“I already am, I think,” Jack said. “But it’s from th< mob, not Northampton. I went to Lewis because I need all the help 1 can get.”
“Look, your average person might just pass Lewis off as being nosey, but anybody who’s had any experience with the resistance will be suspicious. I really don’t think you should trust Lewis with your confidence.”
“I’ve known Lewis for two years now, Annette. He’s never given me any cause to doubt or suspect him.” “Of course not. I’ve known him far longer than you have, and I dare say quite a bit better. He’s a nice guy, I like
him a lot, but he’s not safe. Sure, he’s sympathetic to Earth’s cause, and he’s been branded as a traitor, but he was convicted by association. I don’t think he would deliberately give anything away, but he might let something slip, in all innocence, that you would rather he didn’t. And even if he doesn’t get you in trouble, he could hurt himself, especially when he goes back to visit friends in Northampton.” "Does he go back often?”
“Even once could be too much. Down here, a Natural can pretty much do and talk as she wants. Up there, we Visitors are still very much an occupying force. One wrong word, and he could be arrested—and executed.”
“I guess 1 was too worried about my own concerns to fully realize the jeopardy I was putting him in. But how can he dare to go to Northampton at all?”
“Secretly, of course, just as some Visitors come here secretly to visit family or friends. In a way it’s easier for him, he just puts on his uniform and unless somebody actually checks his credentials, they assume he’s a part of the system. Those who come down here give themselves away any time they open their mouths. Keep him out of this, Dr. Page. For your sake, and for his.”
“1 see your point. I hope I haven’t already done him harm.”
“1 don’t think you have. But he was the wrong person to go to in the first place. If you want information, you need to talk to someone who might have that information, or access to it—like me.”
“I’d appreciate it, Annette, but look, 1 don’t know you, why should you want to help me?”
“Because I am active in the fifth column. If your problem concerns Visitor actions that might jeopardize our activities, the Naturals, or the continued well-being of all Visitors on Earth, I want to know about it.”
Jack finished his beer and sat looking speculatively at Annette for a long moment. She could be leading him on, he thought, a counter-resistance activist, fully naturalized but in full sympathy with the Occupation. But she already knew enough about him to know that he was the only person working on Emily’s case. There was nothing he could tell her about anti-Visitor activities. If she just wanted to shut him up, she could have done so easily long before now.
“All right, Annette, I guess I’ll have to trust you—a little. Can you tell me anything about a possible connection between Vincent Kline, Charles Anthony Oswald, and Dwight?”
“Boy, you ask good ones. I know who Kline and Oswald are, but I’ve never heard anything about their being involved with each other. As for Dwight, I know that about six months ago, Dwight hired someone from Freeport to help him install a small TV station up in Northampton somewhere, but how that ties in with Oswald and Kline I can’t say.”
“Vanessa Carpentier,” Jack said, “president of WCTY.” “Yes. He went right to the top. The Office of Human-Visitor relations had been trying to get permission to build a studio in Freeport, God knows why, and as second in charge of that office, he was probably involved with that, too.” “I heard about that,” Jack said. “I can’t figure out why they thought we would give them permission. Further north, maybe, where the balance of power is more equal, but not down here.”
“We can’t figure that out either. Northampton is one of the most strongly held cities in this part of the country, Freeport completely human controlled, but you don’t see a lot of fighting or sabotage, although there is some spying going on. It seems like the two cities are holding each other at arm’s length.
“But it’s not true. Under the surface, there’s a lot of tension, partly because we do have a lot of us Naturals here. That causes considerable hard feeling on the part of us Visitors, on both sides of the bay. And then, the humans of Northampton have Freeport as a constant reminder of the freedoms they’ve lost. It’s surprising there haven’t been more rebellions up there.”
“And Naturals down here,” Jack said, “are far less than second class citizens. You must sometimes regret the freedom and power that you’ve had to give up.”
