anybodyelse. Life's a burden there if only they knew it. And they're holdingdown the natives by horrible cruelty."
Taylor leaned back and asked: "What do you recommend?"
Charles said: "A fighting fleet and an army."
Lee said: "Mass diagnosis of the unstable. Screening of severe cases andtreatment where it's indicated. Riveredge must be a plague-spot ofagents."
Taylor shook his head and told them: "It won't do."
Charles was aghast. "It won't _do_? Uncle Frank, what the hell do youmean, it won't do? Didn't we make it clear? They want to invade us andloot us and subject us!"
"It won't do," Taylor said. "I choose the devil we know. A fightingfleet is out. We'll arm our merchant vessels and hope for the best. Afull-time army is out. We'll get together some-kind of militia. And aroundup of the unstable is out."
"Why?" Lee demanded. "My people have worked out perfectly effectivetechniques--"
"Let me talk, please. I have a feeling that it won't be any good, buthear me out.
"I'll take your black art first, Lee. As you know, I have played withhistory. To a historian, your work has been very interesting. Thesequence was this: study of abnormal psychology collapsed underLieberman's findings, study of abnormal psychology revived by you whenyou invalidated Lieberman's findings. I suggest that Lieberman and hisfollowers were correct--and that you were correct. I suggest that whatchanged was the makeup of the population. That would mean that beforeLieberman there were plenty of neurotics and psychotics to study, thatin Lieberman's time there were so few that earlier generalizations wereinvalidated, and that now--in our time, Lee--neurotics and psychoticsare among us again in increasingly ample numbers."
The girl opened her mouth, shut it again and thoughtfully studied hernails.
"I will not tolerate," Taylor went on, "a roundup or a registration, ormass treatment or any such violation of the Syndic's spirit."
Charles exploded: "Damn it, this is a matter of life or death to theSyndic!"
"No, Charles. Nothing can be a matter of life or death to the Syndic.When anything becomes a matter of life or death to the Syndic, theSyndic is already dead, its morale, is already disintegrated, its creditalready gone. What is left is not the Syndic but the Syndic's deadshell. I am not placed so that I can say objectively now whether theSyndic is dead or alive. I fear it is dying. The rising tide ofneurotics is a symptom. The suggestion from you two, who should beimbued with the old happy-go-lucky, we-can't-miss esprit of the Syndicthat we cower behind mercenaries instead of trusting the people who madeus--that's another symptom. Dick Reiner's rise to influence on a policyof driving the Government from the seas is another symptom.
"I mentioned the devil we know as my choice. That's the status quo, eventhough I have reason to fear it's crumbling beneath our feet. If it is,it may last out our time. We'll shore it up with armed merchantmen and amilitia. If the people are with us now as they always have been, that'lldo it. The devil we don't know is what we'll become if we radicallydislocate Syndic life and attitudes.
"I can't back a fighting fleet. I can't back a regular army. I can'tback any restrictive measure on the freedom of anybody but anapprehended criminal. Read history. It has taught me not to meddle, ithas taught me that no man should think himself clever enough or goodenough to dare it. _That_ is the lesson history teaches us.
"Who can know what he's doing when he doesn't even know why he does it?Bless the bright Cromagnon for inventing the bow and damn him forinventing missile warfare. Bless the stubby little Sumerians formiracles in gold and lapis lazuli and damn them for burying a deadqueen's hand-maidens living in her tomb. Bless Shih Hwang-Ti forbuilding the Great Wall between northern barbarism and southern culture,and damn him for burning every book in China. Bless King Minos for theease of Cnossian flush toilets and damn him for his yearly tribute ofGreek sacrificial victims. Bless Pharaoh for peace and damn him forslavery. Bless the Greeks for restricting population so the well-fed fewcould kindle a watch-tower in the west, and damn the prostitution andsodomy and wars of colonization by which they did it. Bless the Romansfor their strength to smash down every wall that hemmed their buildinggenius, and damn them for their weakness that never broke the bloodygrip of Etruscan savagery on their minds. Bless the Jews who discoveredthe fatherhood of God and damn them who limited it to the survivors of asurgical operation. Bless the Christians who abolished the surgicalpreliminaries and damn them who substituted a thousand cerebralquibbles. Bless Justinian for the Code of Law and damn him for hiscountless treacheries that were the prototype of the wretched Byzantinemillenium. Bless the churchmen for teaching and preaching, and damn,them for drawing a line beyond which they could only teach and preach inperil of the stake.
"Bless the navigators who, opened the new world to famine-ridden Europe,and damn them for syphillis. Bless the red-skins who bred maize, thegreat preserver of life and damn them for breeding maize the greatdestroyer of topsoil. Bless the Virginia planters for the solace oftobacco and damn them for the red gullies they left where forests hadstood. Bless the obstetricians with forceps who eased the agony of laborand damn them for bringing countless monsters into the world toreproduce their kind. Bless the Point Four boys who slew the malariamosquitoes of Ceylon and damn them for letting more Sinhalese be bornthen five Ceylons could feed.
"Who knows what he is doing, why he does it or what the consequenceswill be?
"Let the social scientists play with their theories if they like; I'mfond of poetry myself. The fact is that they have not so far solved whatI call the two-billion-body problem. With brilliant hindsight some ofthem tell us that more than a dozen civilizations have gone down intothe darkness before us. I see no reason why ours should not go down intothe darkness with them, nor do I see any reason why we should notmeanwhile enjoy ourselves collecting sense-impressions to be rememberedwith pleasure in old age. No; I will not agitate for extermination
ofthe Government and hegemony over the Mob. Such a policy wouldautomatically, inevitably and immediately entail many, many violentdeaths and painful wounds. The wrong kind of sense-impressions. I shall,with fear and trembling, recommend the raising of a militia--a purelydefensive, extremely sloppy militia--and pray that it will not Involveus in a war of aggression."
He looked at the two of them and shrugged. "Lee, so stern, Charles sogrim," he said. "I suppose you're dedicated now." He looked at the desk.
He thought: _I have a faint desire to take the pistol from my desk andshoot you both. I have a nervous feeling that you're about to embark ona crusade to awaken Syndic Territory to its perils. You think the fateof civilization hinges on you. You're right, of course. The fate ofcivilization hinges on every one of us at any given moment. We are allcomponents in the two-billion-body problem. Somehow for a century we'veachieved in Syndic Territory for almost everybody the civil liberties,peace of mind and living standards that were enjoyed by the middleclasses before 1914--plus longer life, better health, a more generousmorality, increased command over nature; minus the servant problem andcertain superstitions. A handful of wonderfully pleasant decades. Whenyou look back over history you wonder who in his right mind could askfor more. And you wonder who would dare to presume to tamper with it._
He studied the earnest young faces. There was so much that he mightsay--but he shrugged again.
"Bless you," he said. "Gather ye sense impression while ye may. Somelike pointer readings, some like friction on the mucous membranes. Nowgo about your business; I have work to do."
He didn't really. When he was alone he leaned back and laughed andlaughed.
Win, lose or draw, those two would go far and enjoy themselves mightilyalong the way. Which was what counted.
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[Transcriber's Note: No Chapter II header in original. All pagespresent.]