“In order to keep living, but yes, we could have been part of the ruling class if we had not sympathized with humans. Things seem to be getting better for us down here. 1 haven’t been called a lizard in weeks. But it’s a bad situation all around, and it could explode at any minute. What we’re afraid of is that this thing that you’re investigating could spark the fuse. If Dwight is involved in any subversive activity, then there could be real trouble, for all of us.” “I can see that now. If we find out anything solid, I know some people who could put that knowledge to good use, maybe clean things up enough so there won’t be an ‘explosion.’ But that’s really just a part of the background. What I’m really concerned about is Emily Velasquez.” “Just who is Emily Velasquez?”
“She’s a client of mine,” Jack said, and told her about the phone call, the man in the empty apartment, the attempted mugging, the photos—and his own personal interest.
Annette was sympathetic. “It sounds bad,” she said. “I agree with Emily, there’s some kind of conspiracy going on. And whatever it is, there’s a lot more to worry about than just Emily’s safety. You see that, don’t you?”
“Yes. For one thing, I’m pretty sure the mob has got a real hold on city government, and I suspect the police are actively cooperating with the mob.”
“There’s more to it than that. I’m a resident of Freeport, but I’m also active in the fifth column in Northampton, and in contact with the resistance there as well. We’ve been hearing some unsettling rumors lately. They imply some kind of anti-human plot, some kind of move against Freeport. It seems to me that this business with Emily could be a part of that plot, and it is this that we want to find out more about. What you told me just now, especially about Dwight, makes me more interested than ever. Whatever is going on, we want to stop it. We—and other fifth columnists all across the country—want to bring peace between our two peoples. We’re unwelcome guests, I know, but as far as I’m concerned, there’s far more to be gained, for both sides, by cooperation, than by either of us just killing off the other.”
“Admirable sentiments, I’m sure. But my primary concern is still Emily’s welfare. If I can get certain people enough information so that they can clean up Freeport, or even ease tensions between Freeport and Northampton, that’s fine. But first I want to find Emily, if she’s still alive.” “But don’t you see? You’re not going to be able to do that unless you become more involved in the larger picture. Her kidnapping was not just an isolated event. Those photos prove that Emily stumbled onto something big. And that something, I’m sure, is this anti-human, anti-Freeport conspiracy. That’s why she’s been kidnapped, not just to protect Kline, or Oswald.”
“That may be true,” Jack said, “but I know that Kline is behind the people who kidnapped Emily. It’s the mob that I want to find out more about. I can’t see how or why they would be involved in this conspiracy of yours.”
“That’s got me curious too,” Annette admited. “The occupation administration in Northampton generally avoids collusion with any human organization, legal or illegal. They just don’t trust humans. Too many sympathizers have changed their minds at the last minute, or otherwise proved untrustworthy. And if there were collusion, one would think it would be with Freeport’s government, not with so unreliable an organization as the mob. But if there is a connection, however obscure or tenuous, then it’s very likely that Northampton, not the mob, has Emily right now.”
�
�I don’t see why.”
“If the mob just wanted Emily dead, all right. But if they kidnapped her, it’s because they think she knows something, and they want to find out what. Criminals are crude, but our interrogation technology is highly effective. More than that, after they’ve wrung Emily of all she knows, they can put her back in Freeport, a convertee, instead of just sinking her in the bay.”
“Oh my God,” Jack said. “Here I was worried about what the mob might be doing to Emily’s body, I never even thought about what the Visitors might be doing to her mind.”
“It can be just as unpleasant as any physical torture, if that’s what the interrogator wants.”
“Damn. What made me think I could possibly be of any help?” He stared at his black-gloved left hand, clenching and unclenching the mechanical thumb. “All right, I’m not going to give up now. Let’s assume that Northampton does in fact have Emily. What will they do to her?”
“Well, interrogate her, of course. We have all kinds of techniques depending on the situation, the urgency, and the personality of the person.”
“They’re going to have a real trick this time, though,” Jack said. “Emily is schizophrenic, she has difficulty distinguishing between fantasy and reality. She could tell them what she truly believes to be the truth, though it’s all a figment of her imagination. And under stress, that distinction between reality and fantasy becomes more blurred. Whatever she tells them, it’s bound to contain a lot of delusion.”
“That’s as may be,” Annette said, “but if she can’t tell reality and fantasy apart, then they won’t be able to either.” “Unless she tells two contradictory versions of the same story, which she’s almost certain to do. And they won’t be able to tell which is the truth, and which she made up.” “That might actually work in our favor. If they realize they can’t trust anything she tells them, they might give up on her, and more important not act on anything they learn. But then, when they’re through with her, they’ll probably send her to an internment camp somewhere. And then, my friend, she’ll be out of your reach forever. I’m sorry.” “People have been broken out of prison camps before.” “I know, by highly motivated groups of people led by experienced rebels. Not by just one man. Now look, you’ve got a choice. Right now, if you just give up, you’ll probably be left alone, they don’t know enough about you to pursue you further. But if you’re serious about trying to do something for Emily, and if you’re willing to help me and my people look into this conspiracy, then we’ll help you in return.”
“I’m willing,” Jack said. “When do we start?”
“Not right now. I know who you are, but we’re going to have to investigate you further. The resistance movement is going to have to be sure that you can be trusted.”
“Do whatever you have to do. But what do I do next?” “Nothing, right now. But meet me again tonight, nine o’clock, at forty seven North Pine. That’s an apartment building. I’ll introduce you to people there.” And then with a quick, grim smile, she slid out of the booth and left.
File Twelve: Wednesday Evening
The apartment building was toward the west end of the industrial section of town, on the comer of Pine and Vann, a very short block from the bay. Mostly blue-collar workers lived here with their families. It was not a preposessing place, with a potholed parking lot beside it. Annette was not in the rather seedy lobby.
He went to the mailboxes to try to find her name. As he was scanning the rows of dented metal doors, a short young woman with short dark hair came up to him, dressed a bit too fashionably in lime green slacks and blouse. She didn’t look like a prostitute, but Jack couldn’t be sure.
“Are you Dr. Page?” she asked.
“I am.”
“I’m Sally Greenstreet. Annette couldn’t make it and sent me to get you. Shall we go?”
“Aren’t we meeting here?”
“This is just a drop, in case you were followed. Do you have a car?”
“Outside.”
As they went to his car she apologized for the runaround. “We have to be very careful,” she explained. “The man you’re going to meet tonight is the leader of Freeport’s resistance group.”
“I understand,” Jack said.
Sally directed him to drive west on Vann until it joined with Bay Shore. A half a block later, at the edge of town, they turned left onto Sanders, a lower middle class neighborhood with prominently displayed neighborhood crime-watch signs. They turned into a driveway after only half a block, number 150, beside a small, ranch-style house, perfectly typical of the neighborhood. There was another car parked ahead of them. There were lights in the front windows of the house.
Sally let him in the front door. It was just a regular family home, as far as Jack could tell. He had been expecting it to look like some kind of rebel stronghold. From the tiny foyer they went into the living room, where a short, chunky, middle-aged man with dark Latinate features was standing, waiting for them.
“Dr. Page,” Sally said, “this is Douglas Abbot, our leader.”
“Good to meet you, Jack,” Abbot said, coming forward to shake his hand. “I’m sorry to hear about your friend’s trouble. I’m hoping we can work together.”
“I am too,” Jack said, wondering how such a bland looking man could possibly be effective in the resistance movement. “Will Annette be here?” he asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Abbot said. “But she told me all about her conversation with you this afternoon, and we’ve checked you out as thoroughly as we could on such short notice. We’re ready to work with you if you still want to work with us.”
“I am more than just ready,” Jack said. “What do we do first?”
“Have a drink. ” He went over to an Oriental cabinet that served as a bar. “Single malt scotch, I believe,” he said over his shoulder as he took out bottles and glasses. “Will Glenlivit do?”
“That will be fine.”
“Annette told me that you had some photos.” “They’re in my office, locked in my desk.” He accepted the scotch on the rocks and took a sip. “But I can tell you exactly what’s in them,” he went on, and proceded to do so.
“The implications are fascinating,” Abbot said when Jack finished. “We’ve been talking about them ever since Annette reported in. It’s fairly obvious to us that there is a lot more to the story than meets the eye. Kline bribing Oswald, Oswald bribing Kline, either or both bribing Dwight, Dwight blackmailing them, who knows. If any two of them had met in secret like that, I wouldn’t think more about it. But all three together makes it far more complicated. What were they really there for? And can that meeting have had anything to do with the conspiracy Annette told you about? I think it did, though I can’t tell you why, yet.”
“What about Emily?” Jack asked. “Have you heard anything about her?”
“No, I’m sorry to say 1 haven’t. But we’ve got lots of ears open, and we’re going to find out something, don’t you worry about that.”
“I do worry. Emily is not a mentally stable person, this experience could destroy her, even if she hasn’t been hurt physically.”
“So I understand. Look, Jack, you have my sympathy, but you’ve put the case into good hands, now, the best possible hands. I admit that my concern is primarily for this conspiracy deal, but there should be no conflict between us.
I want to get Emily back too. She’s a victim, and victims can’t help but learn a lot about the people who victimize them. Even if the Visitors don’t actually tell her anything, we can learn a lot from the kinds of questions they’ve asked her. That’s why she’s important to us.”
“I’m glad to hear that. But don’t give up on the establishment too quickly. Do you know David Mallard? I’ve told him about this, and he’d be willing to work with us, if we can get him the information he needs.” “Mallard’s a good man. Is he being watched?”
“I think so. The last time I talked with him, he wouldn’t even let me mention Emily.”
“A
tricky situation, we’ll look into it and see if we can’t take the pressure off him a bit. Having the assistant attorney on our side could be a big help to us later. We know he’s clean.”
“I’m sure of that, but how can you be? Mallard thinks Oswald is clean.”
“It’s not the same thing. Oswald has done nothing to indicate any involvement with either the mob or Northampton, but there’s a lot about him we don’t know. Mallard, on the other hand, has never tried to keep a secret, doesn’t erect barriers around himself. We’re sure about him.”
“That’s a relief. But—I’m sorry to keep bringing this up—what about Emily? What are we going to do?” “Ultimately, we’re going to spring her. But first we have to find out a lot more about her whereabouts, and then we’ll
have to plan our action. Jack, I’ve put the whole network on this, because it seems to me that this might be just the break we’ve been waiting for. We’ve been putting things together, things that at first don’t seem to bear any relationship to each other, and we’re coming up with some interesting possibilities. It’s been frustrating the last month or so, because my people here in Freeport seem to be losing their dedication. But two or three little bits of information may— just may—be a lead as to what happened to your friend. May 1 fix you another drink?”
“Please,” Jack said, handing him the empty glass.
“Doug’s right,” Sally said. She had been sitting on the couch quietly the whole time. “We’ve known for a long time now that the Northampton Visitors have an espionage network in Freeport. We haven’t been able to do anything about it yet. But kidnapping Emily might just prove their downfall.” She paused while Jack accepted the fresh drink Abbot handed him.
“Because, you see,” she went on, “a part of that network seems to be a secret prison camp, not that far from Freeport. We don’t know what they do there, but little hints trickle out every now and then. But if the Visitors have Emily, then it’s almost certain that they have her at that camp. Our problem is that we never had any idea of who they might have taken there, no way to track them down. They sneak people out of life for a moment, then sneak them back. All we know is that every now and then somebody shows up converted. But Emily was grabbed right out in the open. The mob is the weak link there. We’re hoping it will break for us.”
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